Midea, one of China’s largest appliance manufacturers, wanted to identify growth opportunities in the domestic consumer market, while focusing on people’s cultural beliefs around health and well-being. During the course of the project, IDEO found that Midea could play a key role in building a healthier nation.

The team set out to design potential future products for Tong (“through, whole, and to understand”) that are built around the basic themes of eating, breathing, and being: an easy-to-use, hassle-free herbal tea dispenser, an air balancer that improves and balances the quality of air in the home, and a body-balancing mobile phone app that encourages users to rebalance their body condition where needed, through movements created with the Chinese philosophies of well-being in mind.

The Tong project was featured extensively in the press, and opened further conversations with Midea about creating new value and extending into new markets.

Put food on the table or keep the furnace running on a frigid day? It’s an unfortunate choice many low-income families in Flint, Michigan, face.

To help customers in Flint and other Michigan towns stay on top of their utility bills and better understand the relationship between their energy consumption and the resulting costs, Consumers Energy partnered with IDEO and utility assistance provider The Heat and Warmth Fund (THAW) to create an innovative pilot billing program called Clear Control in late 2013.

The pilot was designed with three major human-centered changes to the traditional utility experience:

• Instead of monthly bills, participants received two bills per month. Shorter billing periods allowed for smaller, more frequent payments, helping customers match available funds with their ability to pay.
• Daily text updates on energy usage and bill amounts kept consumption top of mind.
• Consumers Energy offered personalized, in-home audits to help customers make low-cost, high-impact changes to their energy bills.

A year later, the results of the pilot are energizing. Clear Control participants accumulated no new debt, while the control group owed $300; pilot customers used 20 percent less electricity, reducing their bills by $200 per year; and 95 percent of participants paid their bills in full and on time, compared with 35 percent in the control group. The utility company simultaneously benefited by avoiding arrearages, late-payment fees, and shutoffs. Consumers plans to incorporate Clear Control lessons into its overall energy assistance program design and development moving forward.

"It’s no longer ‘me’ against ‘them’—now it’s ‘us,’" said one Clear Control participant.

In 1980, Apple asked IDEO to develop a mouse for their radical new computer, the Lisa. Previous attempts at mouse design, by Douglas Englebart and Xerox PARC, yielded results that were too expensive and hard to make. The Apple mouse needed to be more reliable and less than 10 percent of the cost of the earlier versions.

To start, the design team created a cheaper, much-improved mechanism that would operate the mouse, and found that a complex, plastic "ribcage" would hold the pieces together. The team similarly tested and refined the mouse’s other key components, from the audible and tactile click of the button to the rubberized coating on the ball. A record turntable spun for days, logging “mouse miles” to check the reliability of the electromechanical assembly.

The resulting mouse proved mechanically and economically sound and was changed only slightly when adapted for use with the first Macintosh computer. The basic mechanism design is used in virtually all mechanical mouses produced to date.

Food is the heart of most cultures. In China, one of the oldest cultures in the world, food is central to family gatherings and celebrations. It’s what binds people, a tangible way of showing love and respect. But in recent years, the Chinese food industry has suffered from concerns around safety.

Two siblings, Harn and Anmao Sun, set out on an ambitious venture: to create a trusted source of food in China and, by setting an example, to instigate a movement around conscious farming practices. The American-born entrepreneurs launched Hunter Gatherer, a restaurant and retail food space built around a transparent supply chain, from farm to table to grocery shelves. The venture is based on growing and serving what they call real food: The ingredients are chemical-free and come from known and trusted sources—food they’d eat themselves. The purpose of the venture is simple: to serve people real food that is their right.

Having studied and worked in the US, Harn and Anmao grew accustomed to browsing farmers markets on Saturday mornings or picking up a burrito at Chipotle. But when they returned to China, they were unsure about the safety of the food they were eating.

“In China, you wouldn’t go to a food stand, because you’d be concerned about the ingredients,” Anmao said. “You can’t take the safety for granted.”

Hunter Gatherer’s very existence challenges bedrock assumptions about how food is produced in China. A long and depressing list of scandals—milk contaminated with melamine, pork produced from diseased pigs, used cooking oil repackaged and sold as new—has rocked the public trust.

“In China, agriculture is going through a huge change,” Anmao said. “In the US, agriculture operations are regulated. Farmers’ practices are regulated. If they use pesticides, there are limits because these farmers understand that once a certain threshold is hit, additional pesticides will not yield more crops. But in China, pesticide use came about 30 years after the US and Europe, and because of a lack of full understanding, farmers in China incorrectly operate under the assumption that more pesticides means more crop yields. Also, with over 250 million farmers in China, it becomes immensely difficult to properly regulate everyone.”

New Ventures

Harn and Anmao wanted to restore trust in the simple act of eating in China, and they came to IDEO to build a scalable business based on that vision. This was essentially a startup, a shared commitment between IDEO and Hunter Gatherer.

“I’ve lived in Shanghai for the past seven years, and as a relatively active and health-conscious person, I’ve had to invest quite a bit of time in finding food that I trust,” said Charles Hayes, managing director of IDEO Shanghai. “That investment has been both in the time it takes to research the sources of ingredients but also a literal investment in paying a high price for imported food just for that extra peace of mind.”

Anmao and Harn took up residence in the IDEO Shanghai offices to incubate their business. Together with IDEO designers, they tested packaging, cooked countless meals, and found ways to introduce unfamiliar ingredients to Chinese consumers. They discussed different concepts of lunch and dinner, and how notions of freshness in Chinese culture might affect cold-storage systems. In IDEO’s prototyping kitchen, the teams tested all manner of different foods, flavors, colors, mixes, and price points, and they brought consumers in to try them out. IDEO designers, along with the founding team, also worked on the brand and positioning of what would eventually become the Hunter Gatherer enterprise—its location, human resources, and marketing strategies.

As the restaurant concept came together, finding the right food sources had to be addressed. Traditional agriculture couldn’t be trusted; organic certifications were available on the black market, and safety protocols around chemical use were nonexistent. Anmao and Harn decided to invest in their own farms. They met with farmers, asked questions about their methods, and walked in the fields to see for themselves. Eventually they settled on two plots of land outside Shanghai and began developing more than 80 different crops to be used in the restaurant.

From Seed to Table

When it came time to find the right space for the first location, Anmao and Harn discovered an open, airy storefront on Anfu Road in Shanghai’s tree-lined former French Concession area. They designed and built a retail space and kitchen, and along with IDEO designers, they trained the staff and organized workflows. The staff set the tables with Mason jars filled with flowers, hung photographs of the farmers who grew the food, and put up a sign that showcases the percentage of vegetables coming directly from the Hunter Gatherer farms, already more than 70 percent in less than a year after opening.

Customers can shop for fresh vegetables, locally sourced and imported canned and jarred goods, bins of cereal, freshly made smoothies, artisan sauces, and exotic chocolates. Upstairs, they can feast on delicious dishes in the homey restaurant.

Reviews have been glowing. One customer raved about the machine that grinds fresh nuts. Another loved the open space, the “good vibes,” and the refreshing cucumber water. Young people go there on dates, and families return for the delicious menu variety.

The convivial space has blossomed into more than just a restaurant and grocery store. It’s become a gathering place of sorts, both for the community and for partners who share the same vision. Farmers and food purveyors are invited to showcase their products at seasonal events and to mingle with customers and share recipes and stories.

“Hunter Gatherer has come to symbolize a kind of lifestyle the Chinese people have been looking for,” said Eugene Lin, an IDEO business designer. “A place they can enjoy hanging out with friends, as well as a movement and mission they can stand behind.”

A Digital Future

This is just the beginning of the venture. The plan is to open 40 more locations throughout China. But the vision for Hunter Gatherer’s growth is bigger than brick-and-mortar restaurants—where the business will truly scale is in the digital space. Eventually, the plan is to launch a Hunter Gatherer online grocery store from which anyone can buy food grown from trusted sources.

“We have to create trust with the consumer. It’s the most difficult and most valuable thing to do in China, especially with food,” Anmao said. “Our brick-and-mortar locations will establish that increased trust. Then we can go online and grow the idea to the rest of the country.”

Will Hunter Gatherer have a hand in changing the way that the world’s most populous nation thinks about food? Its principles are already spreading, from neighboring farmers adopting more sustainable planting methods, to a growing market for products like wine.

But the true sign of success will be almost invisible—the moment when an increase in demand will result in safe food for everyone and when real food becomes commonplace.

Her dream was to scale RepresentEd, an organization she started to support non-traditional students in securing opportunities for meaningful work. She was prototyping her idea at the University of California Berkeley with a unique cohort of students. A few had transferred to the university and some were raising children or supporting siblings, she said. A few were formerly incarcerated. My father went to prison, and I saw how difficult it was to re-enter society when his sentence was up, so I was immediately taken with her idea. We exchanged contact information, danced a bit more, and then said our goodbyes.

A few weeks after our Lyft ride, Rashida and I met to talk about a program she was designing for RepresentEd. She wanted students to learn human-centered design because it’s a skill that employers look for in the San Francisco Bay Area. I told her about Anne-Laure Fayard, a professor at New York University who is teaching human-centered design by having her students participate in OpenIDEO Challenges, 4-month global efforts that allow people to act on societal challenges together. The theory is that they’ll learn more by participating in the design process than they will from hearing a lecture.

The timing of my meeting with Rashida was perfect—my team was about to launch an OpenIDEO Challenge in which we asked, “How might we prepare all learners for the needs of tomorrow by reimagining higher education?” Rashida brought this idea back to her students, who were excited to work on a topic that was so relevant to their lives.

A few weeks later, I traveled to the UC Berkeley campus to meet the students in Rashida’s program for the first time. Rashida asked me to lead a workshop on human-centered design and introduce them to the Future of Higher Education Challenge. The students were fired up, smart, creative, and eager to work with one another.

One of the ideas that came out of that workshop was MAPP, an interactive roadmap that supports students through college and beyond. The students spent the next few weeks building the idea out. They conducted interviews with other students, parents, teachers, and staff. They worked with Mike Atherton, a local interaction designer and OpenIDEO community member who volunteered to build prototypes that they tested with non-traditional students, faculty, and experts in the field. The students submitted MAPP to OpenIDEO and it was selected as one of the five most promising ideas to come from the Future of Higher Ed Challenge. Two of the students were flown to Boston to present MAPP at a leadership summit. They also pitched MAPP at education conferences hosted by our partners Georgia Tech and Arizona State University.

All of this innovation sprang from a Lyft ride many months ago. It’s a great reminder that when you’re open and implicitly trust others, you can build bridges and expand the reach of your work in the world.

“Opportunities are everywhere, if you’re always open,” Rashida told me. It’s the same thing she tells her students.

I was on my way to a conference in San Rafael, California. I don't have a car, so I called Lyft. I met Rashida on the ride over; she was my driver, and we instantly connected while rocking out to Missy Elliot. When the song ended, we started to chat. As a former journalist, I’ve always been curious about what motivates people, so I asked her, “What are your hopes for the future?”

When we get an auto-responder, the feeling is generally one of mild disappointment, indifference, or doom, depending on how urgent your request was.

If I took the time to compose something better, I wondered, would anyone take the time to read it? Was there a way—an opportunity, even—to shift the entire auto-responder interaction from one of scarcity (nobody’s home) to abundance (well that just made my day)?

The question became:

"How might we take one of the most automated voices we still offer to the world and make it more human?"

I started to experiment:

"I will be in a workshop this week rendering response time erratic and unpredictable. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and invite you to celebrate this moment by testing the varied edges and new limits of patience this may evoke. Who knows where it may lead? I will be back to you as soon as possible. I promise. Thank you!"

Then got a little bolder:

"I will be impossibly slow to respond today as I am currently seated deep within the bowels of our criminal justice system doing my bit as potential juror #xxxxx for Kings County. I urge patience and self management, and that's just for myself.... I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Today you will most likely receive:

"I am abroad with the most inconsistent wifi I have ever experienced. It's the substantiation of mindfulness, the invitation to a million moments paused in the belligerent now. I will pick up with you again on July 10th when I am back in New York where the data flows like a subterranean stream and the hours are neither here nor there. Thank you for your patience in the meantime."

People responded. They read them. They liked them! And the fact that they got a momentary zing out of these absurdist missives did much to relieve my guilt over dodging people's requests. I also learned a few things along the way.

3 design principles for how to write a better OOO:

1. Insert an element of surprise
   Moments of surprise in the mundane matter exponentially. I have received many many bemused responses. From close colleagues to clients to absolute strangers. It instantaneously bonds us and shifts the exchange from “I have a request or need” to “I see and hear you.” When I eventually return and execute on that request, there are new connections, filamenty kinship has grown between us through humor and surprise. From that foundation we accomplish more, usually with speed, which is ironic when you think that the communication started with a stunting. Not particularly auspicious. This creates space for possibility.
2. Do not concede to the bot!
   Bots are helpful, available, and dare I say it, adorable at times. But to compete with them we must use our all too human, weird, silly, grammatically inconsistent voices. Besides, if they are learning from us anyway we may as well give them some good material to work with.
3. Upend expectations by being yourself
   I work in leading talent for IDEO. I'm proud of that craft. But I’m also an MFA, a poet, and you may be able to tell, a bit of a weirdo. The moment I gave myself permission to be myself in all of my communications with people—even the dryest most official ones—people started responding in kind. Free yourself and the rest will follow.

We all operate in a world where we bump up against other’s expectations or assumptions of who we are on a daily basis. Those assumptions don't change on their own—that's your job! And it's as easy as writing a good OOO email! I am not HR, I’m HCH. Hello.

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The dreaded OOO. You've probably already gotten one today. The tone is usually perfunctory, most likely generated by a bot, or a bot-like impulse on behalf of the sender, who is hastily trying to sign off before that vacation, workshop, excuse to get away for five minutes of uninterrupted peace.

I found this outside of a grocery shop in Tokyo. Someone used the plastic bottle to replace the broken rain gutter. You can tell from the scratches on the plastic that the water bottle has been there a while, outlasting countless rainstorms. Who knew a water bottle could be so strong!

Human-centered design requires us to observe human behavior with beginner's eyes, so that we can spot the innate ways people interact with the world around them. We call these intuitive and unconscious reactions Thoughtless Acts, and IDEO designers collect photos of them to inspire their work.

In 2016, with only a college internship in archaeology under my belt, I stumbled on a social media post calling for volunteers to dig in Jerusalem. Before I knew it, I was winging my way to Israel with knee pads, sweat bands, and plenty of SPF 50. I spent two to three weeks of each of the following summers in Jerusalem with Dig Mount Zion, helping excavate priestly homes from the time of Jesus, Roman mosaics and frescos, and hints of bloody Crusader battles.

I returned from my latest session in a dusty Jerusalem pit in July to start my new gig as an editor at IDEO. Believe it or not, being a part-time Dirt Hound has really helped my work. How?

1. Archaeology sparks curiosity

I knew nothing about design when I started at IDEO. Likewise, before college I knew zilch about archaeology beyond what I’d seen on TV. The aggressive learning curve kicked me out of my comfort zone and forced me to ask questions of everyone, all the time. What’s a sherd, or for that matter a fill, a balk, or a locus? How did people live in the time of King David or King Herod, and how do we know?

Constantly asking questions can make you feel a bit naive, but I’ve found this sort of curiosity is a great way to learn fast, shake up stagnant systems, and radically expand my view of what’s possible.

Designers know this well. They start with questions: How might we incorporate VR into online experiences? Why are schools bound by four walls? Could play help prisoners? This inquisitive, unbiased approach is what allows them to identify fundamental needs and find creative solutions.

In the same way, I try to broach new concepts I come across, such as designing for social change, with no preconceived ideas, and keep poking and prodding until I unearth the story.

2. Hard labor can be good for you

In pop culture, archaeologists find perfectly preserved, fully excavated structures (I’m looking at you, Indy). But in reality, someone has to remove tons of dirt and rock; sweep the area with a metal detector; sketch and photograph the features of the site; wash, sort, and catalogue finds—and then begin again the next day, on the next layer of earth. Slowly, a complete picture is revealed. It’s meticulous, backbreaking work.

At the Jerusalem dig site, the physical challenges and my lack of formal training helped me understand my limits and accept guidance from the seasoned archaeologists in charge. At the same time, the digs showed me that I’m capable of withstanding heat, stress, language barriers, and lots of pickaxing. These experiences have given me confidence that I can master a new language—design—and tackle stories about IDEO’s most complex, cross-cultural projects.

3. Digs build trust & teamwork

In a given year, Dig Mount Zion includes about 15 staff, 20 students, and 60 wide-eyed volunteers. Participants range from 18 to 86 and hail from Germany, Russia, the Philippines, Canada, New Zealand, and beyond. Being tossed into a pit in 95-degree heat and told to move a mountain of dirt has bonded complete strangers into fast friends.

Working in a place so steeped in history, alongside people from all walks of life—from an Ohio school bus driver to a Messianic Jewish missionary to a particle physicist—helped me build trust and tolerance and let me glean wisdom from people with radically different points of view.

Likewise, diversity of experience and perspective on a single project is IDEO's secret sauce. Our designers have created everything from apps to amps to appliances and I'm charged with capturing those inventions in a way that's easy to understand. Archaeology has prepared me well to incorporate new modes of thinking and work with colleagues from Silicon Valley to Shanghai.

Hopefully, they won’t mind all the dirt under my fingernails.

Photos courtesy of Rachel Ward. For more, please contact rwardphotoclt@gmail.com.

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When I was eight, I defected from a high-stakes game of summer camp capture-the-flag to hunt for fossils in a nearby creekbed. Twenty years later, I still obsess about all things ancient—the first civilizations, the evolution of religious thought, and the latest dinosaur find. If this is a phase, I never grew out of it. In fact, I’ve become something of an amateur archaeologist, with surprising benefits for my work life.

I help organizations cut through complexity by shaping how they show up, through brand strategy, identity, and storytelling.

Working at the intersection of brand and business, I bring an editorial eye and a bias toward making—turning ideas into tangible experiences that people can understand, trust, and believe in.

My work spans government, healthcare, financial services, media, and consumer goods, from launching Gen Z-focused ventures to building innovation labs and reimagining legacy brands. I relish moments of ambiguity and enjoy translating across teams, perspectives, and priorities to move ideas forward.

I started my career in editorial and digital design, shaping cross-platform experiences and identity systems in publishing and agency environments. That foundation still shapes how I work today: I’m detail-oriented, collaborative, and overreliant on the Oxford comma. I hold a BFA in Visual Communication from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

For 25 years, I've asked the same question: Who does this design exclude—and what are we going to do about it?

My work spans human-centered strategy, inclusive design, and qualitative research, with clients ranging from Microsoft, Google, and Verizon to the National Science Foundation, and San Francisco Unified School District.

Before IDEO, I taught elementary school in East Palo Alto and spent a decade doing design work with social service organizations—where I learned firsthand what it costs people when systems are built without them in mind.

I am currently writing User Error, a nonfiction book about digital access and the design decisions behind it. I live in Oakland, California.

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My expertise spans brand, communication, and product design across tech, education, the arts, and social impact.

I believe great work demands both high-level vision and obsessive attention to detail, and only happens through collaboration.

I bring an inclusive, hands-on approach and a deep understanding of business, which enables me to consistently deliver excellence while always asking why.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at the brand firms Pentagram and VSA Partners. I began my career as a designer, leading teams at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Milwaukee Art Museum. I hold an MFA in graphic design from Maryland Institute College of Art and a BFA in communication design from the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design, and have taught at some of the best design schools in the US.

I am responsible for IDEO’s long-term success in China and working with clients to use design as a tool to enable growth. Specifically, I have helped Chinese companies design holistic brand solutions through the development of their products, communication, services, and innovation teams, and I have helped multinationals expand their presence and influence in China.

I advise global leaders on developing China-led innovation and capabilities.

In over 15 years in IDEO Shanghai, I have worked on projects that use design to elevate the quality of the experience of healthcare products and services, streamline processes that increase productivity, create spaces and programs that promote and enable inclusive communities, and build next generation mobility solutions that are planet-positive.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at Philips Electronics and the Electrolux Group in Italy, the Netherlands, and Singapore on a number of breakthrough commercial products. I am a member of the Young President Organization in Shanghai.