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Research for Designers: A Guide to Methods and Practice
Feburary 15, 2025
Two weeks ago, I received the latest edition of Research for Designers: A Guide to Methods and Practice by Gjoko Muratovski (published by SAGE) as a gift. I’ve been enjoying it during my short round trip to Columbus, Ohio. Unlike a typical design research textbook, this book presents a series of conversations between Muratovski and leading design practitioners and educators, exploring how research methods can be applied to real-world case studies and uncovering the creative philosophies of the interviewees.
How can we integrate research into design? In the post-industrial knowledge era, where artificial intelligence (AI), computational technologies, and immersive media are reshaping industries, the lines between designers and researchers are increasingly blurred, projecting the similarity of their roles, skills, and practices (P76). Design, as an applied science, requires structured methodologies such as practice-based research, practice-led research (P293), and action research (P294). These approaches equip designers with an academic framework to initiate research projects, define objectives and scope, monitor processes, and evaluate outcomes and overarching strategies.
The research process is primarily inquiry-and-evidence-driven (P348), extending beyond functional and aesthetic considerations to encompass environmental, social, political, and ethical dimensions. This aligns with Prof. Ezio Manzini’s perspective that designers should observe the world without making generalizations (P309). It also resonates with John Berger’s (1972) insight in Ways of Seeing that we never look at a single object in isolation; instead, we perceive things in relation to one another and ourselves. Berger argued that how we see things is closely embedded in our knowledge, beliefs, and culture (P246).
Comprehending the capability of framing challenges is as valuable as comparing multiple design solutions; they can gain deeper insights by analyzing different design frameworks, methods, and thought processes (P347). Design education can be built on a project-based, self-discovery curriculum supported by curated readings and activities (P348). Ultimately, it aims to foster self-organizing equilibrium systems that contribute to reweaving the social fabric and support sustainable learning (P305).
Two weeks ago, I received the latest edition of Research for Designers: A Guide to Methods and Practice by Gjoko Muratovski (published by SAGE) as a gift. I’ve been enjoying it during my short round trip to Columbus, Ohio. Unlike a typical design research textbook, this book presents a series of conversations between Muratovski and leading design practitioners and educators, exploring how research methods can be applied to real-world case studies and uncovering the creative philosophies of the interviewees.
How can we integrate research into design? In the post-industrial knowledge era, where artificial intelligence (AI), computational technologies, and immersive media are reshaping industries, the lines between designers and researchers are increasingly blurred, projecting the similarity of their roles, skills, and practices (P76). Design, as an applied science, requires structured methodologies such as practice-based research, practice-led research (P293), and action research (P294). These approaches equip designers with an academic framework to initiate research projects, define objectives and scope, monitor processes, and evaluate outcomes and overarching strategies.
The research process is primarily inquiry-and-evidence-driven (P348), extending beyond functional and aesthetic considerations to encompass environmental, social, political, and ethical dimensions. This aligns with Prof. Ezio Manzini’s perspective that designers should observe the world without making generalizations (P309). It also resonates with John Berger’s (1972) insight in Ways of Seeing that we never look at a single object in isolation; instead, we perceive things in relation to one another and ourselves. Berger argued that how we see things is closely embedded in our knowledge, beliefs, and culture (P246).
Comprehending the capability of framing challenges is as valuable as comparing multiple design solutions; they can gain deeper insights by analyzing different design frameworks, methods, and thought processes (P347). Design education can be built on a project-based, self-discovery curriculum supported by curated readings and activities (P348). Ultimately, it aims to foster self-organizing equilibrium systems that contribute to reweaving the social fabric and support sustainable learning (P305).

Politics of the Everyday
Feburary 10, 2025
While drafting my recent paper on relational design, system dynamics, and service innovation, I found Politics of the Everyday by Prof. Ezio Manzini (published by Bloomsbury). His thought-provoking insights provided a valuable source of inspiration for my upcoming book, Design for Longevity. Inspired by Manzini’s ideas, the concept of a “city of the citizens” means that a city is not only made for its citizens (as users) but also made by its citizens (P116). Similarly, the design and development of longevity planning services should not only be created for clients but also co-designed with them alongside their financial advisors or longevity coaches.
Manzini introduced the concept of design capabilities (P38), which include critical sense, creativity, analytical ability, and practical sense. To him, design capabilities are akin to singing: everyone can do it. While not everyone possesses the same level of talent or skill, with practice, we can all contribute—just as one can sing in a choir (P39).
Design capabilities also shape local and global communities, influencing various economic models such as the sharing economy, collaborative economy (P90), platform economy (P88), and longevity economy. How can we leverage these design capabilities to envision and create locally rooted yet interconnected platforms owned by and serve intentional users (P89)? One aspect of such platforms is their ability to generate relational value through collective entanglement (P65). This value emerges from recognizing the significance of friendship, trust, and empathy—qualities inherent in collaborative projects. Furthermore, experience reveals that relational value can be better fostered when individuals work together toward shared visions (P65).
Design capabilities also contribute directly and indirectly to design culture (P125). Design culture is a blend of values and accumulated knowledge derived from reflecting on past experiences. Its existence enriches social discourse, allowing us to generate new thoughts and envision various creative potentials (Manzini & Tassinari, 2016). This emerging and dynamic design culture redefines normality, reshaping the social, political, and environmental meanings of everyday life (P72) to enable the resilient and fluid conditions for this critical notion of “transform normality (P84).”
Economics, in many ways, encapsulates the well-being of communities and societies. At times, society functions as an inescapable control system (P80). Yet, the complexity and unpredictability of our world cannot be distilled into a single design framework. Instead, it requires multiple conceptual models, each offering partial but valuable insights.
While drafting my recent paper on relational design, system dynamics, and service innovation, I found Politics of the Everyday by Prof. Ezio Manzini (published by Bloomsbury). His thought-provoking insights provided a valuable source of inspiration for my upcoming book, Design for Longevity. Inspired by Manzini’s ideas, the concept of a “city of the citizens” means that a city is not only made for its citizens (as users) but also made by its citizens (P116). Similarly, the design and development of longevity planning services should not only be created for clients but also co-designed with them alongside their financial advisors or longevity coaches.
Manzini introduced the concept of design capabilities (P38), which include critical sense, creativity, analytical ability, and practical sense. To him, design capabilities are akin to singing: everyone can do it. While not everyone possesses the same level of talent or skill, with practice, we can all contribute—just as one can sing in a choir (P39).
Design capabilities also shape local and global communities, influencing various economic models such as the sharing economy, collaborative economy (P90), platform economy (P88), and longevity economy. How can we leverage these design capabilities to envision and create locally rooted yet interconnected platforms owned by and serve intentional users (P89)? One aspect of such platforms is their ability to generate relational value through collective entanglement (P65). This value emerges from recognizing the significance of friendship, trust, and empathy—qualities inherent in collaborative projects. Furthermore, experience reveals that relational value can be better fostered when individuals work together toward shared visions (P65).
Design capabilities also contribute directly and indirectly to design culture (P125). Design culture is a blend of values and accumulated knowledge derived from reflecting on past experiences. Its existence enriches social discourse, allowing us to generate new thoughts and envision various creative potentials (Manzini & Tassinari, 2016). This emerging and dynamic design culture redefines normality, reshaping the social, political, and environmental meanings of everyday life (P72) to enable the resilient and fluid conditions for this critical notion of “transform normality (P84).”
Economics, in many ways, encapsulates the well-being of communities and societies. At times, society functions as an inescapable control system (P80). Yet, the complexity and unpredictability of our world cannot be distilled into a single design framework. Instead, it requires multiple conceptual models, each offering partial but valuable insights.

Defuturing: A New Design Philosophy
Feburary 6, 2025
Right after my last committee meeting yesterday, I felt relieved—it was a crucial steppingstone before my defense. Today, the cold and heavy snow mirrored my thoughts as I reflected on my recent readings in Tatte coffee shop. While preparing a draft for a conference paper, I came across Tony Fry’s Defuturing: A New Design Philosophy (published by Bloomsbury). Intrigued, I focused on relationality as a key concept, linking it to system dynamics and causal loop diagram (CLD).
Relational design is an approach that emphasizes the connections between various entities, including people, objects, systems, and spaces, rather than treating design as the creation of isolated artifacts. It is grounded in the idea that design is not merely about producing static objects but fostering dynamic interactions and experiences. The concept of relationality is essential for understanding these connections—much like CLDs and system dynamics, where relationships and hypotheses are dynamically articulated, formed, and entangled. I am particularly curious to explore how relationality can be examined through the lens of “cause and effect (P11).”
Fry suggested that relationality provides a framework for comprehending modes of being-in-the-world in relation to the being-of-the-world—a condition of active involvement. He positioned relationality as a cornerstone of worldmaking, where design could play a crucial role in shaping our environments and experiences (P193).
Although I may not yet fully grasp the depth of Fry’s argument, I appreciate his unique perspective, which draws from history, cultural studies, and design scholarship to reframe our understanding of design’s past, present, and future. Defuturing presents a thought-provoking path to design philosophy that challenges us to rethink how futures are shaped (P242). By embracing multiple possibilities and dynamic, systematic conditions, design is confronted with the challenge of continuous reinvention and limitation while offering new pathways for practical reasoning and transformative action.
Right after my last committee meeting yesterday, I felt relieved—it was a crucial steppingstone before my defense. Today, the cold and heavy snow mirrored my thoughts as I reflected on my recent readings in Tatte coffee shop. While preparing a draft for a conference paper, I came across Tony Fry’s Defuturing: A New Design Philosophy (published by Bloomsbury). Intrigued, I focused on relationality as a key concept, linking it to system dynamics and causal loop diagram (CLD).
Relational design is an approach that emphasizes the connections between various entities, including people, objects, systems, and spaces, rather than treating design as the creation of isolated artifacts. It is grounded in the idea that design is not merely about producing static objects but fostering dynamic interactions and experiences. The concept of relationality is essential for understanding these connections—much like CLDs and system dynamics, where relationships and hypotheses are dynamically articulated, formed, and entangled. I am particularly curious to explore how relationality can be examined through the lens of “cause and effect (P11).”
Fry suggested that relationality provides a framework for comprehending modes of being-in-the-world in relation to the being-of-the-world—a condition of active involvement. He positioned relationality as a cornerstone of worldmaking, where design could play a crucial role in shaping our environments and experiences (P193).
Although I may not yet fully grasp the depth of Fry’s argument, I appreciate his unique perspective, which draws from history, cultural studies, and design scholarship to reframe our understanding of design’s past, present, and future. Defuturing presents a thought-provoking path to design philosophy that challenges us to rethink how futures are shaped (P242). By embracing multiple possibilities and dynamic, systematic conditions, design is confronted with the challenge of continuous reinvention and limitation while offering new pathways for practical reasoning and transformative action.

Relationality: An Emergent Politics of Life Beyond the Human
January 30, 2025
On a short trip to Detroit, squeezed into a tiny economy seat, I took the opportunity to immerse myself in Relationality: An Emergent Politics of Life Beyond the Human by Prof. Arturo Escobar, Prof. Michal Osterweil, and Prof. Kriti Sharma (published by Bloomsbury Visual Arts). Chapter 5—Designing Relationally: Envisioning Paths Towards Pluriversal Transitions (P151)—left a lasting impression on me.
The authors describe designing relationally as a process of creation grounded in the awareness that we exist in inextricable relationships—not only with one another but also with the earth and numerous nonhuman entities. This perspective frames design as a transformative force for social change (P53), influencing territoriality, communality, autonomy, re-existence, pluriversal transitions, and politics.
The concepts of relationality and designing relationally were new to me. The authors explore these ideas through philosophical and theoretical lenses. I have always considered design an action shaped by our lived experiences and rich narratives. This perspective offers the potential for an ontological shift (P151) toward designing pluriversally.
Designing pluriversally suggests designing from, with, and within a system of many systems, embracing diverse scenarios. It is based on the premise that life is fundamentally interdependent, where all interconnected entities. Its goal is the reconstruction of the intricate web of meanings that shape our minds and spaces (P182). As Anne-Marie Willis states, “We design our world, while our world acts back on us and designs us” (P155). This notion transcends beyond aesthetics or functionality; it is about reconstructing social, economic, political, ecological, spiritual, and cultural relations to foster more harmonious relationships in the context of humans, humanity, and the natural world (P161).
Designing pluriversally also contributes to repairing the social, ecological, existential, and emotional damage caused by relentless individuation, de-communalization, de-localization, displacement, and defuturing—consequences of modernity (P182). Today, more than ever, we need diverse ways of being and thinking that enable collective mobilization toward alternative ways of dwelling on the earth (P182). This reminds me of Prof. Ezio Manzini’s perspective on how system change can create a meaningful impact on a local scale, as discussed in Politics of the Everyday.
Additionally, powerful narratives are emerging at the intersections of older ontologies and a surge of new or renewed ontologies, cosmovisions, and practices linked to struggles for social justice and environmental defense (P157). How can we reimagine the design dimensions necessary to redefine the human experience (P40)? As the authors suggest, a loving future begins in a loving present. We can expand our capacity to confront previous and present failures and open our imaginations to possible future.
On a short trip to Detroit, squeezed into a tiny economy seat, I took the opportunity to immerse myself in Relationality: An Emergent Politics of Life Beyond the Human by Prof. Arturo Escobar, Prof. Michal Osterweil, and Prof. Kriti Sharma (published by Bloomsbury Visual Arts). Chapter 5—Designing Relationally: Envisioning Paths Towards Pluriversal Transitions (P151)—left a lasting impression on me.
The authors describe designing relationally as a process of creation grounded in the awareness that we exist in inextricable relationships—not only with one another but also with the earth and numerous nonhuman entities. This perspective frames design as a transformative force for social change (P53), influencing territoriality, communality, autonomy, re-existence, pluriversal transitions, and politics.
The concepts of relationality and designing relationally were new to me. The authors explore these ideas through philosophical and theoretical lenses. I have always considered design an action shaped by our lived experiences and rich narratives. This perspective offers the potential for an ontological shift (P151) toward designing pluriversally.
Designing pluriversally suggests designing from, with, and within a system of many systems, embracing diverse scenarios. It is based on the premise that life is fundamentally interdependent, where all interconnected entities. Its goal is the reconstruction of the intricate web of meanings that shape our minds and spaces (P182). As Anne-Marie Willis states, “We design our world, while our world acts back on us and designs us” (P155). This notion transcends beyond aesthetics or functionality; it is about reconstructing social, economic, political, ecological, spiritual, and cultural relations to foster more harmonious relationships in the context of humans, humanity, and the natural world (P161).
Designing pluriversally also contributes to repairing the social, ecological, existential, and emotional damage caused by relentless individuation, de-communalization, de-localization, displacement, and defuturing—consequences of modernity (P182). Today, more than ever, we need diverse ways of being and thinking that enable collective mobilization toward alternative ways of dwelling on the earth (P182). This reminds me of Prof. Ezio Manzini’s perspective on how system change can create a meaningful impact on a local scale, as discussed in Politics of the Everyday.
Additionally, powerful narratives are emerging at the intersections of older ontologies and a surge of new or renewed ontologies, cosmovisions, and practices linked to struggles for social justice and environmental defense (P157). How can we reimagine the design dimensions necessary to redefine the human experience (P40)? As the authors suggest, a loving future begins in a loving present. We can expand our capacity to confront previous and present failures and open our imaginations to possible future.

In Studio: Recipes for Systemic Change
January 25, 2025
Before the Chinese New Year, I have been working on the chapter on systems for my Ph.D. dissertation. During this process, I found In Studio: Recipes for Systemic Change by Bryan Boyer, Justin W. Cook, Marco Steinberg, and the Helsinki Design Lab (published by Sitra) to be an inspiring and invaluable resource. The book offers a fresh perspective on the intersection of systems and strategic design.
In the era of longevity and experience economics, designers have expanded their focus, evolving their capabilities to choreograph services, interactions, and systems (P29). I resonated with how the authors describe the shift from design as “giving shape to objects” to “using design to give shape to decisions” (P29). It highlights that design represents a creative tension between strategically framing and analyzing problems and developing long-term, purposeful solutions (P40).
Strategic design, as discussed in the book, is a practice rooted in optimism—a notion that the present can be transformed into multiple better possibilities (P138). Designers are not just individuals with attitudes, approaches, and abilities (P26) but also cultural shapers, as renowned industrial designer Karim Rashid described. Design is presented as a culture that bridges the concerns of science and the care of humanities, seeking balanced and opportunistic processes and results grounded in reality yet driven by human aspirations (P25).
The authors also frame intuition as a form of pattern recognition—the ability to instantly identify and comprehend relationships without conscious analysis (P36). Regardless of our design training backgrounds, I believe our lived and professional experiences shape our design intuitions. These include how we pragmatically balance imagination with research, learn through making, communicate through tangible artifacts, pursue strategic intent with iterative action, and integrate systems thinking with humanity-centered design (Norman, 2024), all underpinned by an optimistic belief in progressive and impactful transformation (P139).
This book is a delight to read and savor. Its content, layout, design, and overall user experience are thoughtfully curated. Since I couldn’t find a physical copy, I printed and bound the digital PDF to enjoy while making notes, sipping coffee, and basking in the winter sunlight on the MIT campus.
Before the Chinese New Year, I have been working on the chapter on systems for my Ph.D. dissertation. During this process, I found In Studio: Recipes for Systemic Change by Bryan Boyer, Justin W. Cook, Marco Steinberg, and the Helsinki Design Lab (published by Sitra) to be an inspiring and invaluable resource. The book offers a fresh perspective on the intersection of systems and strategic design.
In the era of longevity and experience economics, designers have expanded their focus, evolving their capabilities to choreograph services, interactions, and systems (P29). I resonated with how the authors describe the shift from design as “giving shape to objects” to “using design to give shape to decisions” (P29). It highlights that design represents a creative tension between strategically framing and analyzing problems and developing long-term, purposeful solutions (P40).
Strategic design, as discussed in the book, is a practice rooted in optimism—a notion that the present can be transformed into multiple better possibilities (P138). Designers are not just individuals with attitudes, approaches, and abilities (P26) but also cultural shapers, as renowned industrial designer Karim Rashid described. Design is presented as a culture that bridges the concerns of science and the care of humanities, seeking balanced and opportunistic processes and results grounded in reality yet driven by human aspirations (P25).
The authors also frame intuition as a form of pattern recognition—the ability to instantly identify and comprehend relationships without conscious analysis (P36). Regardless of our design training backgrounds, I believe our lived and professional experiences shape our design intuitions. These include how we pragmatically balance imagination with research, learn through making, communicate through tangible artifacts, pursue strategic intent with iterative action, and integrate systems thinking with humanity-centered design (Norman, 2024), all underpinned by an optimistic belief in progressive and impactful transformation (P139).
This book is a delight to read and savor. Its content, layout, design, and overall user experience are thoughtfully curated. Since I couldn’t find a physical copy, I printed and bound the digital PDF to enjoy while making notes, sipping coffee, and basking in the winter sunlight on the MIT campus.

Diagrams of Power: Visualizing, Mapping, and Performing Resistance
January 21, 2025
The connection between the noun or verb “power” and design has always fascinated me. Last year, I found Diagrams of Power: Visualizing, Mapping, and Performing Resistance, edited by Patricio Dávila (published by Set Margins’), at the Ulises book exhibition at The School of the Museum of Fine Arts (SMFA) at Tufts University in Boston.
What is the map of power, the power of maps, or power by maps?
Visualizations and maps are often perceived as objective representations of truth and authority, produced through scientific inquiry or statistical analysis by experts in research institutes or governments. However, I see maps as boundary objects, a concept introduced by Susan Leigh Star and James R. Griesemer in 1989. Boundary objects facilitate collaboration among individuals or groups with diverse perspectives without requiring consensus. While we typically think of maps as physical artifacts, they can also be visual, informational, or digital expressions that guide discussions or facilitate communication. Representing data tangibly further expands the scope of what a map can achieve.
As the authors denoted, most maps carry inherent politics, often concealed beneath an “objective” skin (P191). Maps can easily bridge and connect places, people, and power, revealing systemic and inter-relational struggles through their context of use (P267). One way to demonstrate the objective surface is by applying a self-ethnographic approach, which not only mirrors designers’ or artists’ visualization processes but also explores individuals’ identities, intricate geography, layered narrative, and cultural history and context (P168). Moreover, considering data as relational and representational (P269) can highlight its potential to shape broader urban forms and complex societal structures.
The community’s role in creating and controlling maps is crucial. Sharing this information depends on a shared understanding of the power of maps and a collective decision to manage community data (P270). Communities, as types of open platforms for action (P269), can leverage maps to drive social change. I am intrigued by the potential impact of mobilizing and disseminating this information and data more effectively (P279). Such efforts could enable data-led storytelling for meaningful social impact.
The connection between the noun or verb “power” and design has always fascinated me. Last year, I found Diagrams of Power: Visualizing, Mapping, and Performing Resistance, edited by Patricio Dávila (published by Set Margins’), at the Ulises book exhibition at The School of the Museum of Fine Arts (SMFA) at Tufts University in Boston.
What is the map of power, the power of maps, or power by maps?
Visualizations and maps are often perceived as objective representations of truth and authority, produced through scientific inquiry or statistical analysis by experts in research institutes or governments. However, I see maps as boundary objects, a concept introduced by Susan Leigh Star and James R. Griesemer in 1989. Boundary objects facilitate collaboration among individuals or groups with diverse perspectives without requiring consensus. While we typically think of maps as physical artifacts, they can also be visual, informational, or digital expressions that guide discussions or facilitate communication. Representing data tangibly further expands the scope of what a map can achieve.
As the authors denoted, most maps carry inherent politics, often concealed beneath an “objective” skin (P191). Maps can easily bridge and connect places, people, and power, revealing systemic and inter-relational struggles through their context of use (P267). One way to demonstrate the objective surface is by applying a self-ethnographic approach, which not only mirrors designers’ or artists’ visualization processes but also explores individuals’ identities, intricate geography, layered narrative, and cultural history and context (P168). Moreover, considering data as relational and representational (P269) can highlight its potential to shape broader urban forms and complex societal structures.
The community’s role in creating and controlling maps is crucial. Sharing this information depends on a shared understanding of the power of maps and a collective decision to manage community data (P270). Communities, as types of open platforms for action (P269), can leverage maps to drive social change. I am intrigued by the potential impact of mobilizing and disseminating this information and data more effectively (P279). Such efforts could enable data-led storytelling for meaningful social impact.

The Design of Tactics: Critical Practices Transforming Public Spaces
Januray 18, 2025
At a design conference in Italy 2023, I discovered The Design of Tactics: Critical Practices Transforming Public Spaces, edited by Francesca Gotti, Jacopo Leveratto, and Cristina F. Colombo (published by DPR-barcelona). With some leisure time during the long weekend on campus, I immersed myself in its thought-provoking content.
The book presents a series of case studies from contemporary European cities, exploring how marginalized and neglected public spaces can be revitalized through tactical interventions, co-creation practices, and ethnographic research. These approaches aim to foster meaningful encounters between people and cultures, ultimately enhancing the quality of urban living.
This examination of human connections, relationships, and culture brought to mind the service encounter experiment in the Design for Longevity (D4L) project (Lee et al., 2025), which explored interactions between service providers (e.g., longevity coaches or financial advisors) and participants (e.g., clients or users). Extending this concept to encompass culture and public spaces adds layers of complexity but also opens up profound opportunities. Modern cities are increasingly characterized by “in-between” spaces—those transitional or undefined areas that challenge traditional urban typologies and frameworks, including settlement principles, planning scales, and design agencies (P185). This invites us to reconsider and redefine the evolving roles and interpretations of the “third space.”
The discussion resonates with Booms and Bitner’s (1981) servicescape framework, which examines how the physical environment and artifacts can potentially shape and reshape service processes and people’s interactions. Incorporating cultural dimensions into this framework encourages more sophisticated dialogue and layered engagement between people and spaces, enabling them to adapt to dynamic conditions. Adaptation, in this context, becomes a transformative process—a negotiation where individuals and communities shape their environments to align with their desires and aspirations while simultaneously adjusting their behaviors, social norms, and even belief systems to suit the evolving context (P13).
Traditional research methods may need to evolve due to the increasing complexity and systemic socio-economic design challenges. This transformation entails a shift from research on practice, research by practice to practice as research (P10). This method could empower design researchers and academics to delve deeper into the value of co-creation, dialogic cultural engagement, and the potential of “in-between” spaces, fostering innovative and inclusive urban strategies.
At a design conference in Italy 2023, I discovered The Design of Tactics: Critical Practices Transforming Public Spaces, edited by Francesca Gotti, Jacopo Leveratto, and Cristina F. Colombo (published by DPR-barcelona). With some leisure time during the long weekend on campus, I immersed myself in its thought-provoking content.
The book presents a series of case studies from contemporary European cities, exploring how marginalized and neglected public spaces can be revitalized through tactical interventions, co-creation practices, and ethnographic research. These approaches aim to foster meaningful encounters between people and cultures, ultimately enhancing the quality of urban living.
This examination of human connections, relationships, and culture brought to mind the service encounter experiment in the Design for Longevity (D4L) project (Lee et al., 2025), which explored interactions between service providers (e.g., longevity coaches or financial advisors) and participants (e.g., clients or users). Extending this concept to encompass culture and public spaces adds layers of complexity but also opens up profound opportunities. Modern cities are increasingly characterized by “in-between” spaces—those transitional or undefined areas that challenge traditional urban typologies and frameworks, including settlement principles, planning scales, and design agencies (P185). This invites us to reconsider and redefine the evolving roles and interpretations of the “third space.”
The discussion resonates with Booms and Bitner’s (1981) servicescape framework, which examines how the physical environment and artifacts can potentially shape and reshape service processes and people’s interactions. Incorporating cultural dimensions into this framework encourages more sophisticated dialogue and layered engagement between people and spaces, enabling them to adapt to dynamic conditions. Adaptation, in this context, becomes a transformative process—a negotiation where individuals and communities shape their environments to align with their desires and aspirations while simultaneously adjusting their behaviors, social norms, and even belief systems to suit the evolving context (P13).
Traditional research methods may need to evolve due to the increasing complexity and systemic socio-economic design challenges. This transformation entails a shift from research on practice, research by practice to practice as research (P10). This method could empower design researchers and academics to delve deeper into the value of co-creation, dialogic cultural engagement, and the potential of “in-between” spaces, fostering innovative and inclusive urban strategies.

Engineering for Industrial Designers and Inventors: Fundamentals for Designers of Wonderful Things
In 2020, I was honored to receive Engineering for Industrial Designers and Inventors: Fundamentals for Designers of Wonderful Things (published by O'Reilly Media) as a gift from Professor Thomas Ask. This book not only shaped my approach to preparing the syllabus design for last week’s academic job interview assignment but also serves as a profound source of inspiration for my upcoming book, Design for Longevity (D4L).
The book highlights that design is both an applied science and a social act, distinct from art, which is often deeply personal but can also raise social awareness and inspire personal reflection. Design, however, operates within a broader context (P3). While the engineering side provides the technical foundation, exploring its non-technical aspects requires ethnography, empathy, curiosity, and a drive to synthesize insights (P10).
Designers bring or curate new order out of chaos, a process closely aligned with systems thinking. This perspective addresses the interconnectedness of objects, services, and systems through innovative lenses. Design is inherently cross-disciplinary, bridging diverse fields, and reflects the author’s assertion that most disciplines operate within social contexts. The intellectual ecology of these contexts profoundly shapes individuals’ behaviors and opinions (P11).
One of the book’s most thought-provoking insights is that designers often lack sufficient information to make purely scientific decisions. This “bounded rationality” compels them to rely on abductive reasoning—forming conclusions based on limited data rather than adhering strictly to established rules. In this approach, the end often justifies the means (P11). However, sometimes, this unconventional path might spur innovations!
The era of celebrating individual “hero designers” is behind us. Today’s design challenges are complex and systematic, encompassing climate change, aging populations, and wildfires. As designers, we collaborate to navigate these challenges, continually adapting to new environmental conditions. Crucially, we should ask ourselves what political, social, and ecological consequences our actions may have (P156).
The book highlights that design is both an applied science and a social act, distinct from art, which is often deeply personal but can also raise social awareness and inspire personal reflection. Design, however, operates within a broader context (P3). While the engineering side provides the technical foundation, exploring its non-technical aspects requires ethnography, empathy, curiosity, and a drive to synthesize insights (P10).
Designers bring or curate new order out of chaos, a process closely aligned with systems thinking. This perspective addresses the interconnectedness of objects, services, and systems through innovative lenses. Design is inherently cross-disciplinary, bridging diverse fields, and reflects the author’s assertion that most disciplines operate within social contexts. The intellectual ecology of these contexts profoundly shapes individuals’ behaviors and opinions (P11).
One of the book’s most thought-provoking insights is that designers often lack sufficient information to make purely scientific decisions. This “bounded rationality” compels them to rely on abductive reasoning—forming conclusions based on limited data rather than adhering strictly to established rules. In this approach, the end often justifies the means (P11). However, sometimes, this unconventional path might spur innovations!
The era of celebrating individual “hero designers” is behind us. Today’s design challenges are complex and systematic, encompassing climate change, aging populations, and wildfires. As designers, we collaborate to navigate these challenges, continually adapting to new environmental conditions. Crucially, we should ask ourselves what political, social, and ecological consequences our actions may have (P156).

User Friendly: How the Hidden Rules of Design Are Changing the Way We Live, Work, and Play
January 9, 2025
I sat at Tatte Coffee Shop in Kendall Square, facing the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the road. As I reflected on my next big leap, I jotted down thoughts inspired by User Friendly: How the Hidden Rules of Design Are Changing the Way We Live, Work, and Play by Cliff Kuang and Robert Fabricant (published by MCD), a book that has lingered on my small but ever-changing bookshelf for some time.
Unsurprisingly, the concept of design thinking is often invoked to address problems of every scale (P24). I prefer the term “design process,” as it acknowledges the interplay between design thinking and design making—both essential and complementary aspects of design. At its core, design assumes that we can craft objects, services, experiences, and systems that are more humane. Achieving this requires adopting a new way of seeing our world (P46). For instance, after the infamous Three Mile Island nuclear accident in 1978, interviews with Don Norman revealed a critical insight: “We were building technology for people, but some technologies didn’t understand people” (P25). This realization spurred Norman to research and advocate for design approaches centered on human factors, human-machine interactions, and cognitive psychology (P95).
Kuang and Fabricant interpreted user-friendliness as the alignment between the objects in our world and our behaviors (P96). In Fabricant’s 2009 presentation Behavior Is Our Medium, he noted that the essential material for innovation isn’t aluminum or carbon fiber but the behavior itself (P96). Our behaviors are deeply influenced by our physical, mental, and metaphorical space. Metaphors, often embedded in our daily experiences, shape our understanding of the world. Phrases like “time is money,” “life is a journey,” or “the body is a machine” illustrate how metaphors structure our environment. Many of these metaphors have been intentionally designed (P135). For example, the metaphor of horse riding could inspire a new paradigm for driving (P144). In creating new technologies, we climb a ladder of metaphors, each rung helping us ascend to the next breakthrough (P147). This transformative power enables metaphors to carry ideas from specialized domains into broader social contexts (P134).
To grasp the essence of the book, I recommend starting with the Afterword (P301), which offers a compelling overview of its themes. Then, explore the appendix (P331) for a brief history of user-friendly design. My favorite chapters delve into metaphor (P129), empathy (P161), and humanity (P187). These sections encouraged me to reflect on the hidden rules of design and how they manifest in my everyday life.
I sat at Tatte Coffee Shop in Kendall Square, facing the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the road. As I reflected on my next big leap, I jotted down thoughts inspired by User Friendly: How the Hidden Rules of Design Are Changing the Way We Live, Work, and Play by Cliff Kuang and Robert Fabricant (published by MCD), a book that has lingered on my small but ever-changing bookshelf for some time.
Unsurprisingly, the concept of design thinking is often invoked to address problems of every scale (P24). I prefer the term “design process,” as it acknowledges the interplay between design thinking and design making—both essential and complementary aspects of design. At its core, design assumes that we can craft objects, services, experiences, and systems that are more humane. Achieving this requires adopting a new way of seeing our world (P46). For instance, after the infamous Three Mile Island nuclear accident in 1978, interviews with Don Norman revealed a critical insight: “We were building technology for people, but some technologies didn’t understand people” (P25). This realization spurred Norman to research and advocate for design approaches centered on human factors, human-machine interactions, and cognitive psychology (P95).
Kuang and Fabricant interpreted user-friendliness as the alignment between the objects in our world and our behaviors (P96). In Fabricant’s 2009 presentation Behavior Is Our Medium, he noted that the essential material for innovation isn’t aluminum or carbon fiber but the behavior itself (P96). Our behaviors are deeply influenced by our physical, mental, and metaphorical space. Metaphors, often embedded in our daily experiences, shape our understanding of the world. Phrases like “time is money,” “life is a journey,” or “the body is a machine” illustrate how metaphors structure our environment. Many of these metaphors have been intentionally designed (P135). For example, the metaphor of horse riding could inspire a new paradigm for driving (P144). In creating new technologies, we climb a ladder of metaphors, each rung helping us ascend to the next breakthrough (P147). This transformative power enables metaphors to carry ideas from specialized domains into broader social contexts (P134).
To grasp the essence of the book, I recommend starting with the Afterword (P301), which offers a compelling overview of its themes. Then, explore the appendix (P331) for a brief history of user-friendly design. My favorite chapters delve into metaphor (P129), empathy (P161), and humanity (P187). These sections encouraged me to reflect on the hidden rules of design and how they manifest in my everyday life.

Modern Educational Dance
December 29, 2024
In 2023 summer, while giving a speech and exhibition at Venice Innovation Design (VID), I stumbled upon Modern Educational Dance by Rudolf von Laban, the renowned Austro-Hungarian dance artist and choreographer, at a second-hand bookstore in Venice. I was immediately drawn to it and decided to delve into it over Christmas, juggling dissertation drafting and journal paper revisions.
Laban’s innovative approach to translating body movement into text and his space-orientation framework (P35, 37) captivated me. His exploration of 16 basic movement themes, the rudiments of free dance technique, and the concept of the “sphere of movement” across ages sparked new design perspectives for me. Although I am not an expert in modern dance, I was fascinated by how Laban’s elegant calligraphy and notations resonated with the creative process. His work extended beyond stage performances to encompass social dancing and everyday behaviors, revealing how conscious or unconscious movement embodies aspects of the art of meaningful expression (P9).
Laban asserted that movement is essential to life (P133), describing it as a cultivated sensibility (P134) and a form of human expression (P10). He wrote that dance allows individuals to create, express, and interpret rhythms and forms (P109), echoing his insightful remark: “Movement is the essence of life, and all expression, whether it be speaking, writing, singing, painting, or dancing, uses movement as a vehicle, we can not help seeing the importance of understanding this outward expression of the living energy within, and this we can do through effort study (P101).”
Through the movement of our bodies, we can connect our inner selves to the outer world (P109), a sentiment that aligns closely with the design of embodied experiences. As designers, much like dancers, we immerse ourselves entirely in the material of movement, exploring its possibilities and challenges (P117).
This book has created an intriguing synergy with my thoughts on design. Design, like movement, is dynamic, a dance of momentum between creators and users. Design is also fluid, like water, capable of penetrating potential possibilities.
Highlighting passages with my pink highlighter felt like marking moments of inspiration—a new movement within me sparked by Laban’s insights.
In 2023 summer, while giving a speech and exhibition at Venice Innovation Design (VID), I stumbled upon Modern Educational Dance by Rudolf von Laban, the renowned Austro-Hungarian dance artist and choreographer, at a second-hand bookstore in Venice. I was immediately drawn to it and decided to delve into it over Christmas, juggling dissertation drafting and journal paper revisions.
Laban’s innovative approach to translating body movement into text and his space-orientation framework (P35, 37) captivated me. His exploration of 16 basic movement themes, the rudiments of free dance technique, and the concept of the “sphere of movement” across ages sparked new design perspectives for me. Although I am not an expert in modern dance, I was fascinated by how Laban’s elegant calligraphy and notations resonated with the creative process. His work extended beyond stage performances to encompass social dancing and everyday behaviors, revealing how conscious or unconscious movement embodies aspects of the art of meaningful expression (P9).
Laban asserted that movement is essential to life (P133), describing it as a cultivated sensibility (P134) and a form of human expression (P10). He wrote that dance allows individuals to create, express, and interpret rhythms and forms (P109), echoing his insightful remark: “Movement is the essence of life, and all expression, whether it be speaking, writing, singing, painting, or dancing, uses movement as a vehicle, we can not help seeing the importance of understanding this outward expression of the living energy within, and this we can do through effort study (P101).”
Through the movement of our bodies, we can connect our inner selves to the outer world (P109), a sentiment that aligns closely with the design of embodied experiences. As designers, much like dancers, we immerse ourselves entirely in the material of movement, exploring its possibilities and challenges (P117).
This book has created an intriguing synergy with my thoughts on design. Design, like movement, is dynamic, a dance of momentum between creators and users. Design is also fluid, like water, capable of penetrating potential possibilities.
Highlighting passages with my pink highlighter felt like marking moments of inspiration—a new movement within me sparked by Laban’s insights.

Linda Rampell: The Shopmodern Condition
December 23, 2024
The Shopmodern Condition by Linda Rampell (published by Art And Theory Publishing) is a thought-provoking and visually striking book featuring a beautifully designed cover that immediately caught my attention. I purchased it earlier this year at ISBN+, a contemporary art center and bookshop in Budapest, Hungary. As the Christmas and New Year holidays approach, I’ve managed to carve out some in-between work time to dive into its pages.
Interestingly, I started reading the book from the middle, bypassing the suggested sequence. From the outset, it became clear that this book was not easy to grasp. Reading, in this case, does not necessarily equate to understanding, especially in the context of design consumption. In Rampell’s perspective, consumption is no longer merely about purchasing and using goods. Instead, it represents a more profound phenomenon of being consumed by images, where even personal identities are commodified.
Rampell introduces the concept of “Designdarwinism,” describing it as a life-and-death struggle for self-improvement in an image-dominated culture. The history of design is inseparable from the history of capitalism. She presented a critical exploration of contemporary design capitalism. Since design is inherently created to be sold, any critique of consumption by designers themselves inevitably carries an element of irony.
Rampell writes, “A life without capitalism is a life without design and designers (P248).” She provocatively asks, “How can we induce a person to buy our goods without feeling forced into purchasing (P237)?” Design constructs a context for a product or service before it even exists (P207). Design is neither an object, like a chair, nor a behavior, such as sitting, but a capitalistic process that shapes our thinking. “The aim is not to produce design but to use design as a means for reproducing money; design is a capitalistic prosthesis” (P171), she declares.
The design inherently involves subtraction as much as an addition. “Design always involves designing away something and someone else. Though generally considered an addition, design is a subtraction: removing the undesigned (P232).” This subtractive nature makes design a powerful tool for “social engineering.” From what she terms an “aesthetonomical” perspective, design serves as a mechanism for socializing and assimilating the plural into a homogenous identity, essentially reshaping the other into the same (P233).
Rampell’s insights critique design's role in perpetuating capitalist structures, making The Shopmodern Condition an intellectually challenging yet deeply rewarding read.
The Shopmodern Condition by Linda Rampell (published by Art And Theory Publishing) is a thought-provoking and visually striking book featuring a beautifully designed cover that immediately caught my attention. I purchased it earlier this year at ISBN+, a contemporary art center and bookshop in Budapest, Hungary. As the Christmas and New Year holidays approach, I’ve managed to carve out some in-between work time to dive into its pages.
Interestingly, I started reading the book from the middle, bypassing the suggested sequence. From the outset, it became clear that this book was not easy to grasp. Reading, in this case, does not necessarily equate to understanding, especially in the context of design consumption. In Rampell’s perspective, consumption is no longer merely about purchasing and using goods. Instead, it represents a more profound phenomenon of being consumed by images, where even personal identities are commodified.
Rampell introduces the concept of “Designdarwinism,” describing it as a life-and-death struggle for self-improvement in an image-dominated culture. The history of design is inseparable from the history of capitalism. She presented a critical exploration of contemporary design capitalism. Since design is inherently created to be sold, any critique of consumption by designers themselves inevitably carries an element of irony.
Rampell writes, “A life without capitalism is a life without design and designers (P248).” She provocatively asks, “How can we induce a person to buy our goods without feeling forced into purchasing (P237)?” Design constructs a context for a product or service before it even exists (P207). Design is neither an object, like a chair, nor a behavior, such as sitting, but a capitalistic process that shapes our thinking. “The aim is not to produce design but to use design as a means for reproducing money; design is a capitalistic prosthesis” (P171), she declares.
The design inherently involves subtraction as much as an addition. “Design always involves designing away something and someone else. Though generally considered an addition, design is a subtraction: removing the undesigned (P232).” This subtractive nature makes design a powerful tool for “social engineering.” From what she terms an “aesthetonomical” perspective, design serves as a mechanism for socializing and assimilating the plural into a homogenous identity, essentially reshaping the other into the same (P233).
Rampell’s insights critique design's role in perpetuating capitalist structures, making The Shopmodern Condition an intellectually challenging yet deeply rewarding read.

Belonging & Belongings
December 18, 2024
On my flight back from Minneapolis to Boston, I spent three hours engrossed in Belonging & Belongings by Geke Van Dijk, Bas Raijmakers, and Daijiro Mizuno. Despite being published in 2014, the book remains highly relevant to design research, design ethnography, and video ethnography. Its thought-provoking approach and research topics still resonate deeply with contemporary practices.
Jean Rouch (2009) pioneered a method of using film in ethnography, bridging cinema and anthropology. This approach aligns with Stoller’s (1992) argument that film is not merely a tool for data collection but an “arena” of inquiry (P65). The book emphasizes contextual inquiry, inspiring curiosity and passion about how people are seen and how they see others (P77). Through keen observation, visual materials in ethnographic studies provide valuable insights into everyday practices (P174). These materials offer a dual benefit: they represent contemporary phenomena while serving as a timeless reference and inspiration for design (P 174).
Design ethnography encompasses a wide range of human behaviors and experiences. For example, technology can be viewed as a cultural practice, with technological objects acting as expressions of identity (P49). Devices like Sony’s Walkman and Apple’s iPod have embodied individuals’ identities, tastes, and social status, reflecting the cultural context of their respective eras. Jan Chipchase, Founder and Director of Studio D and former Executive Creative Director of Global Insights at Frog, highlighted this intersection in his 2007 TED talk, The Anthropology of Mobile Phones. He observed, “If you ask people what the three most important things they carry are… across cultures, gender, and contexts, most people will say keys, money, and if they own one, a mobile phone” (P93).
The book also explores how people define their “superselves” — whether they align with their authentic selves, online identities, or somewhere in between (P181). It raises questions about how much control we have over our online personas and how accurately they reflect who we truly are (P163). The enduring value of design ethnography lies in its focus on humanity—our everyday needs and the intricate relationships between individuals, systems, and societal structures. As the book notes, this makes its insights timeless, speaking to universal aspects of the human experience (P92).
On my flight back from Minneapolis to Boston, I spent three hours engrossed in Belonging & Belongings by Geke Van Dijk, Bas Raijmakers, and Daijiro Mizuno. Despite being published in 2014, the book remains highly relevant to design research, design ethnography, and video ethnography. Its thought-provoking approach and research topics still resonate deeply with contemporary practices.
Jean Rouch (2009) pioneered a method of using film in ethnography, bridging cinema and anthropology. This approach aligns with Stoller’s (1992) argument that film is not merely a tool for data collection but an “arena” of inquiry (P65). The book emphasizes contextual inquiry, inspiring curiosity and passion about how people are seen and how they see others (P77). Through keen observation, visual materials in ethnographic studies provide valuable insights into everyday practices (P174). These materials offer a dual benefit: they represent contemporary phenomena while serving as a timeless reference and inspiration for design (P 174).
Design ethnography encompasses a wide range of human behaviors and experiences. For example, technology can be viewed as a cultural practice, with technological objects acting as expressions of identity (P49). Devices like Sony’s Walkman and Apple’s iPod have embodied individuals’ identities, tastes, and social status, reflecting the cultural context of their respective eras. Jan Chipchase, Founder and Director of Studio D and former Executive Creative Director of Global Insights at Frog, highlighted this intersection in his 2007 TED talk, The Anthropology of Mobile Phones. He observed, “If you ask people what the three most important things they carry are… across cultures, gender, and contexts, most people will say keys, money, and if they own one, a mobile phone” (P93).
The book also explores how people define their “superselves” — whether they align with their authentic selves, online identities, or somewhere in between (P181). It raises questions about how much control we have over our online personas and how accurately they reflect who we truly are (P163). The enduring value of design ethnography lies in its focus on humanity—our everyday needs and the intricate relationships between individuals, systems, and societal structures. As the book notes, this makes its insights timeless, speaking to universal aspects of the human experience (P92).

Viewfinders: Thoughts on Visual Design Research
December 14, 2024
Oops, there was another job rejection after the first round of interviews. It did dampen my mood over the weekend, but it didn’t deter me from my weekly passions: reading and reflecting on design.
Lately, I’ve been diving into the work of Dr. Bas Raijmakers, particularly his doctoral dissertation on Design Documentaries at the Royal College of Art (RCA) in June 2007. He explored documentary film as a performative exchange between the people in the film, the filmmakers, and the spectators (P39). A film, he suggested, becomes a reality, a language, and a conversation (P36). It serves as a tool for translation, utilizing formal qualities such as image framing and editing techniques, though these are often underutilized (P36).
I also discovered and thoroughly enjoyed his book, Viewfinders: Thoughts on Visual Design Research (published by STBY Ltd. in 2016). The concept of “viewfinders” itself offers a fascinating lens on how visual material can be captured, analyzed, synthesized, presented, and revisited throughout the creative process (P86). It provides an alternative way to translate and reinterpret cross-cultural and cross-generational diversity (P49).
One idea I found particularly interesting is the notion of multiple meanings (P58). Dr. Raijmakers emphasized that an image never has “one true meaning.” The same image may carry varied (and even conflicting) interpretations at different stages of ethnographic research and representation. Ambiguity, he argues, is a resource for design inspiration. Often, design spaces emerge when our perspectives oscillate between the facts captured by the lens, and the imagination sparked in our minds (P15).
Visual ethnography studies social organization and culture in everyday life through photography, video, or film (P58). In this context, the design researcher takes on the role of a photographer (P49). Video, as a participatory design material, has much to learn from the traditions of documentary filmmaking. Dr. Raijmakers beautifully encapsulates this idea with the phrase: “Eyes like a shutter, mind like a lens.”
Oops, there was another job rejection after the first round of interviews. It did dampen my mood over the weekend, but it didn’t deter me from my weekly passions: reading and reflecting on design.
Lately, I’ve been diving into the work of Dr. Bas Raijmakers, particularly his doctoral dissertation on Design Documentaries at the Royal College of Art (RCA) in June 2007. He explored documentary film as a performative exchange between the people in the film, the filmmakers, and the spectators (P39). A film, he suggested, becomes a reality, a language, and a conversation (P36). It serves as a tool for translation, utilizing formal qualities such as image framing and editing techniques, though these are often underutilized (P36).
I also discovered and thoroughly enjoyed his book, Viewfinders: Thoughts on Visual Design Research (published by STBY Ltd. in 2016). The concept of “viewfinders” itself offers a fascinating lens on how visual material can be captured, analyzed, synthesized, presented, and revisited throughout the creative process (P86). It provides an alternative way to translate and reinterpret cross-cultural and cross-generational diversity (P49).
One idea I found particularly interesting is the notion of multiple meanings (P58). Dr. Raijmakers emphasized that an image never has “one true meaning.” The same image may carry varied (and even conflicting) interpretations at different stages of ethnographic research and representation. Ambiguity, he argues, is a resource for design inspiration. Often, design spaces emerge when our perspectives oscillate between the facts captured by the lens, and the imagination sparked in our minds (P15).
Visual ethnography studies social organization and culture in everyday life through photography, video, or film (P58). In this context, the design researcher takes on the role of a photographer (P49). Video, as a participatory design material, has much to learn from the traditions of documentary filmmaking. Dr. Raijmakers beautifully encapsulates this idea with the phrase: “Eyes like a shutter, mind like a lens.”

Superstorm: Politics and Design in the Age of Information
The holiday season has been a whirlwind, as usual. Amidst the chaos, I managed to carve out a quiet moment at the library to delve into Noemi Biasetton’s Superstorm: Politics and Design in the Age of Information, published by Onomatopee. This work offers a fascinating exploration of the intersection of political communication, visuals, and media design.
Through her lens, she interprets design as a contextual practice that challenges conventional approaches to political issues, a perspective she articulates with remarkable clarity (P98). Her insights offer a rich framework for understanding the role of design in shaping political discourse, including design with politics, design about politics, and design of politics.
Today’s media landscape shifts from traditional media’s vertical information transmission model to new media’s horizontal approach (P93). In this horizontal model, diverse locations and rich cultures gain attention, and governance and organizational structures increasingly rely on collective intelligence to navigate complex socioeconomic challenges. These transformations reflect an evolving participatory dynamic in political communication.
If we trace the historical roots of this shift to a series of technological, social, and cultural changes beginning in the 1960s. These changes redefined the imagery and mediums of political communication (P35). Objects, visuals, and media have become embedded with political meanings tailored to various purposes and needs.
A compelling argument in the book focuses on the democratization of technology. She highlights how the objective of making technology more accessible has transformed it from a “tool of oppression” into a “liberation tool” (P49). This shift has driven innovation in citizen-centered, participatory approaches to political communication, decentralized design processes, and disintermediated forms of engagement. Technologies now empower individuals to form “imagined communities,” enabling geographically dispersed people to transcend time and distance to create virtual communities of shared purpose (P182).
The future is not a blank canvas awaiting human creativity (P99). Instead, the future is often preconditioned by ideas inherited from the past, shaped to fulfill present desires while frequently neglecting long-term strategies (P100). This perspective serves as a poignant reminder of the need for mindful, forward-thinking design in addressing contemporary political and social challenges.
Through her lens, she interprets design as a contextual practice that challenges conventional approaches to political issues, a perspective she articulates with remarkable clarity (P98). Her insights offer a rich framework for understanding the role of design in shaping political discourse, including design with politics, design about politics, and design of politics.
Today’s media landscape shifts from traditional media’s vertical information transmission model to new media’s horizontal approach (P93). In this horizontal model, diverse locations and rich cultures gain attention, and governance and organizational structures increasingly rely on collective intelligence to navigate complex socioeconomic challenges. These transformations reflect an evolving participatory dynamic in political communication.
If we trace the historical roots of this shift to a series of technological, social, and cultural changes beginning in the 1960s. These changes redefined the imagery and mediums of political communication (P35). Objects, visuals, and media have become embedded with political meanings tailored to various purposes and needs.
A compelling argument in the book focuses on the democratization of technology. She highlights how the objective of making technology more accessible has transformed it from a “tool of oppression” into a “liberation tool” (P49). This shift has driven innovation in citizen-centered, participatory approaches to political communication, decentralized design processes, and disintermediated forms of engagement. Technologies now empower individuals to form “imagined communities,” enabling geographically dispersed people to transcend time and distance to create virtual communities of shared purpose (P182).
The future is not a blank canvas awaiting human creativity (P99). Instead, the future is often preconditioned by ideas inherited from the past, shaped to fulfill present desires while frequently neglecting long-term strategies (P100). This perspective serves as a poignant reminder of the need for mindful, forward-thinking design in addressing contemporary political and social challenges.

Longevity Hubs: Regional Innovation for Global Aging
December 1, 2024
Before celebrating this year's Thanksgiving, I was fortunate to receive a copy of Longevity Hubs: Regional Innovation for Global Aging (published by MIT Press) directly from two authors and mentors, Dr. Joseph F. Coughlin and Luke Yoquinto, at MIT AgeLab. The book delves into a wide range of topics, including aging well, workforce engagement, transportation, innovation, caregiving, finances, research and development, housing, health, and living laboratories.
The concept of a “longevity hub” captivated me as a designer. The authors define it as “any hotspot characterized by a disproportionate level of innovative activity aimed at the older population and related markets.” This notion reminded me of the term “glocal,” a blend of “global” and “local.” Glocal innovation retains a region’s unique characteristics while holding the potential to expand globally. It feels like constructing multiple unique sub-systems to address the complex challenges of longevity-related issues or systems.
Coughlin and Yoquinto emphasize how regional innovation can significantly enhance local quality of life without necessarily scaling solutions for global aging markets. Instead, the focus shifts to cultivating expertise in developing scalable, exportable products and services while prioritizing local quality of life (P276).
Emerging longevity needs encompass not only health and wealth but also social and mental well-being. The UAE’s National Program, launched in 2016, exemplifies this holistic approach by emphasizing happiness and well-being to promote active aging lifestyles (P136).
The demographic transformation brought about by aging populations has enabled regions and countries to adopt innovative policies, social infrastructure, and systems to tackle these challenges (P185). This notion offers opportunities to address, solve, and refine the socio-economic and technological complexities associated with aging.
I was particularly intrigued by the discussion of the tech-enabled distributed economy (P165). For example, Japan has developed a sophisticated sharing economy structured around five categories: goods, space, mobility, skills, and money, preparing the nation to embrace a super-aging society (P167).
Well-known international platforms like Airbnb, Uber, Spacemarket, and Gengo illustrate how sharing services can foster age-friendly innovation and economic activity, breaking away from traditional business models and evolving from linear and circular economics to longevity and sharing economies.
Before celebrating this year's Thanksgiving, I was fortunate to receive a copy of Longevity Hubs: Regional Innovation for Global Aging (published by MIT Press) directly from two authors and mentors, Dr. Joseph F. Coughlin and Luke Yoquinto, at MIT AgeLab. The book delves into a wide range of topics, including aging well, workforce engagement, transportation, innovation, caregiving, finances, research and development, housing, health, and living laboratories.
The concept of a “longevity hub” captivated me as a designer. The authors define it as “any hotspot characterized by a disproportionate level of innovative activity aimed at the older population and related markets.” This notion reminded me of the term “glocal,” a blend of “global” and “local.” Glocal innovation retains a region’s unique characteristics while holding the potential to expand globally. It feels like constructing multiple unique sub-systems to address the complex challenges of longevity-related issues or systems.
Coughlin and Yoquinto emphasize how regional innovation can significantly enhance local quality of life without necessarily scaling solutions for global aging markets. Instead, the focus shifts to cultivating expertise in developing scalable, exportable products and services while prioritizing local quality of life (P276).
Emerging longevity needs encompass not only health and wealth but also social and mental well-being. The UAE’s National Program, launched in 2016, exemplifies this holistic approach by emphasizing happiness and well-being to promote active aging lifestyles (P136).
The demographic transformation brought about by aging populations has enabled regions and countries to adopt innovative policies, social infrastructure, and systems to tackle these challenges (P185). This notion offers opportunities to address, solve, and refine the socio-economic and technological complexities associated with aging.
I was particularly intrigued by the discussion of the tech-enabled distributed economy (P165). For example, Japan has developed a sophisticated sharing economy structured around five categories: goods, space, mobility, skills, and money, preparing the nation to embrace a super-aging society (P167).
Well-known international platforms like Airbnb, Uber, Spacemarket, and Gengo illustrate how sharing services can foster age-friendly innovation and economic activity, breaking away from traditional business models and evolving from linear and circular economics to longevity and sharing economies.

The Impact of a PhD on Design Practice
November 23, 2024
Spending a quiet weekend before the holidays has been a fantastic way to rest and ease into the season. I had the pleasure of diving into Professor Laurene Vaughan’s latest book, The Impact of a PhD on Design Practice (published by Bloomsbury), and finished it within two days—perhaps because I’m at the early stages of my own academic journey, making its insights deeply resonant.
The book weaves together compelling stories and conversations with six designers—Emma Jefferies, Daria Loi, Chris Marmo, Dimeji Onafuwa, Andrea Siodmok, and Reuben Stanton—who pursued their PhDs in design. Their experiences celebrate the transformative journey of undertaking a research degree.
One idea that stood out to me was Professor Vaughan’s explanation of the PhD (P54): “The PhD is the most advanced research-training degree, so it’s about the competencies or the transferable knowledge, the capacity to do critical thinking, to design research studies, develop methods and understand ethics and the implications in projects.” This perspective of “intellectual humanity (P38)” underscores the profound personal growth inherent in the process.
I was particularly inspired by the discussion on “self-leadership” (P149). She eloquently described how research challenges us to discover this quality as scholars and PhD researchers. While the journey can feel lonely, isolating, and challenging, Dimeji highlighted the importance of a vibrant and connected community to support and sustain us through these trials (P64). Emma shared another invaluable insight: recognizing and respecting the evolving nature of our experiences and how we can guide one another by asking questions and understanding these shifts (P36). This resonated with Daria’s sentiment about fostering care and support: "I want to give back the good things that I received when I was a student (P88).”
Daria also offered a compelling perspective on identity, acknowledging that she doesn’t see herself as entirely aligned with either industry or academia, reflecting a balance many of us strive for (P89). This idea connects to what Professor Vaughan calls the “doctoral moment”—the point when we realize, “I know what I don’t know, and I know how I could realize it” (P55). It’s a sentiment that resonates beyond academia and applies to the challenges of work and life where we act as our own bosses, project managers, or principal investigators (PI), taking full responsibility for our decisions and actions.
By the end of the book, she provided a treasure trove of suggested readings (P165), organized into four categories: design leadership, doctoral education, creative practice and research, and design knowledge/expertise. This curated list is invaluable for anyone navigating the intersection of design and research. The book left me inspired and reflective, offering insights into the design academic journey and the broader challenges of leadership, self-discovery, and intellectual growth.
Spending a quiet weekend before the holidays has been a fantastic way to rest and ease into the season. I had the pleasure of diving into Professor Laurene Vaughan’s latest book, The Impact of a PhD on Design Practice (published by Bloomsbury), and finished it within two days—perhaps because I’m at the early stages of my own academic journey, making its insights deeply resonant.
The book weaves together compelling stories and conversations with six designers—Emma Jefferies, Daria Loi, Chris Marmo, Dimeji Onafuwa, Andrea Siodmok, and Reuben Stanton—who pursued their PhDs in design. Their experiences celebrate the transformative journey of undertaking a research degree.
One idea that stood out to me was Professor Vaughan’s explanation of the PhD (P54): “The PhD is the most advanced research-training degree, so it’s about the competencies or the transferable knowledge, the capacity to do critical thinking, to design research studies, develop methods and understand ethics and the implications in projects.” This perspective of “intellectual humanity (P38)” underscores the profound personal growth inherent in the process.
I was particularly inspired by the discussion on “self-leadership” (P149). She eloquently described how research challenges us to discover this quality as scholars and PhD researchers. While the journey can feel lonely, isolating, and challenging, Dimeji highlighted the importance of a vibrant and connected community to support and sustain us through these trials (P64). Emma shared another invaluable insight: recognizing and respecting the evolving nature of our experiences and how we can guide one another by asking questions and understanding these shifts (P36). This resonated with Daria’s sentiment about fostering care and support: "I want to give back the good things that I received when I was a student (P88).”
Daria also offered a compelling perspective on identity, acknowledging that she doesn’t see herself as entirely aligned with either industry or academia, reflecting a balance many of us strive for (P89). This idea connects to what Professor Vaughan calls the “doctoral moment”—the point when we realize, “I know what I don’t know, and I know how I could realize it” (P55). It’s a sentiment that resonates beyond academia and applies to the challenges of work and life where we act as our own bosses, project managers, or principal investigators (PI), taking full responsibility for our decisions and actions.
By the end of the book, she provided a treasure trove of suggested readings (P165), organized into four categories: design leadership, doctoral education, creative practice and research, and design knowledge/expertise. This curated list is invaluable for anyone navigating the intersection of design and research. The book left me inspired and reflective, offering insights into the design academic journey and the broader challenges of leadership, self-discovery, and intellectual growth.

Hello Chaos, A Love Story: The disorder of Seeing and Being Seen
November 19, 2024
Life hasn’t changed much, especially in the middle of the semester. Job applications, waiting for journal reviews, book writing, crafting conference papers before deadlines, giving lab tours, and the never-ending cycle of reading and emailing fill the days. I’m fortunate to experience the academic lifestyle at MIT without worrying too much about health or finances.
Two weeks ago, I purchased Hello Chaos, a Love Story: The Disorder of Seeing and Being Seen by Charlie Engman (published by MACK BOOKS) at the Ulises book exhibition at The School of the Museum of Fine Arts (SMFA) at Tufts University in Boston.
Engman’s comparison of Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse is both intriguing and thought-provoking. Kitty, as described, is as tall as five apples and weighs as much as three (P7). Born in 1974 in Japan (P14), she is a silent figure with no mouse counterpart. In contrast, Mickey is ever-present, self-satisfied, and free from existential crises (P52). Kitty and Mickey represent a clash of opposites: Kitty, a cat from the East, and Mickey, a mouse from the West. Together, they form a perfect metaphor for the cat-and-mouse narrative that introduces the book’s broader themes.
As Kitty and Mickey navigate the chaotic interplay of imagery, emergent technology, and mass production, Engman delved into the contradictions of contemporary visual culture and inexplicit or subtle behavior. Through this experimental narrative, the book seeks deeper meanings within creativity, identity, culture, and self-expression.
This portable, visually rich book feels like reading a fieldwork note from an experienced ethnographer. Its chaos is deliberately curated, creating a unique reading experience that mirrors the sensory overload of modern life. As Engman writes in the book intro: “Extensively illustrated with a wide range of images both original and found, this book attempts to tackle the beautiful, horny, horrible vulnerability of looking and being perceived.”
Life hasn’t changed much, especially in the middle of the semester. Job applications, waiting for journal reviews, book writing, crafting conference papers before deadlines, giving lab tours, and the never-ending cycle of reading and emailing fill the days. I’m fortunate to experience the academic lifestyle at MIT without worrying too much about health or finances.
Two weeks ago, I purchased Hello Chaos, a Love Story: The Disorder of Seeing and Being Seen by Charlie Engman (published by MACK BOOKS) at the Ulises book exhibition at The School of the Museum of Fine Arts (SMFA) at Tufts University in Boston.
Engman’s comparison of Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse is both intriguing and thought-provoking. Kitty, as described, is as tall as five apples and weighs as much as three (P7). Born in 1974 in Japan (P14), she is a silent figure with no mouse counterpart. In contrast, Mickey is ever-present, self-satisfied, and free from existential crises (P52). Kitty and Mickey represent a clash of opposites: Kitty, a cat from the East, and Mickey, a mouse from the West. Together, they form a perfect metaphor for the cat-and-mouse narrative that introduces the book’s broader themes.
As Kitty and Mickey navigate the chaotic interplay of imagery, emergent technology, and mass production, Engman delved into the contradictions of contemporary visual culture and inexplicit or subtle behavior. Through this experimental narrative, the book seeks deeper meanings within creativity, identity, culture, and self-expression.
This portable, visually rich book feels like reading a fieldwork note from an experienced ethnographer. Its chaos is deliberately curated, creating a unique reading experience that mirrors the sensory overload of modern life. As Engman writes in the book intro: “Extensively illustrated with a wide range of images both original and found, this book attempts to tackle the beautiful, horny, horrible vulnerability of looking and being perceived.”

Sparking Creativity: How Play and Humor Fuel Innovation and Design
November 15, 2024
I was honored to be invited by Prof. Barry Kudrowitz, Professor of Product Design and Head of the Department of Design Innovation at The College of Design, University of Minnesota, to give a talk on designing for longevity and my creative practice and academic research over recent years with MIT AgeLab and MIT Ideation Lab. It was also a pleasure to meet Dean and Prof. Prasad Boradkar, Prof. Tejas Dhadphale, Prof. Carlye Lauff, and Prof. Sara Pedersen to discuss design research, education, and creative learning.
Most importantly, I had the opportunity to read Prof. Kudrowitz’s latest book, Sparking Creativity: How Play and Humor Fuel Innovation and Design. It reminded me that, as design educators, we must continually ask ourselves if we inadvertently educate people out of their creative potential (Robinson, 2006).
The book explores how play and humor fuel innovation by presenting real case studies from industries across product design, architecture, and services combined with conceptual and experimental frameworks from academics. For example, it introduces the Captain Creativity framework, which includes knowledge, motivation, creative mindset, and environment (P52). Kudrowitz and Wallace (2009) also proposed the Play Pyramid taxonomy of four types of play: challenge, fantasy, sensory, and creation (P127). This framework can effectively help us identify and create various types of play experiences we aim to design.
Prof. Barry also used literature reviews, historical events, and personal stories to illustrate the concepts of play, creativity, and design. Play can be interpreted as a state of mind and flow (P125) and as the freedom of movement within a given set of constraints (P119). Creativity is about making non-obvious connections between seemingly unrelated things (P20). Design is a mixed and interactive process of convergent and divergent thinking, designing, making, and refinding (P25).
Clearly, play, creativity, and design are integral ingredients for radical innovation. Radical innovation involves transforming long-standing approaches, practices, and stereotypes, as people are naturally creatures of habit and tradition (P78).
I was honored to be invited by Prof. Barry Kudrowitz, Professor of Product Design and Head of the Department of Design Innovation at The College of Design, University of Minnesota, to give a talk on designing for longevity and my creative practice and academic research over recent years with MIT AgeLab and MIT Ideation Lab. It was also a pleasure to meet Dean and Prof. Prasad Boradkar, Prof. Tejas Dhadphale, Prof. Carlye Lauff, and Prof. Sara Pedersen to discuss design research, education, and creative learning.
Most importantly, I had the opportunity to read Prof. Kudrowitz’s latest book, Sparking Creativity: How Play and Humor Fuel Innovation and Design. It reminded me that, as design educators, we must continually ask ourselves if we inadvertently educate people out of their creative potential (Robinson, 2006).
The book explores how play and humor fuel innovation by presenting real case studies from industries across product design, architecture, and services combined with conceptual and experimental frameworks from academics. For example, it introduces the Captain Creativity framework, which includes knowledge, motivation, creative mindset, and environment (P52). Kudrowitz and Wallace (2009) also proposed the Play Pyramid taxonomy of four types of play: challenge, fantasy, sensory, and creation (P127). This framework can effectively help us identify and create various types of play experiences we aim to design.
Prof. Barry also used literature reviews, historical events, and personal stories to illustrate the concepts of play, creativity, and design. Play can be interpreted as a state of mind and flow (P125) and as the freedom of movement within a given set of constraints (P119). Creativity is about making non-obvious connections between seemingly unrelated things (P20). Design is a mixed and interactive process of convergent and divergent thinking, designing, making, and refinding (P25).
Clearly, play, creativity, and design are integral ingredients for radical innovation. Radical innovation involves transforming long-standing approaches, practices, and stereotypes, as people are naturally creatures of habit and tradition (P78).

Creating Breakthrough Products: Innovation from Product Planning to Program Approval
November 9, 2024
This book holds a special place for me.
I remember my final year of study in the Department of Industrial Design at National Cheng Kung University (NCKU) in 2012. I was enrolled in Prof. Alfred Lean-Foo Chen’s design management class, where our textbook was Creating Breakthrough Products by Prof. Jonathan M. Cagan and Prof. Craig M. Vogel (published by Prentice Hall). I bought a hard copy, but as a fresh design student, I couldn’t say I fully understood all the content.
I was drawn to the diagrams, which were valuable creative tools for my undergraduate thesis projects. For example, the user-centered design model integrates marketing, design, and engineering to frame user expectations and establish attributes through each discipline (P181). The negotiation of the design process (P149) was represented as a concentric circle that expanded to account for interest, rights, and power (Ury et al., 1988). The classic customer-driven product concept diagram (P141) illustrated the essence of Integrated New Product Design (iNPD) in contrast to traditional, discipline-specific product development models.
Now, after a decade of training, learning, setbacks, and experiences across industry, academia, and life, I am still passionately pursuing my path in design, aspiring to one day be a great and inspirational design leader. In 2023, I was honored to represent the IDSA Award Committee in presenting Prof. Craig M. Vogel with the IDSA Individual Achievement Award.
Design has broadened my world physically, spiritually, and culturally, and books have connected me with designers everywhere.
This book holds a special place for me.
I remember my final year of study in the Department of Industrial Design at National Cheng Kung University (NCKU) in 2012. I was enrolled in Prof. Alfred Lean-Foo Chen’s design management class, where our textbook was Creating Breakthrough Products by Prof. Jonathan M. Cagan and Prof. Craig M. Vogel (published by Prentice Hall). I bought a hard copy, but as a fresh design student, I couldn’t say I fully understood all the content.
I was drawn to the diagrams, which were valuable creative tools for my undergraduate thesis projects. For example, the user-centered design model integrates marketing, design, and engineering to frame user expectations and establish attributes through each discipline (P181). The negotiation of the design process (P149) was represented as a concentric circle that expanded to account for interest, rights, and power (Ury et al., 1988). The classic customer-driven product concept diagram (P141) illustrated the essence of Integrated New Product Design (iNPD) in contrast to traditional, discipline-specific product development models.
Now, after a decade of training, learning, setbacks, and experiences across industry, academia, and life, I am still passionately pursuing my path in design, aspiring to one day be a great and inspirational design leader. In 2023, I was honored to represent the IDSA Award Committee in presenting Prof. Craig M. Vogel with the IDSA Individual Achievement Award.
Design has broadened my world physically, spiritually, and culturally, and books have connected me with designers everywhere.

Selling the Invisible: A Field Guide to Modern Marketing
November 4, 2024
While working on the literature reviews to explore the notion of service engagement for my service design journal paper, I came across Selling the Invisible: A Field Guide to Modern Marketing by Harry Beckwith. Its compact size and accessible writing style made it a pleasure to read during fragmented moments, like on the metro or the morning reading with hot coffee. Beckwith's insights into service, marketing, and branding offered a fresh perspective.
Beckwith likens intangible services to human relationships (P239). The success of a service hinges on its connection with people. Customer satisfaction with service quality depends on the gap between what they expect and what value they receive (P217). One of the key challenges is making invisible services visible, relatable, touchable, and tangible so that users can resonate with them (P182). For instance, restaurants are not only about food; many are in the entertainment business, creating memorable experiences and “Instagrammable” moments for customers (P185).
Beckwith also suggests that building solid relationships is as crucial as expertise and product quality (P42). Behind most high-quality services lies an emphasis on human quality (P51). The real challenge is demonstrating and communicating service quality effectively to providers and customers (P174). A service is like a promise, and beyond fulfilling the functional aspects, we need to surprise customers by experimenting with imagination-driven ideas that add value (P19). Ultimately, we are providing services as selling the promise that, in the future, customers will benefit from and co-create value from, in, and with services (P175).
While working on the literature reviews to explore the notion of service engagement for my service design journal paper, I came across Selling the Invisible: A Field Guide to Modern Marketing by Harry Beckwith. Its compact size and accessible writing style made it a pleasure to read during fragmented moments, like on the metro or the morning reading with hot coffee. Beckwith's insights into service, marketing, and branding offered a fresh perspective.
Beckwith likens intangible services to human relationships (P239). The success of a service hinges on its connection with people. Customer satisfaction with service quality depends on the gap between what they expect and what value they receive (P217). One of the key challenges is making invisible services visible, relatable, touchable, and tangible so that users can resonate with them (P182). For instance, restaurants are not only about food; many are in the entertainment business, creating memorable experiences and “Instagrammable” moments for customers (P185).
Beckwith also suggests that building solid relationships is as crucial as expertise and product quality (P42). Behind most high-quality services lies an emphasis on human quality (P51). The real challenge is demonstrating and communicating service quality effectively to providers and customers (P174). A service is like a promise, and beyond fulfilling the functional aspects, we need to surprise customers by experimenting with imagination-driven ideas that add value (P19). Ultimately, we are providing services as selling the promise that, in the future, customers will benefit from and co-create value from, in, and with services (P175).

Design-Driven Innovation: Changing the Rules of Competition by Radically Innovating What Things Mean
October 27, 2024
Last week, while navigating academic job applications and preparing for a trip to New York for the award ceremony, I found some time to immerse myself in and finish reading Design-Driven Innovation: Changing the Rules of Competition by Radically Innovating What Things Mean by Prof. Roberto Verganti (published by Harvard Business Review).
Verganti explained design-driven innovation as a strategy for radical change through the transformation of product meanings, navigating between market pull (user-centered), technology push, and design-driven approaches (P5). He proposed an innovation framework that balances performance (function and technology) with meaning (product sense and language) to drive significant improvement through the generation of new meanings (P45). The book is rich with diagrams and visuals that make these complex concepts accessible, supported by industrial case studies and rigorous research from sectors like automobiles (FIAT Panda), design brands (Alessi), and appliances (Philips Design).
I particularly enjoyed his discussion on product longevity (P97). Verganti highlighted the FIAT Panda as an example of a long-lived product, emphasizing design's role in creating lasting impact. For instance, Bang & Olufsen products have an average life cycle of twenty years, compared to eight years for competitors. Alessi's iconic designs, such as the Kettle 9093 (1985) and Philippe Starck's Juicy Salif citrus squeezer (1990), further illustrate this principle (P99).
Verganti posed an intriguing question: How can we balance functional value and meaningful value to design products that endure (P106)? He challenged us to consider how we might transform a utilitarian object, like a corkscrew, into an object of affection (P109). Many of the challenges of product longevity stem from the transition in lifestyle (P111)—how do we reconfigure the “value network” and “relational assets (P204)” to generate novel and meaningful interpretations of products in collaboration with users or even designers for the early stage of product development?
When discussing product longevity, we often focus on a product’s life cycle—the longer it lasts, the greater its perceived value. But if the product mirrors our lives, what other key aspects should we consider creating something holistic, respectful, and mindful over time?
Last week, while navigating academic job applications and preparing for a trip to New York for the award ceremony, I found some time to immerse myself in and finish reading Design-Driven Innovation: Changing the Rules of Competition by Radically Innovating What Things Mean by Prof. Roberto Verganti (published by Harvard Business Review).
Verganti explained design-driven innovation as a strategy for radical change through the transformation of product meanings, navigating between market pull (user-centered), technology push, and design-driven approaches (P5). He proposed an innovation framework that balances performance (function and technology) with meaning (product sense and language) to drive significant improvement through the generation of new meanings (P45). The book is rich with diagrams and visuals that make these complex concepts accessible, supported by industrial case studies and rigorous research from sectors like automobiles (FIAT Panda), design brands (Alessi), and appliances (Philips Design).
I particularly enjoyed his discussion on product longevity (P97). Verganti highlighted the FIAT Panda as an example of a long-lived product, emphasizing design's role in creating lasting impact. For instance, Bang & Olufsen products have an average life cycle of twenty years, compared to eight years for competitors. Alessi's iconic designs, such as the Kettle 9093 (1985) and Philippe Starck's Juicy Salif citrus squeezer (1990), further illustrate this principle (P99).
Verganti posed an intriguing question: How can we balance functional value and meaningful value to design products that endure (P106)? He challenged us to consider how we might transform a utilitarian object, like a corkscrew, into an object of affection (P109). Many of the challenges of product longevity stem from the transition in lifestyle (P111)—how do we reconfigure the “value network” and “relational assets (P204)” to generate novel and meaningful interpretations of products in collaboration with users or even designers for the early stage of product development?
When discussing product longevity, we often focus on a product’s life cycle—the longer it lasts, the greater its perceived value. But if the product mirrors our lives, what other key aspects should we consider creating something holistic, respectful, and mindful over time?

On Ethnography
October 17, 2024
After working overnight drafting a journal paper for Design Science, I was in the mood for something calming yet intellectually engaging. On Ethnography by Sarah Daynes and Terry Williams caught my eye on my tiny bookshelf. I bought it two years ago as a reference for a graduate course but never quite got around to reading it.
I’ve always enjoyed design research, and the authors' thinking about research design as a thought process resonated with me (P38). While design research and ethnography differ, there are areas of overlap. The authors encourage readers to see ethnography as a multi-voiced practice applicable to many fields (P36). Their key advice for budding ethnographers is simple and profound: go into the field (P17) and talk to people (P142). Fieldwork, in particular, is about asking questions that lead us in unexpected directions (P145).
Hylan Lewis stressed the importance of “being there,” such as engaging with people, experiencing the environment, taking notes, and writing things down (P141). Immersing oneself in everyday life is central to contemporary ethnography, echoing traditions from both social anthropology and the Chicago School of sociology (P33).
I found the authors’ discussion on levels of comprehension especially insightful: seeing, observing, narrating, writing, and learning (P113, P131). The aim is to transform raw data into meaning-infused data (P34). There’s a fascinating ambiguity in data analysis. Ethnographers often begin analyzing the moment they enter the field (P144). It’s a continuous process, more intuitive than formulaic, that keeps the journey of inquiry alive. Ethnography thrives on the interplay between storytelling and science, balancing these two approaches to help us uncover deeper insights from meaning-infused data (P153).
After working overnight drafting a journal paper for Design Science, I was in the mood for something calming yet intellectually engaging. On Ethnography by Sarah Daynes and Terry Williams caught my eye on my tiny bookshelf. I bought it two years ago as a reference for a graduate course but never quite got around to reading it.
I’ve always enjoyed design research, and the authors' thinking about research design as a thought process resonated with me (P38). While design research and ethnography differ, there are areas of overlap. The authors encourage readers to see ethnography as a multi-voiced practice applicable to many fields (P36). Their key advice for budding ethnographers is simple and profound: go into the field (P17) and talk to people (P142). Fieldwork, in particular, is about asking questions that lead us in unexpected directions (P145).
Hylan Lewis stressed the importance of “being there,” such as engaging with people, experiencing the environment, taking notes, and writing things down (P141). Immersing oneself in everyday life is central to contemporary ethnography, echoing traditions from both social anthropology and the Chicago School of sociology (P33).
I found the authors’ discussion on levels of comprehension especially insightful: seeing, observing, narrating, writing, and learning (P113, P131). The aim is to transform raw data into meaning-infused data (P34). There’s a fascinating ambiguity in data analysis. Ethnographers often begin analyzing the moment they enter the field (P144). It’s a continuous process, more intuitive than formulaic, that keeps the journey of inquiry alive. Ethnography thrives on the interplay between storytelling and science, balancing these two approaches to help us uncover deeper insights from meaning-infused data (P153).

The Service Innovation Handbook: Action-oriented Creative Thinking Toolkit for Service Organizations
October 12, 2024
I am currently crafting a journal paper exploring how statistics can be applied to study service quality and uncover users’ latent needs. A valuable resource in this process has been Prof. Lucy Kimbell’s The Service Innovation Handbook, which I purchased last January. Despite being published a decade ago, the book offers relevant and insightful theoretical concepts, case studies, and worksheets for designers.
Kimbell adopts Hatchuel and Weil’s (2009) C-K design theory to structure the book, illustrating the relationship between concept (C), knowledge (K), and perspectives from both organizations and users (P16). Her framework on the five fundamental shifts in shaping service innovation capabilities is beneficial for planning and preparing new service designs (P47). This framework helps service designers better understand and translate the current ecosystem (the as-is) into a new one (the to-be) with a more holistic aspect (P59).
It encompasses shifts such as from “normal science” to “post-normal science” from “top-down strategy” to “wayfinding strategy,” from “value chains” to “value constellations,” from “value-in-exchange” to “value-in-use,” and from “doing things for and to” to “doing things with.” Additionally, the AEIOU framework (Wasson, 2000) provides a useful method for evaluating the five elements of service experience (P76): action (A), environments (E), interactions (I), objects (O), and users (U).
I’m also intrigued by the dual lenses—behavioral and socio-cultural—through which data can be investigated. While a behavioral approach considers individuals as existing within a given context, the sociocultural approach sees them as active co-constructors of that context (P72). This dual perspective aligns with the contrast between big data and thick data (P103). Big data relies on algorithms to offer detailed, reliable insights, while thick data focuses on collective interpretation to create a comprehensive view, emphasizing credibility and transferability.
After this intellectual journey through Kimbell’s work, particularly her afterword (P231), I feel small in front of the vastness of the knowledge she presents. It’s a reminder to stay both humble and hungry in the pursuit of learning.
I am currently crafting a journal paper exploring how statistics can be applied to study service quality and uncover users’ latent needs. A valuable resource in this process has been Prof. Lucy Kimbell’s The Service Innovation Handbook, which I purchased last January. Despite being published a decade ago, the book offers relevant and insightful theoretical concepts, case studies, and worksheets for designers.
Kimbell adopts Hatchuel and Weil’s (2009) C-K design theory to structure the book, illustrating the relationship between concept (C), knowledge (K), and perspectives from both organizations and users (P16). Her framework on the five fundamental shifts in shaping service innovation capabilities is beneficial for planning and preparing new service designs (P47). This framework helps service designers better understand and translate the current ecosystem (the as-is) into a new one (the to-be) with a more holistic aspect (P59).
It encompasses shifts such as from “normal science” to “post-normal science” from “top-down strategy” to “wayfinding strategy,” from “value chains” to “value constellations,” from “value-in-exchange” to “value-in-use,” and from “doing things for and to” to “doing things with.” Additionally, the AEIOU framework (Wasson, 2000) provides a useful method for evaluating the five elements of service experience (P76): action (A), environments (E), interactions (I), objects (O), and users (U).
I’m also intrigued by the dual lenses—behavioral and socio-cultural—through which data can be investigated. While a behavioral approach considers individuals as existing within a given context, the sociocultural approach sees them as active co-constructors of that context (P72). This dual perspective aligns with the contrast between big data and thick data (P103). Big data relies on algorithms to offer detailed, reliable insights, while thick data focuses on collective interpretation to create a comprehensive view, emphasizing credibility and transferability.
After this intellectual journey through Kimbell’s work, particularly her afterword (P231), I feel small in front of the vastness of the knowledge she presents. It’s a reminder to stay both humble and hungry in the pursuit of learning.

Swedish Design: An Ethnography
October 1, 2024
In September 2022, I purchased Swedish Design: An Ethnography by Prof. Keith M. Murphy (published by Cornell University Press), as Prof. Graham M. Jones recommended in his class, 21A.819 Ethnographic Research Methods, at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I didn’t finish the book initially, but last week, I finally had a few peaceful mornings and evenings to delve into the social meaning of objects and the politics of design through the perspective of a linguistic anthropologist.
I appreciate Murphy’s view of design as an anthropological subject of inquiry (P3). He utilized discourse analytic methods to examine a wide range of design-related media, including publications, design books, museum exhibits, store catalogs, television sources, and interview material (P11).
As an anthropologist, he interprets design as a form of spoken and embodied language, reflecting experiences and services (P204). He asserts, “Language is not simply a means of representing ideas, things, and feelings in socially shareable forms, but also deeply constitutive of various cultural activities that collectively shape lived reality” (P12).
In Sweden, the basic elements of design—point, line, and plane—have been transformed into critical vectors of cultural value (P45), mirroring the society’s investment in preserving design as a system of reified cultural values (P214).
Design, according to Murphy, is intended to provide impersonal, external care in our everyday lives (P215). Moreover, designing a social cosmology (P206) can begin by redefining the design objects. Objects can be comprehended as being ordered through compartmentalized displays and arrangements, based on criteria such as time, material, function, or producer (P204).
This book is an ethnographic study of Swedish design. It reflects Murphy’s desire to understand designing from the designer’s views (P11) while exploring the connections between people, objects, and politics (P2). He challenges the reader with questions such as, “How are things designed to be political?” and “How are things made to mean?”—echoing Langdon Winner’s famous query (1980): “Do artifacts have politics?”
In September 2022, I purchased Swedish Design: An Ethnography by Prof. Keith M. Murphy (published by Cornell University Press), as Prof. Graham M. Jones recommended in his class, 21A.819 Ethnographic Research Methods, at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I didn’t finish the book initially, but last week, I finally had a few peaceful mornings and evenings to delve into the social meaning of objects and the politics of design through the perspective of a linguistic anthropologist.
I appreciate Murphy’s view of design as an anthropological subject of inquiry (P3). He utilized discourse analytic methods to examine a wide range of design-related media, including publications, design books, museum exhibits, store catalogs, television sources, and interview material (P11).
As an anthropologist, he interprets design as a form of spoken and embodied language, reflecting experiences and services (P204). He asserts, “Language is not simply a means of representing ideas, things, and feelings in socially shareable forms, but also deeply constitutive of various cultural activities that collectively shape lived reality” (P12).
In Sweden, the basic elements of design—point, line, and plane—have been transformed into critical vectors of cultural value (P45), mirroring the society’s investment in preserving design as a system of reified cultural values (P214).
Design, according to Murphy, is intended to provide impersonal, external care in our everyday lives (P215). Moreover, designing a social cosmology (P206) can begin by redefining the design objects. Objects can be comprehended as being ordered through compartmentalized displays and arrangements, based on criteria such as time, material, function, or producer (P204).
This book is an ethnographic study of Swedish design. It reflects Murphy’s desire to understand designing from the designer’s views (P11) while exploring the connections between people, objects, and politics (P2). He challenges the reader with questions such as, “How are things designed to be political?” and “How are things made to mean?”—echoing Langdon Winner’s famous query (1980): “Do artifacts have politics?”

Design in Context: A Framework for Strategic Differentiation
September 22, 2024
By the end of July, I was pleasantly surprised to receive Todd Bracher’s latest book, Design in Context: A Framework for Strategic Differentiation. Amidst the chaos of data analysis and synthesis, I set aside a weekend morning with a cup of coffee and a warm almond croissant to immerse myself in Todd’s design journey.
Bracher skillfully demystifies design by stripping away abstraction (P164), illustrating his philosophy through practical experiences and insights. While we often view design as poetic, human-centered, and beautiful (P156), Bracher, along with voices like Michael Bierut, reminds us that frustration can also be a powerful driver of innovation (P161).
The concept of "design in context” emerges as an approach that considers multiple factors influencing the desired outcomes (P250). Although the design process may seem opaque to many, the elegance of design reveals itself when every detail serves a purpose, creating harmony between form and function (P130). Mickey Beyer-Clausen offers a simple yet effective metric to measure design’s impact: “You know a product is working when people are talking about it and sharing it with friends and colleagues” (P180).
I found myself particularly inspired by Bracher’s principle of “nothing extra, nothing less” (P64), which aligns closely with Taku Satoh’s “hodo-hodo” or “just enough” design philosophy. This idea of minimalist honesty in design fosters transparency (P158) and enhances the experience for users, consumers, clients, and designers alike. Furthermore, design should be translatable, relatable, understandable, and open to questioning (P221).
In today’s landscape of systemic social, technological, and economic challenges, the definition of design has evolved into a context-driven, system-level strategy (P207) with a focus on effective execution (P202). A good designer distills, translates, refines, and simplifies complex information, ultimately transforming it into a relevant, intuitive product experience for, with, and by people (P185).
By the end of July, I was pleasantly surprised to receive Todd Bracher’s latest book, Design in Context: A Framework for Strategic Differentiation. Amidst the chaos of data analysis and synthesis, I set aside a weekend morning with a cup of coffee and a warm almond croissant to immerse myself in Todd’s design journey.
Bracher skillfully demystifies design by stripping away abstraction (P164), illustrating his philosophy through practical experiences and insights. While we often view design as poetic, human-centered, and beautiful (P156), Bracher, along with voices like Michael Bierut, reminds us that frustration can also be a powerful driver of innovation (P161).
The concept of "design in context” emerges as an approach that considers multiple factors influencing the desired outcomes (P250). Although the design process may seem opaque to many, the elegance of design reveals itself when every detail serves a purpose, creating harmony between form and function (P130). Mickey Beyer-Clausen offers a simple yet effective metric to measure design’s impact: “You know a product is working when people are talking about it and sharing it with friends and colleagues” (P180).
I found myself particularly inspired by Bracher’s principle of “nothing extra, nothing less” (P64), which aligns closely with Taku Satoh’s “hodo-hodo” or “just enough” design philosophy. This idea of minimalist honesty in design fosters transparency (P158) and enhances the experience for users, consumers, clients, and designers alike. Furthermore, design should be translatable, relatable, understandable, and open to questioning (P221).
In today’s landscape of systemic social, technological, and economic challenges, the definition of design has evolved into a context-driven, system-level strategy (P207) with a focus on effective execution (P202). A good designer distills, translates, refines, and simplifies complex information, ultimately transforming it into a relevant, intuitive product experience for, with, and by people (P185).
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