图片 1扫描关注少儿英语微信

作者:Tim Brown
出版社:HarperBusiness
副标题:How Design Thinking Transforms Organizations and Inspires
Innovation
发行时间:2009年9月29日
来源:下载的 epub 版本

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一年前参加 GDG 的活动,第一次了解到 Design
Thinking,对这个概念一直朦朦胧胧的,作者 Tim Brown 是 IDEO 的现任
CEO,把 Design Thinking
的概念做了系统的梳理,非常的流畅,书的质量很高,所以经得起近10年的考验,难得的好书

图片 2四个好方法让你的创造力源源不断

Design Thinking 的三个均衡点:desirability(可消费),
feasibility(使用性),
viability(可行性),最适合的创新是在自己熟悉的市场,面对自己熟悉的用户群展开的,颠覆式创新往往因为没有这两个基础,所以特别有挑战

Innovation. It’s easy to talk about it — it’s probably one of your
department’s key goals or built into your company’s mission statement —
but it’s not so easy to do. It’s even harder to make it a habit in your
day-to-day workflow. As an innovation consultant and entrepreneur, I was
recently given a sneak peek at a new book on innovation calledA
Beautiful Constraint. In short, it teaches you to take your constraints
— budget, time, resources, whatever — and make them work for you in your
quest for innovation. It sounds simple, and in many ways it is.
Electrified by the read and brimming with inspiration for the new year
ahead, I’m suggesting four easy ways to up your innovation
game。创新。谈论一下倒是挺容易的,也许就是部门目标之一或公司的任务计划,但实行起来一点都不容易呀。甚至还比把它成为你每天的习惯更困难。作为一名创新咨询师和企业家,笔者最近看了一本书名为A
Beautiful
Constraint。简而言之,这本书教导人们如何约束自己——包括预算,时间,资源,等等,并让它们在你需要创新的时候起作用。听起来很简单,不过在很多方面也的确很简单。受到了本次阅读的灵感触动,笔者建议这4种让你产生创造力的方法。

摘录:

What we need is an approach to innovation that is powerful, effective,
and broadly accessible, that can be integrated into all aspects of
business and society, and that individuals and teams can use to generate
breakthrough ideas that are implemented and that therefore have an
impact. Design thinking, the subject of this book, offers just such an
approach.
Design thinking begins with skills designers have learned over many
decades in their quest to match human needs with available technical
resources within the practical constraints of business. By integrating
what is desirable from a human point of view with what is
technologically feasible and economically viable, designers have been
able to create the products we enjoy today. Design thinking takes the
next step, which is to put these tools into the hands of people who may
have never thought of themselves as designers and apply them to a vastly
greater range of problems.
Design thinking taps into capacities we all have but that are overlooked
by more conventional problem-solving practices. It is not only
human-centered; it is deeply human in and of itself. Design thinking
relies on our ability to be intuitive, to recognize patterns, to
construct ideas that have emotional meaning as well as functionality, to
express ourselves in media other than words or symbols. Nobody wants to
run a business based on feeling, intuition, and inspiration, but an
overreliance on the rational and the analytical can be just as
dangerous. The integrated approach at the core of the design process
suggests a “third way.”

The very first products I designed as a design professional were for a
venerable English machinery manufacturer called Wadkin Bursgreen. The
people there invited a young and untested industrial designer into their
midst to help improve their professional woodworking machines. I spent a
summer creating drawings and models of circular saws that were better
looking and spindle molders that were easier to use. I think I did a
pretty good job, and it’s still possible to find my work in factories
thirty years later. But you will no longer find the Wadkin Bursgreen
company, which has long since gone out of business. As a designer I
didn’t see that it was the future of the woodworking industry that was
in question, not the design of its machines.
Only gradually did I come to see the power of design not as a link in a
chain but as the hub of a wheel. When I left the protected world of art
school—where everyone looked the same, acted the same, and spoke the
same language—and entered the world of business, I had to spend far more
time trying to explain to my clients what design was than actually doing
it. I realized that I was approaching the world from a set of operating
principles that was different from theirs. The resulting confusion was
getting in the way of my creativity and productivity.
I also noticed that the people who inspired me were not necessarily
members of the design profession: engineers such as Isambard Kingdom
Brunel, Thomas Edison, and Ferdinand Porsche, all of whom seemed to have
a human-centered rather than technology-centered worldview; behavioral
scientists such as Don Norman, who asked why products are so needlessly
confusing; artists such as Andy Goldsworthy and Antony Gormley, who
seemed to engage their viewers in an experience that made them part of
the artwork; business leaders such as Steve Jobs and Akio Morita, who
were creating unique and meaningful products. I realized that behind the
soaring rhetoric of “genius” and “visionary” was a basic commitment to
the principles of design thinking.
A few years ago, during one of the periodic booms and busts that are
part of business as usual in Silicon Valley, my colleagues and I were
struggling to figure how to keep my company, IDEO, meaningful and useful
in the world. There was plenty of interest in our design services, but
we also noticed that we were increasingly being asked to tackle problems
that seemed very far away from the commonly held view of design. A
health care foundation was asking us to help restructure its
organization; a century-old manufacturing company was asking us to help
it better understand its clients; an elite university was asking us to
think about alternative learning environments. We were being pulled out
of our comfort zone, but this was exciting because it opened up new
possibilities for us to have more impact in the world.
We started to talk about this expanded field as “design with a small d”
in an attempt to move beyond the sculptural objet displayed in lifestyle
magazines or on pedestals in museums of modern art. But this phrase
never seemed fully satisfactory. One day I was chatting with my friend
David Kelley, a Stanford professor and the founder of IDEO, and he
remarked that every time someone came to ask him about design, he found
himself inserting the word “thinking” to explain what it was that
designers do. The term “design thinking” stuck. I now use it as a way of
describing a set of principles that can be applied by diverse people to
a wide range of problems. I have become a convert and an evangelist of
design thinking.

Change by Design is divided into two parts. The first is a journey
through some of the important stages of design thinking. It is not
intended as a “how-to” guide, for ultimately these are skills best
acquired through doing. What I hope to do is to provide a framework that
will help the reader identify the principles and practices that make for
great design thinking. As I suggest in chapter 6, design thinking
flourishes in a rich culture of storytelling, and in that spirit I will
explore many of these ideas by telling stories drawn from IDEO and other
companies and organizations.
The first part of the book focuses on design thinking as applied to
business. Along the way we will see how it has been practiced by some of
the most innovative companies in the world, how it has inspired
breakthrough solutions, and where, on occasion, it has overreached (any
business book that claims an unbroken record of success belongs on the
“fiction” shelf). Part two is intended as a challenge for all of us to
Think Big. By looking at three broad domains of human activity—business,
markets, and society—I hope to show how design thinking can be extended
in new ways to create ideas that are equal to the challenges we all
face. If you are managing a hotel, design thinking can help you to
rethink the very nature of hospitality. If you are working with a
philanthropic agency, design thinking can help you grasp the needs of
the people you are trying to serve. If you are a venture capitalist,
design thinking can help you peer into the future.

The risk of such an iterative approach is that it appears to extend the
time it takes to get an idea to market, but this is often a shortsighted
perception. To the contrary, a team that understands what is happening
will not feel bound to take the next logical step along an ultimately
unproductive path. We have seen many projects killed by management
because it became clear that the ideas were not good enough. When a
project is terminated after months or even years, it can be devastating
in terms of both money and morale. A nimble team of design thinkers will
have been prototyping from day one and self-correcting along the way.
As we say at IDEO, “Fail early to succeed sooner.”

A second way to think about the overlapping spaces of innovation is in
terms of boundaries. To an artist in pursuit of beauty or a scientist in
search of truth, the bounds of a project may appear as unwelcome
constraints. But the mark of a designer, as the legendary Charles Eames
said often, is a willing embrace of constraints.
Without constraints design cannot happen, and the best design—a
precision medical device or emergency shelter for disaster victims—is
often carried out within quite severe constraints. For less extreme
cases we need only look at Target’s success in bringing design within
the reach of a broader population for significantly less cost than had
previously been achieved. It is actually much more difficult for an
accomplished designer such as Michael Graves to create a collection of
low-cost kitchen implements or Isaac Mizrahi a line of ready-to-wear
clothing than it is to design a teakettle that will sell in a museum
store for hundreds of dollars or a dress that will sell in a boutique
for thousands.
The willing and even enthusiastic acceptance of competing constraints is
the foundation of design thinking. The first stage of the design process
is often about discovering which constraints are important and
establishing a framework for evaluating them. Constraints can best be
visualized in terms of three overlapping criteria for successful ideas:
feasibility (what is functionally possible within the foreseeable
future); viability (what is likely to become part of a sustainable
business model); and desirability (what makes sense to people and for
people).
A competent designer will resolve each of these three constraints, but a
design thinker will bring them into a harmonious balance. The popular
Nintendo Wii is a good example of what happens when someone gets it
right. For many years a veritable arms race of more sophisticated
graphics and more expensive consoles has been driving the gaming
industry. Nintendo realized that it would be possible to break out of
this vicious circle—and create a more immersive experience—by using the
new technology of gestural control. This meant less focus on the
resolution of the screen graphics, which in turn led to a less expensive
console and better margins on the product. The Wii strikes a perfect
balance of desirability, feasibility, and viability. It has created a
more engaging user experience and generated huge profits for Nintendo.

图片 3

A second approach is the one commonly taken by engineering-driven
companies looking for a technological breakthrough. In this scenario
teams of researchers will discover a new way of doing something and only
afterward will they think about how the technology might fit into an
existing business system and create value. As Peter Drucker showed in
his classic study Innovation and Entrepreneurship, reliance on
technology is hugely risky. Relatively few technical innovations bring
an immediate economic benefit that will justify the investments of time
and resources they require. This may explain the steady decline of the
large corporate R&D labs such as Xerox PARC and Bell Labs that were such
powerful incubators in the 1960s and ’70s. Today, corporations instead
attempt to narrow their innovation efforts to ideas that have more
near-term business potential. They may be making a big mistake. By
focusing their attention on near-term viability, they may be trading
innovation for increment.

The “Innovate or Die Pedal-Powered Machine Contest” competition is a
good example. Google teamed up with the bike company Specialized to
create a design competition whose modest challenge was to use bicycle
technology to change the world. The winning team—five committed
designers and an extended family of enthusiastic supporters—was a late
starter. In a few frenzied weeks of brainstorming and prototyping, the
team was able to identify a pressing issue (1.1 billion people in
developing countries do not have access to clean drinking water),
explore a variety of alternative solutions (mobile or stationary?
trailer or luggage rack?) and build a working prototype: The Aquaduct, a
human-powered tricycle designed to filter drinking water while
transporting it, is now traveling the world to help promote clean water
innovation. It succeeded because of the inflexible constraints of
technology (pedal power), budget ($0.00), and inflexible deadline. The
experience of the Aquaduct team is the reverse of that found in most
academic or corporate labs, where the objective may be to extend the
life of a research project indefinitely and where the end of a project
may mean nothing more than the funding has dried up.

The classic starting point of any project is the brief. Almost like a
scientific hypothesis, the brief is a set of mental constraints that
gives the project team a framework from which to begin, benchmarks by
which they can measure progress, and a set of objectives to be realized:
price point, available technology, market segment, and so on. The
analogy goes even further. Just as a hypothesis is not the same as an
algorithm, the project brief is not a set of instructions or an attempt
to answer a question before it has been posed. Rather, a
well-constructed brief will allow for serendipity, unpredictability, and
the capricious whims of fate, for that is the creative realm from which
breakthrough ideas emerge. If you already know what you are after, there
is usually not much point in looking.

Karl Ronn, the head of R&D for P&G’s Home Care Division, was one of the
first senior executives to see the potential of this approach. His
stated goal was not to produce incremental additions to existing
products and brands but to inspire innovation that would generate
significant growth. This led him to IDEO with a brief that was the ideal
mix of freedom and constraint: reinvent bathroom cleaning with an
emphasis on what was enigmatically called “the everyday clean.” Ronn
didn’t show up with the latest technology from the lab and instruct the
team to package it in streamlines and tail fins. He didn’t ask us to
grow an existing market by a couple of percentage points. Without making
the brief too concrete, he helped the team establish a realistic set of
goals. Without making it too broad, he left us space to interpret the
concept for ourselves, to explore and to discover.
As the project progressed and new insights accumulated, it seemed
advisable to adjust the initial plan by introducing additional
constraints: a revised price point; a restriction that there be “no
electric motors.” Such midcourse adjustments are common and are a
natural feature of a process that is healthy, flexible, and dynamic. The
modifications to the original brief helped Ronn to specify the level of
cost and complexity that was appropriate for his business.
Simultaneously, these continual refinements of the initial plan helped
guide the project team toward the right balance of feasibility,
viability, and desirability. Over the course of about twelve weeks, this
well-crafted brief led to a staggering 350 product concepts, more than
60 prototypes, and 3 ideas that advanced to development. One of them—Mr.
Clean Magic Reach, a multifunctional tool that met every one of the
stated criteria—went into production eighteen months later.
The message here is that design thinking needs to be practiced on both
sides of the table: by the design team, obviously, but by the client as
well. I cannot count the number of clients who have marched in and said,
“Give me the next iPod,” but it’s probably pretty close to the number of
designers I’ve heard respond (under their breath), “Give me the next
Steve Jobs.” The difference between a design brief with just the right
level of constraint and one that is overly vague or overly restrictive
can be the difference between a team on fire with breakthrough ideas and
one that delivers a tired reworking of existing ones.

Although we will never, I hope, lose respect for the designer as
inspired form giver, it is common now to see designers working with
psychologists and ethnographers, engineers and scientists, marketing and
business experts, writers and filmmakers. All of these disciplines, and
many more, have long contributed to the development of new products and
services, but today we are bringing them together within the same team,
in the same space, and using the same processes. As MBAs learn to talk
to MFAs and PhDs across their disciplinary divides (not to mention to
the occasional CEO, CFO, and CTO), there will be increasing overlap in
activities and responsibilities.
There is a popular saying around IDEO that “all of us are smarter than
any of us,” and this is the key to unlocking the creative power of any
organization. We ask people not simply to offer expert advice on
materials, behaviors, or software but to be active in each of the spaces
of innovation: inspiration, ideation, and implementation. Staffing a
project with people from diverse backgrounds and a multiplicity of
disciplines takes some patience, however. It requires us to identify
individuals who are confident enough of their expertise that they are
willing to go beyond it.

To operate within an interdisciplinary environment, an individual needs
to have strengths in two dimensions—the “T-shaped” person made famous by
McKinsey & Company. On the vertical axis, every member of the team needs
to possess a depth of skill that allows him or her to make tangible
contributions to the outcome. This competence—whether in the computer
lab, in the machine shop, or out in the field—is difficult to acquire
but easy to spot. It may be necessary to sift through literally
thousands of résumés to find those unique individuals, but it is worth
the effort.
But that is not enough. Many designers who are skilled technicians,
craftsmen, or researchers have struggled to survive in the messy
environment required to solve today’s complex problems. They may play a
valuable role, but they are destined to live in the downstream world of
design execution. Design thinkers, by contrast, cross the “T.” They may
be architects who have studied psychology, artists with MBAs, or
engineers with marketing experience. A creative organization is
constantly on the lookout for people with the capacity and—just as
important—the disposition for collaboration across disciplines. In the
end, this ability is what distinguishes the merely multidisciplinary
team from a truly interdisciplinary one. In a multidisciplinary team
each individual becomes an advocate for his or her own technical
specialty and the project becomes a protracted negotiation among them,
likely resulting in a gray compromise. In an interdisciplinary team
there is collective ownership of ideas and everybody takes
responsibility for them.

Design thinking is the opposite of group thinking, but paradoxically, it
takes place in groups. The usual effect of “groupthink,” as William H.
Whyte explained to the readers of Fortune back in 1952, is to suppress
people’s creativity. Design thinking, by contrast, seeks to liberate it.
When a team of talented, optimistic, and collaborative design thinkers
comes together, a chemical change occurs that can lead to unpredictable
actions and reactions. To reach this point, however, we have learned
that we must channel this energy productively, and one way to achieve
this is to do away with one large team in favor of many small ones.

Much effort has gone into the problem of remote collaboration.
Videoconferencing, although invented in the 1960s, became widespread
once digital telephony networks became technically feasible in the
1980s. Only recently has it begun to show signs of taking hold as an
effective medium of remote collaboration. E-mail has done little to
support collective teamwork. The Internet helps move information around
but has done little to bring people together. Creative teams need to be
able to share their thoughts not only verbally but visually and
physically as well. I am not at my best writing memos. Instead, put me
in a room where somebody is sketching on a whiteboard, a couple of
others are writing notes on Post-its or sticking Polaroid photos on the
wall, and somebody is sitting on the floor putting together a quick
prototype. I haven’t yet heard of a remote collaboration tool that can
substitute for the give-and-take of sharing ideas in real time.

Google has slides, pink flamingos, and full-size inflatable dinosaurs.
Pixar has beach huts. IDEO will erupt into a pitched FingerBlaster war
on the slightest provocation.
It’s hard not to trip over the evidence of the creative cultures for
which each of these companies is famous, but these emblems of innovation
are just that—emblems. To be creative, a place does not have to be
crazy, kooky, and located in northern California. What is a prerequisite
is an environment—social but also spatial—in which people know they can
experiment, take risks, and explore the full range of their faculties.
It does little good to identify the brightest T-shaped people around,
assemble them in interdisciplinary teams, and network them to other
teams if they are forced to work in an environment that dooms their
efforts from the start. The physical and psychological spaces of an
organization work in tandem to define the effectiveness of the people
within it.
A culture that believes that it is better to ask forgiveness afterward
rather than permission before, that rewards people for success but gives
them permission to fail, has removed one of the main obstacles to the
formation of new ideas. If Gary Hamel is correct in arguing that the
twenty-first century will favor adaptability and continuous innovation,
it just makes sense that organizations whose “product” is creativity
should foster environments that reflect and reinforce it. Relaxing the
rules is not about letting people be silly so much as letting them be
whole people—a step many companies seem reluctant to take. Indeed, the
fragmentation of individual employees is often just a reflection of the
fragmentation of the organization itself. I have observed many
situations in which the supposedly “creative” designers are sequestered
from the rest of the company. Although they may have a merry time off in
their studios, this isolation quarantines them and undermines the
creative efforts of the organization from opposite angles: the designers
are cut off from other sources of knowledge and expertise, while
everyone else is given the demoralizing message that theirs is the
nine-to-five world of business attire and a sober business ethic. Would
the U.S. auto industry have reacted faster to changes in the market if
designers, marketers, and engineers had been sitting around the same
table? Perhaps.
The concept of “serious play” has a long, rich history within American
social science, but nobody understands it in more practical terms than
Ivy Ross. As senior VP of design for girls’ products at Mattel, Ross
realized that Mattel had made it difficult for the various disciplines
across the company to communicate and collaborate. To address this she
created Platypus, the code name for a twelve-week experiment in which
participants from across the organization were invited to relocate to an
alternative space with the objective of creating new and out-of-the-box
product ideas. “Other companies have skunk works,” Ross told Fast
Company. “We have a platypus. I looked up the definition, and it said,
‘an uncommon mix of different species.’”
Indeed, the species at Mattel could hardly have been more different:
people came from finance, marketing, engineering, and design. The only
requirement was that they commit themselves full-time to Platypus for
three months. Since many of them had never been involved in new product
development before and few had any kind of creative training, the first
two weeks of the session were spent in a “creativity boot camp.” There
they heard from a spectrum of experts about everything from child
development to group psychology and were exposed to a range of new
skills including improvised acting, brainstorming, and prototyping.
During the remaining ten weeks they explored new directions for girls’
play and came up with a series of innovative product concepts. By the
end they were ready to pitch their ideas to management.
Although it was located literally in the shadow of the company’s
headquarters in El Segundo, California, Platypus created a space that
challenged all of the corporate rules. Ross regularly brought new teams
together and put them into an environment designed to let people
experiment in ways they had never been able to in their normal jobs. As
she predicted, many Platypus graduates went back to their respective
departments determined to use the practices and ideas they had learned.
They found, however, that the culture of efficiency to which they
returned invariably made that difficult. More than a few became
frustrated. Some ultimately left the company.

Over the course of their century-long history of creative problem
solving, designers have acquired a set of tools to help them move
through what I have called the “three spaces of innovation”:
inspiration, ideation, and implementation. My argument is that these
skills now need to be dispersed throughout organizations. In particular,
design thinking needs to move “upstream,” closer to the executive suites
where strategic decisions are made. Design is now too important to be
left to designers.
It may be perplexing for those with hard-won design degrees to imagine a
role for themselves beyond the studio, just as managers may find it
strange to be asked to think like designers. But this should be seen as
the inevitable result of a field that has come of age. The problems that
challenged designers in the twentieth century—crafting a new object,
creating a new logo, putting a scary bit of technology into a pleasing
or at least innocuous box—are simply not the problems that will define
the twenty-first. If we are to deal with what Bruce Mau has called the
“massive change” that seems to be characteristic of our time, we all
need to think like designers.
Just as I am challenging companies to incorporate design into their
organizational DNA, however, I want to challenge designers to continue
the transformation of design practice itself. There will always be a
place in our dizzying world for the artist, the craftsman, and the lone
inventor, but the seismic shifts taking place in every industry demand a
new design practice: collaborative but in a way that amplifies, rather
than subdues, the creative powers of individuals; focused but at the
same time flexible and responsive to unexpected opportunities; focused
not just on optimizing the social, the technical, and the business
components of a product but on bringing them into a harmonious balance.
The next generation of designers will need to be as comfortable in the
boardroom as they are in the studio or the shop, and they will need to
begin looking at every problem—from adult illiteracy to global
warming—as a design problem.

The job of the designer, to borrow a marvelous phrase from Peter
Drucker, is “converting need into demand.” On the face of it, this
sounds simple: just figure out what people want and then give it to
them. But if it’s so easy, why don’t we see more success stories like
the iPod? The Prius? MTV and eBay? The answer, I’d suggest, is that we
need to return human beings to the center of the story. We need to learn
to put people first.
Much has been written about “human-centered design” and its importance
to innovation. Since there are so few truly compelling stories, however,
it’s time to ask why it is so difficult to spot a need and design a
response. The basic problem is that people are so ingenious at adapting
to inconvenient situations that they are often not even aware that they
are doing so: they sit on their seat belts, write their PINs on their
hands, hang their jackets on doorknobs, and chain their bicycles to park
benches. Henry Ford understood this when he remarked, “If I’d asked my
customers what they wanted, they’d have said ‘a faster horse.’” This is
why traditional techniques such as focus groups and surveys, which in
most cases simply ask people what they want, rarely yield important
insights. The tools of conventional market research can be useful in
pointing toward incremental improvements, but they will never lead to
those rule-breaking, game-changing, paradigm-shifting breakthroughs that
leave us scratching our heads and wondering why nobody ever thought of
them before.
Our real goal, then, is not so much fulfilling manifest
needs by creating a speedier printer or a more ergonomic keyboard;
that’s the job of designers. It is helping people to articulate the
latent needs they may not even know they have, and this is the challenge
of design thinkers. How should we approach it? What tools do we have
that can lead us from modest incremental changes to the leaps of insight
that will redraw the map? In this chapter I’d like to focus upon three
mutually reinforcing elements of any successful design program. I’ll
call them insight, observation, and empathy.

Accordingly, almost every project we undertake involves an intensive
period of observation. We watch what people do (and do not do) and
listen to what they say (and do not say). This takes some practice.
There is nothing simple about determining whom to observe, what research
techniques to employ, how to draw useful inferences from the information
gathered, or when to begin the process of synthesis that begins to point
us toward a solution. As any anthropologist will attest, observation
relies on quality, not quantity. The decisions one makes can
dramatically affect the results one gets. It makes sense for a company
to familiarize itself with the buying habits of people who inhabit the
center of its current market, for they are the ones who will verify that
an idea is valid on a large scale—a fall outfit for Barbie, for
instance, or next year’s feature on last year’s car. By concentrating
solely on the bulge at the center of the bell curve, however, we are
more likely to confirm what we already know than learn something new and
surprising. For insights at that level we need to head for the edges,
the places where we expect to find “extreme” users who live differently,
think differently, and consume differently—a collector who owns 1,400
Barbies, for instance, or a professional car thief.

A tolerance for risk taking has as much to do with the culture of an
organization as with its business strategy. Some would argue that a
climate of open-ended exploration encourages a profligate waste of
resources: Chairman Mao Zedong’s policy during the Great Leap Forward,
“Let a hundred flowers bloom,” ended in complete disaster. But in
contrast to the hermetically sealed environment of revolutionary China,
the globalized economy today really is experiencing a “great leap
forward.” In an organization that encourages experimentation, there will
be projects destined to go nowhere and still others that the keepers of
institutional memory prefer not to talk about (remember the Apple
Newton?). But to view such initiatives as “wasteful,” “inefficient,” or
“redundant” may be a symptom of a culture focused on efficiency over
innovation and a company at risk of collapsing into a downward spiral of
incrementalism.

The obvious counterpart to an attitude of experimentation is a climate
of optimism. Sometimes the state of the world makes this difficult to
sustain, but the fact remains that curiosity does not thrive in
organizations that have grown cynical. Ideas are smothered before they
have a chance to come to life. People willing to take risks are driven
out. Up-and-coming leaders steer clear of projects with uncertain
outcomes out of fear that participation might damage their chances for
advancement. Project teams are nervous, suspicious, and prone to
second-guessing what management “really” wants. Even when leadership
wants to promote disruptive innovation and open-ended experimentation,
it will find that no one is willing to step forward without
permission—which usually means defeat before the start.
Without optimism—the unshakable belief that things could be better than
they are—the will to experiment will be continually frustrated until it
withers. Positive encouragement does not require the pretense that all
ideas are created equal. It remains the responsibility of leadership to
make discerning judgments, which will inspire confidence if people feel
that their ideas have been given a fair hearing.

I have saved for last the single most powerful tool of design thinking.
This is not CAD, rapid prototyping, or even offshore manufacturing but
that empathic, intuitive, pattern-recognizing, parallel-processing, and
neural-networking Internet that each of us carries between our ears. For
the time being, at any rate, it is our ability to construct complex
concepts that are both functionally relevant and emotionally resonant
that sets humans apart from the ever more sophisticated machines we use
to assist us. As long as there is no algorithm that will tell us how to
bring divergent possibilities into a convergent reality or analytical
detail into a synthetic whole, this talent will guarantee that
accomplished design thinkers have a place in the world.

There are many approaches to prototyping, but they share a single,
paradoxical feature: They slow us down to speed us up. By taking the
time to prototype our ideas, we avoid costly mistakes such as becoming
too complex too early and sticking with a weak idea for too long.
I wrote earlier that all design thinkers, whether or not they happen to
have been trained in any of the recognized design disciplines, inhabit
three “spaces of innovation.” Since design thinkers will continue to
“think with their hands” throughout the life of a project—aiming toward
greater fidelity as it advances toward completion—prototyping is one of
the practices that enable them to occupy all three realms
simultaneously.
Prototyping is always inspirational—not in the sense of a perfected
artwork but just the opposite: because it inspires new ideas.
Prototyping should start early in the life of a project, and we expect
them to be numerous, quickly executed, and pretty ugly. Each one is
intended to develop an idea “just enough” to allow the team to learn
something and move on. At this relatively low level of resolution, it’s
almost always best for the team members to make their own prototypes and
not outsource them to others. Designers may require a fully equipped
model shop, but design thinkers can “build” prototypes in the cafeteria,
a boardroom, or a hotel suite.
One way to motivate early-stage prototyping is to set a goal: to have a
prototype ready by the end of the first week or even the first day. Once
tangible expressions begin to emerge, it becomes easy to try them out
and elicit feedback internally from management and externally from
potential customers. Indeed, one of the measures of an innovative
organization is its average time to first prototype. In some
organizations, this work can take months or even years—the automobile
industry is a telling example. In the most creative organizations, it
can happen within a few days.
In the ideation space we build prototypes to develop our ideas to ensure
that they incorporate the functional and emotional elements necessary to
meet the demands of the market. As the project moves forward, the number
of prototypes will go down while the resolution of each one goes up, but
the purpose remains the same: to help refine an idea and improve it. If
the precision required at this stage exceeds the capabilities of the
team, it may be necessary to turn to outside experts—model makers,
videographers, writers, or actors, as the case may be—for help.
In the third space of innovation we are concerned with implementation:
communicating an idea with sufficient clarity to gain acceptance across
the organization, proving it, and showing that it will work in its
intended market. Here too, the habit of prototyping plays an essential
role. At different stages the prototype may serve to validate a
subassembly of a subassembly: the graphics on a screen, the armrest of a
chair, or a detail in the interaction between a blood donor and a Red
Cross volunteer. As the project nears completion, prototypes will likely
be more complete. They will probably be expensive and complex and may be
indistinguishable from the real thing. By this time you know you have a
good idea; you just don’t yet know how good it is.
McDonald’s is a company famous for applying the prototyping process
throughout each of the spaces of innovation. In the inspirational space,
designers use sketches, quick mock-ups, and scenarios to explore new
services, product offerings, and customer experiences. These might be
kept under wraps or shown to management or consumers to get early
feedback. To nurture the ideation space, McDonald’s has built a
sophisticated prototyping facility at its headquarters outside Chicago
where project teams can configure every type of cooking equipment,
point-of-sale technology, and restaurant layout to test new ideas. When
a new idea is almost ready for implementation, it will often be tested
in the form of a pilot deployed at selected restaurants.

图片 4

Projects in the bottom-left quadrant—close to existing offerings and
existing users—tend to be incremental in nature. They are important,
and, indeed, the majority of a company’s effort is likely to be put into
this type of innovation, which might include the extension of a
successful brand or the next iteration of a current product. The aisles
of any supermarket provide countless examples of incremental innovation:
each of the dozens of flavors of toothpaste came from a process of
incremental innovation and probably resulted in increased sales for the
manufacturer. In the auto industry, where the costs of tooling can be
astronomical, the vast majority of efforts are focused around
incremental innovation—improvements to an existing model or the
extension of an existing range. Auto manufacturers worldwide have
suffered during the current recession, but those that have focused only
on incremental innovation, namely Detroit’s “Big Three,” find themselves
in the deepest trouble of all.
In addition to incremental projects that secure a company’s base, it is
vital to pursue evolutionary projects that stretch that base in new
directions. This more venturesome goal can be reached either by
extending existing offerings to solve the unmet needs of current
customers or adapting them to meet the needs of new customers or
markets. The Prius is an example of this type of evolutionary
innovation. Through clever engineering and great design, Toyota captured
the emerging demand for energy-efficient personal transportation while
its American competitors were riding the existing wave of ever-larger
SUVs. With fortuitous timing, the Prius offered customers significantly
lower fuel consumption just as fuel prices in the United States leaped
upward. The real innovation, however, was not just the hybrid electric
motor but the large, colorful information display that gives drivers a
minute-by-minute indication of fuel economy, constantly challenging them
to improve the fuel efficiency of their driving. Toyota is positioned to
weather the economic storm because it invested in evolutionary, not just
incremental, innovation.
Evolutionary innovation along the user axis might involve adapting an
existing product so that it can be manufactured at a lower cost and thus
marketed to a wider population. This is the concept underlying Tata
Motors’ controversial microcar, the Nano. The Nano is neither a new nor
an original automobile; European microcars have been available since the
1950s. But a vehicle like Mercedes’ $12,000 Smart car is still beyond
the reach of much of the Indian market. Tata responded by engineering a
car that has most of the features consumers expect but at a much lower
cost. The Nano’s two-cylinder engine is more compact and lighter in
weight than any previous engine and is therefore cheaper to manufacture.
Its electronic engine management system allows it to get fifty-four
miles per gallon and to produce lower emissions than the millions of
two-wheeled vehicles now sputtering along India’s crowded roads. At a
projected purchase price of just $2,000 the Nano is poised to reach a
market previously inaccessible to car manufacturers.
The most challenging type of innovation—and the riskiest—is that in
which both the product and the users are new. A revolutionary innovation
creates entirely new markets, but this happens only rarely. Sony
achieved this feat with the Walkman, and Apple did so twenty years later
with its brilliant successor, the iPod
. In neither case was the core
technology new, but both companies succeeded in creating a market for a
different type of musical experience. The Segway Personal Transporter,
by contrast, is an instructive failure. The self-described “serial
inventor” Dean Kamen identified a need for a means of urban transport in
situations where distances are too long for walking but not long enough
to justify getting into our cars. Using sophisticated gyroscopic
technology, he invented a clever two-wheeled vehicle that automatically
balances itself as it whisks travelers along the sidewalks of their
towns and neighborhoods.

When I speak to CEOs, the question they most often ask is “How can I
make my company more innovative?” They recognize that in today’s fluid
business environment innovation is key to their competitiveness, but
they are equally aware of the difficulties in focusing their
organizations around this goal. Jim Hackett, the CEO of Steelcase, is
one of a small number of enlightened business leaders who understand
that a steady flow of innovative products rests upon an underlying
culture of innovation. While he is excited by the challenge of designing
new products, he is even more excited by the challenge of designing the
organization itself.
Like many innovators, Hackett paid a price for coming to this question
years before the business press turned “innovation” into a new kind of
religion. There were no road maps to help him achieve his goals and few
metrics to help gauge his success. Over time, however, through the hard
work of his leadership team and his own willingness to experiment,
Steelcase came to look like a different company from the one that
offered the world its first fireproof wastebasket back in 1914. Whereas
once technology and manufacturing capability drove most of its
new-product development, the innovation process at Steelcase now begins
with a focus on the needs of users and customers. Steelcase works
outward from the perspective of human-centered design thinking.

1.Turn “can’t” into “can if”1. 把“不能”变为“可能”

Words Review List:

words sentence
earshot I grew up within earshot of the
sport springs the carriages now sport springs and cushioned seats
cushioned the carriages now sport springs and cushioned seats
scenery and the scenery has certainly changed
viaducts He constructed bridges, viaducts, cuttings, and tunnels all in the cause of creating not just efficient transportation
Paddington Station board a train at London’s Paddington Station
prescient Brunel displayed a remarkable—and remarkably prescient
Bangalore today as businesses in Shenzhen and Bangalore tap into the same management theories as those in Silicon Valley and Detroit
Detroit today as businesses in Shenzhen and Bangalore tap into the same management theories as those in Silicon Valley and Detroit
nanotechnology have merged in the forms of biotechnology and nanotechnology
ominous these spectacular achievements are unlikely to help us reverse our ominous course
feasible from a human point of view with what is technologically feasible
venerable a venerable English machinery manufacturer called Wadkin Bursgreen
disruptive out of the studio and unleashes its disruptive
inexorably As the center of economic activity in the developing world shifts inexorably from industrial manufacturing to knowledge creation and service delivery
prudent it seemed prudent to try something new
hunch The team began with a hunch that it should not focus on the high-end market
bewildering by the bewildering complexity and excessive cost of the bikes
entice would entice lapsed bikers back into an activity that was simple, straightforward, healthy, and fun
lapsed would entice lapsed bikers back into an activity that was simple, straightforward, healthy, and fun
adherence to rethink our assumptions rather than press onward in adherence to an original plan
coexistence This pursuit of peaceful coexistence does not imply that all constraints are created equal
dreaming up At its worst this may mean dreaming up alluring but essentially meaningless products
alluring At its worst this may mean dreaming up alluring but essentially meaningless products
laudable Even when the goals are laudable, however
serendipity a well-constructed brief will allow for serendipity, unpredictability, and the capricious whims of fate
capricious a well-constructed brief will allow for serendipity, unpredictability, and the capricious whims of fate
whims a well-constructed brief will allow for serendipity, unpredictability, and the capricious whims of fate
dismal Not for nothing did its founders call economics “the dismal science.”
psychologists it is common now to see designers working with psychologists and ethnographers, engineers and scientists,
multidisciplinary In the end, this ability is what distinguishes the merely multidisciplinary team from a truly interdisciplinary one
interdisciplinary In the end, this ability is what distinguishes the merely multidisciplinary team from a truly interdisciplinary one
dispersed The promise of electronic collaboration should not be to create dispersed but ever-bigger teams
bureaucratic this tendency merely compounds the political and bureaucratic problems we are trying to solve
promising there have been promising signs of change
interludes die in the interludes between weekly meetings
technovisionary the Internet itself, as the technovisionary Kevin Kelly has remarked, is fewer than five thousand days old!
slides Google has slides, pink flamingos, and full-size inflatable dinosaurs
flamingos Google has slides, pink flamingos, and full-size inflatable dinosaurs
inflatable Google has slides, pink flamingos, and full-size inflatable dinosaurs
FingerBlaster war IDEO will erupt into a pitched FingerBlaster war on the slightest provocation
provocation IDEO will erupt into a pitched FingerBlaster war on the slightest provocation
emblems but these emblems of innovation are just that—emblems
nine-to-five given the demoralizing message that theirs is the nine-to-five world
Platypus To address this she created Platypus
El Segundo Although it was located literally in the shadow of the company’s headquarters in El Segundo, California
tangible move more quickly to tangible prototypes
precincts These ideas have even made their way into the precincts of higher education
seismic but the seismic shifts taking place in every industry demand a new design practice
arcane I do not mean this in an arcane or romantic sense
bell curve By concentrating solely on the bulge at the center of the bell curve
orthodoxy The exaggerated concerns of people at the margins led the team to abandon the orthodoxy of the “matched set”
prosaic how does membership in an online community affect the behavior of individuals once they return to the prosaic world of atoms
diffuse One way to help design thinking diffuse throughout an organization
deduction is an emphasis on thinking based upon logic and deduction
convergent convergent and divergent thinking
divergent convergent and divergent thinking
rhythmic looks like a rhythmic exchange between the divergent and convergent phases
Post-it The Post-it note stands as an object lesson in how organizational timidity threatens to kill off a great idea
counterintuitive This seems counterintuitive
Legos If playing with Legos is a child’s way of “learning with your hands”
leapfrogged In a stroke, United leapfrogged its competitors
sheer scale The sheer scale required to sustain the economics of industrialization meant that
propagating propagating the faith
quadrant Projects in the bottom-left quadrant—close to existing offerings and existing users
Oral-B Some years ago a talented team at IDEO worked with Oral-B to design a better children’s toothbrush

Problems make us feel paralyzed. When youmeet a roadblock, it’snatural
to throw your hands up and want to walk away. But next time you find
yourself brainstorming on something and saying “We can’t because…” try
starting the sentence “We can if…”
instead。各种问题麻痹了我们的神经。当我们遇到了障碍,自然而然地我们就想举起双手调头就走。但下次你发现自己在头脑风暴的时候在说“我们不能……是因为……”,换另一种说法:“我们可以……”

Here’s an example: Recently, my businessNever Liked It Anywaymade a
venture into creating its own content. We needed an army of talented
writers. Immediately, we waved the “We can’t because we don’t have
money” flag. It didn’t serve us very well. Then, we shifted to thinking
about options: “We can if… we identify talented, aspiring writers and
offer them mentorship instead,” and “We can if… we align them to our
vision of ousting Cosmopolitan magazine and invite them to be part of
that journey!” 举个例子,最近,我的专栏Never Liked It
Anyway冒险地增设了内容,我们需要许多有才的写手。很快的,我们举了“我们不能找到人因为我们没有资金”的白旗。这让我们的感觉都不会。然后我们转换了思维方式:“我们能够做到如果……我们找到了有才的,有激情的作家,并为他们提供培训来补偿。”或“我们能够做到如果……我们把他们与我们的大都会杂志的理念联合起来,并要求他们成为其中的一员!”

Simple, right? We now have five talented writers on our team, and we’re
growing
fast。很简单,对吧?笔者的团队如今已经有5位才华洋溢的作家了,并且我们还在快速发展之中。

2.Access your assets2. 获得资产。

Ownership is becoming an antiquated concept, replaced by the shared
economy. Companies like Zipcar, Netflix, Songza, Rent the Runway, and
Dropbox have smashed ownership into oblivion. This “access” mode of
thinking should apply to your business assets and resources, too. Rather
than thinking about what assets you own, consider what assets you can
access. 所有权已经是一个过时的概念了,已经被分享经济所取代。诸如Zipcar,
Netflix, Songza, Rent the
Runway还有Dropbox这些公司都已经把公司的所有权粉碎得遗忘了。这个“通行证”的思维模式也应该应用在商业资产和资源之中。与其计算自己拥有多少资产,还不如考虑你能获得的资产有多少。

3.Ask impossible questions3. 提出不可能的问题。

Weirdly, in the context of innovation, impossible questions are more
useful than hard questions。

Impossible questions collide the scale of your ambition with the problem
itself.This turbocharges creativity and catapults us into problem
solving mode
instantly。奇怪的是,在谈论创新的语境中,不可能的问题比困难的问题来得更有用。不可能的问题使你的志向幅度和问题本身相碰撞。这样的涡轮式的压力所产生的创造力引发我们瞬间解决问题的可能。

4.Put constraints on yourself4. 严格约束自己。

We’re not always up against constraints. In some parts of our working
lives, we actually have it pretty good. Ironically, this can be a
challenge in itself and often results in us moving slowly and less
creatively against our
problem。我们总不是一直面临着现在。在我们工作生活的一些部分,我们的确受到很大的限制。现实的是,这也能成为一项挑战并常常让我们在问题面前进度缓慢,创造力低下。

The solution? Put constraints on yourself. That’s right: Deliberately
limit your time, budget, or resources. I’m in the process of launching a
podcast series. Each week, I watched it slide off my task list and land
on next week’s to-dos. Then, I decided to put a constraint on myself:
Just spend 15 minutes each day working toward this goal. Of course I
have 15 minutes to invest in this project every day! In five days, I
made more progress than I had in the previous five weeks. Progress
begets progress, and now the project has momentum of its
own。解决方法是?约束你自己。对的,故意限制自己的时间,资金或资源。笔者正在进行着播客系列的内容创建,每周我都会看着它在我的待办事项中消失,然后出现在下周的清单中。然后,我觉得给自己一些限制:每天只花15分钟完成这件事。当然我每天都有15分钟完成这件事!坚持五天后,我所取得的进步比之前5周的进步多得多,进步推动进步,现在这个栏目已经很受欢迎了。

So there you have it: four easy waysto up your innovation game. Most
importantly, remember that innovation is a habit. The more you practice
it, the easier this way of thinking, and being, becomes. Next time you
encounter an innovation-crushing roadblock, allow yourself to feel the
frustration — and even a sense of resignation. But then challenge
yourself to overcome it and to actually embrace its limitation. A
Beautiful Constraint may sound like an oxymoron, but therein lies its
challenge and
effectiveness。所以就这样:你有这4种方法来增加自己的创造力。最重要的是,记得创新是一个习惯。你越多加练习,创新的思维,创新的发现和创新的结果就会越来越容易出现。下次当你遇到一个创新障碍时,要让自己去感受这种焦躁的情绪,即使是辞职的想法。然后挑战自己的耐力去解决它,并接受它的局限性。“美丽的限制”听起来有点像双关语,但实际上它就隐含了挑战与效果。

(来源:沪江英语)

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