On January 25th, the New York Times published a lengthy piece focusing on the “human costs” of Apple’s manufacturing process. The piece is structured around the May 19, 2011 explosion at a Foxconn factory in Chengdu, China. The explosion was determined to be caused by the combustion of aluminum dust that resulted from the polishing of iPads that the site assembles. Authors Charles Duhigg and David Barboza do a nice job illustrating the human side of the amazing manufacturing feats that are achieved to help Apple and other electronics manufacturers turn out new products at a breakneck pace. It clearly hit a nerve, as Tim Cook issued a company-wide email soon thereafter in response.

I’m writing this post on my MBP that is currently charging my iPhone. It’s a challenge for me to simply watch a TV show without referencing my iPad at least once to look something up or wait out a commercial break. As a lover of Apple products, I couldn’t help but feel some level of guilt as I read about this incident (not to mention the day-to-day situation at these factories). I like to think that I make a lot of conscious decisions about how I can live my first-world life in a way that reduces my impact on others. Winter aside, I buy the majority of my produce from a local farmer. I drive a car that gets over 40mpg. My household recycles far more than we throw out. You get the point. So again, my concern: was my Apple habit supporting the exploitation and endangerment of others? Yes and no.

If you simply read Duhigg and Barboza’s piece, you’d be right in thinking that Apple is taking advantage of developing countries like China, squeezing them to work an inhuman pace to satiate our need for new iStuff. Pull back a bit, though, and you get a more measured view. Forbes had a nice reaction piece, citing a lot of economic theory that is still making my head spin. Thankfully, they reduced it into a bite-sized infographic (which Forbes is mysteriously no longer hosting). Also, dig deeper and read Apple’s Supplier Responsibility Progress Report from 2012. You’ll find that many of the numbers in the Times piece were reported by Apple. Dell and Samsung, the first two comparable electronics manufacturers that popped into my mind publish no such detailed reports that I can find. Dell makes something of an effort. Samsung…sends letters?

"C'mon, Apple."

Look, in comparison to their peers, Apple’s report is pretty impressive. If it’s an attempt to greenwash the issue, then it’s a damn good one. Having said that, as (retconned) Uncle Ben told us, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Apple just had the second most-profitable quarter for any company…ever (the most-profitable quarter on record is held by ExxonMobil). I think that comparison is worth pondering a bit.

Oil companies are frequently pilloried for raking in huge profits while their customers, employees, and others are forced to pay either through their wallets, lives, or environments. If Apple is now reaping similar rewards, why not hold them to this same standard? They’re talking a good game, let’s see if we can make them follow through. Nike, for all the flak they took in the 90’s, is now showing some positive examples of how to improve working conditions in the developing world. I have to think that was achieved through a combination of public outcry and dedicated corporate leadership. Today’s Apple seems to be in a similar position to 90’s Nike. Their leadership appears to be saying the right things and taking the right steps. Now it’s up to us as their customers (and contributors to that record-setting quarter) to ensure they know what’s important to us.

Children's Museum of Phoenix

A few months ago I took my 2-year-old son to the Phoenix Children’s Museum. Like the ideal Pixar movie, it offered a near perfect blend of pure fun, ah-ha moments, and creative inspiration. In fact, I’m pretty sure my kid was dragging me home. But even more memorable than the noodle forest and pneumatic hankerchef delivery system was a shuttered room with a sign that said, “Experiment in progress: we’re designing new ways to play”.

It seems almost counterintuitive to “design” play. We often associate play with spontaneous fun that’s, at most, bounded by a loose set of ground rules (e.g. no hair pulling) that can evolve as needed. But in many ways, today’s playgrounds are designed with a heavy hand and a few too many dashes of bureaucracy. American playgrounds have morphed into spongy turf areas filled with bulbous plastic structures that offer up ready-made, predictable experiences. These structures are meant to restrict (read “protect”) as much as entertain… let alone inspire.

It’s true, on one level cities pressed by budget constraints face issues like liability and upkeep, which in turn drives the eventual lowest-common-denominator form playgrounds take. But on another level, these generic playgrounds seem designed with an insidious checklist mentality—can kids swing? check; can kids climb? check; is there a tunnel? check; will parents think its safe? check. As we all know, a checklist does not fun make.

To design play well, we should start from a different mindset. A tunnel is not inherently fun. However, crowding into a tunnel with others and collectively squishing a beach ball through it could be. Here a tunnel becomes a congregation point that supports a variety of fun and unpredictable activities. So the question guiding the project becomes: how do we create a series of similarly inviting spots that encourage inventive play? Or better yet, how do we enable the kids to create those spots for themselves?

Imagination Playground

In The New Yorker, Rebecca Mead wrote about a new breed of “interesting” playgrounds appearing in the city. One of the examplars is Imagination Playground designed by David Rockwell. The key difference from the “uninteresting” playgrounds is replacing fixed equipment with a battery of loose parts. Kids can use these parts to fashion all types of things from forts to game areas. This type of set up encourages collaboration, sharing, and a sense of collective accomplishment.

As Mead described in a podcast, this park includes a “play worker” or coordinator, someone who oversees the park and is there to help children learn to play. Instead of being overbearing, this person is meant to help liberate the kids from their parents’ intrusive (but well-intentioned) mediation. This allows the kids to figure out how to accomplish things themselves while also enabling self-direction and invention. In other words, this more loosely structured playground actually offers more freedom for imaginative play and, in turn, more challenges for kids to puzzle through than the traditional one that attempted to anticipate and cater to their perceived needs.

Naturally this principle applies to broader creative challenges, too. Creating a supportive, collaborative environment where ideas can grow in unanticipated ways will, at a minimum, lead to a more engaged team and, ideally, better end results. As design “coordinators,” enabling others to think creatively themselves (while having fun doing it) will allow everyone tackling a problem to quckly jump past the generic solutions toward the more “interesting” or appropriate ones. For everyone who’s part of the creative class, it’s up to us to discover and teach others “new ways to play”. It’s serious business.

Ice Cube… on Design!

As it turns out, Ice Cube studied architectural drafting before becoming a rapper. Who knew he was a design aficionado?! He shares his fascinating perspective on the Eames House in this video. I love the parallels between design and music techniques like mashups and sampling. “It’s not about the pieces. It’s how the pieces work together.”

Just F’ing Do Something

I’m cheating and posting two, but they’re really just different statements of the same idea: just f’ing do something…good things will happen. I think of one or both of these any time I find myself in a rut or just procrastinating.

Sleepwalk With Me

I’m a big Mike Birbiglia fan anyway, but this special recording floored me. It’s technically a comedy album, but it is so much more than that…told as a single story with a lot of hilarious tangents, it’s a brilliant take on the human condition from the “everyman” perspective. The ease of delivery diverts you from how carefully it is constructed, and the humor is a sweet icing on top of what is actually a very emotional and heartfelt story. It has a little bit of everything in it, and the first listen provided me with one of those rare moments of realizing what I was experiencing was a “masterpiece”. An inspiring piece of work. An aside – yet another instance of how “we are all patients“.

“Be More Like Yourself” – Thomas Williams

Thom was a cherished poet, writer, artist, musician, husband and teacher to thousands of kids. He was my High School English teacher, mentor, and friend. Thom left us December, 2010. This quote embodies his simple-yet-challenging style. I wrote it down in my notebook after I learned of his passing and have revisited it throughout the year.

Food at Our Feet

I asked Emily if there are any healthy lunch spots near our office. “No.” But perhaps we were too literal. There’s food everywhere, at least according to Rene Redzepi, creator of Noma, a restaurant in Denmark that’s been recognized two years running as the best in the world. Much of his menu is made up of food he and his staff foraged from its surrounding environs. It’s the age-old artist trope of taking the obvious, the available, the overlooked…and transforming it through inspired labor into something that’s intangibly *more*. With a bit of study and some creativity in the kitchen, an evening walk could eliminate a trip to the grocery store.

Artfully Visualizing our Humanity

As a part of my Grad degree, we spent a lot of time looking into how to make vast amounts of abstract data accessible for people. This Ted talk by Aaron Koblin blew me away, not just for the way he brings complex data to life, but also for his collaborative, distributed projects including the Johnny Cash filmclip ‘Ain’t no Grave’. It’s really stunning to see how each contributor’s small artwork is woven into an amazing video. Really speaks to the power of collaboration, which is so central to what we do.

Louis CK Phenom/Father

In general, I’ve been a huge fan of what Louis CK has done this year. He writes, directs, even edits his own show, and his $5 pay-me-directly-to-download comedy special quickly grossed $1 million (with $280K promised to 5 different charities and $250K to staff bonuses). But what I read that struck me as most innovative is that he crams all his work into ½ a week so he can spend the other half with his kids.

Living with Ease

In Mettā (Loving Kindness) Meditation, a recurring theme is a “life filled with ease”. Sounds nice, huh? But try really being at ease. It’s tough to achieve. This relates back to Russ’ earlier post about the role of pervasive technology in our lives. From waking to sleep – and even during sleep – we are surrounded by tools to help make life easier. And they do. But it takes a lot to manage and tend to all these ease-making tools. We cram more into our days as a result of the time these tools have saved for us. I think about this a lot and how we in the design field can be making decisions that better facilitate ease, not just the promise of it.

Silly Things are Important Too

“Don’t wait until you know who you are to make things.” – Austin Kleon

I believe that we learn so much through the process of making something, whether that thing is a painting or poem, sketch or sculpture, or just a great big mess. Not only do we gain and practice new skills, the things that we create communicate aspects of ourselves that might never otherwise come to light. It’s important to acknowledge that making silly things is just as significant.

Sketching: The Visual Thinking Power Tool

Early in 2011 I read a great article by Mike Rohde on A List Apart about the importance of sketching. The practice of sketching has been an integral part of my life for as long as I can remember. At Think Brownstone we always make sketchnotes of the conferences we attend. Sketching is a vital part of our design process, and so we’ve framed our whiteboards and sketch on them together every day. I wholeheartedly agree with Mike Rohde when he says “Sketches have an amazing ability to foster discussions about ideas. With colleagues and especially clients, I’ve found sketches give everyone involved the permission to consider, talk about, and challenge the ideas they represent. After all, it’s just a sketch.”

On behalf of the entire Think Brownstone team, we wish you a Happy New Year full of fun insights!

I know this is not a new idea, but as experience designers we’ve been talking about it from what I believe is a unique angle. Plus, it’s the holiday season, and in Brad’s words, “this is the time of year for grandiloquent posts and recaps and resolutions.” So, hell yeah, I’m going for my personal spin on it in the name of the 2012 resolution I’m making as a result.

A Still From Terry Gilliam's "Brazil". Is The Future What Garry Tan Calls "Utter Saturation of the Mentalscape"?

Recently it hit me that my life has sort of devolved into a constant movement from one LCD display to another – on many weekdays, I’ve got one of those glowing nasties in front of me from beginning to end. I realized that although it feels like I take a break from one thing and move on to something else, there’s actually an eerily dystopian quality to it all when you take a few steps back and try to look at it objectively.

Reaching for the iPhone the minute I wake up, cycles of moving from the desktop to the laptop for different tasks, being jolted out of ever-shrinking periods of deep focus by intrusive messaging mechanisms, checking in on things while at stoplights or in line at the store, taking a break from all of that to bask in the glow of the TV for a movie or some Wii, then grabbing the phone again to play games or putz around until I fall asleep. Too many parallels with addictive behavior there for my liking.

Now listen, I’m no neo-luddite – I am in no way interested in eschewing the productivity and connectivity that these tools allow. In one of our recent e-mail conversations Brad made this point, with which I wholeheartedly agree:

There’s also the more nuanced subtext here of distraction-free work areas. I don’t see reading my Kindle as a problem because it’s a dedicated device that I will sit down and read alone. By itself. I’ve also been reading a couple articles recently by serious writers (well, bloggers/reporters…but legit ones) who are using their iPads with keyboards as their full-time writing machines. Their rationale is that its unitasking helps them write without all the distractions of their full-on computer (and the all-day battery life doesn’t hurt either).

Therefore, the argument that most folks would make is that if I feel like I’m being sucked into a vortex where it’s very difficult to focus or get into a really productive, uninterrupted, creative headspace, I’m doing it to myself because I’ve opened those doors. You have to “make it a point to unplug.” Thing is, that is a lot easier to say than actually do – especially when the interface between humans and technology is a big part of where you play. I wondered whether it was related to being older and having more responsibility…Phil’s response:

I don’t necessarily agree with the sentiment that this has to do with getting older and having more responsibilities. Teaching a class of mixed grads and undergrads I can confidently say that the attention span issues related to digital devices has no generational gap. If you’re digitally engaged, you’re easily distracted. The people in my class can’t avoid looking at their phones if they buzz, the folks who are embedded in their careers are a bit better, but ask them a question they can Google and they will whip out their phone/tablet/laptop faster than you can imagine.

Why do I care? “Rhapsody In Blue” could not have been written while simultaneously answering e-mails, re-tweeting funny links, and watching the news (aside: you think you’re at your best when multi-tasking? you’re wrong). A few recent side projects have made me realize that the absorbing creative headspace that was once so easy for me to inhabit has become more difficult to establish, because my brain is now so used to skittering around and taking a million little sips from the information fire hose; it’s not nearly as accustomed to long, satisfying drinks.

My Little One, @20 Months

I am concerned about that for myself, but my task is to reclaim what once came more easily – I at least have a reference point. But for digital natives like my daughter who will know no other way of life, they will have an uphill battle to claim that mode of operation in the first place – it will be a fight against the current and undoubtedly not the norm. What will we as humans be capable of as our minds and attention spans change in this way? I hope that the generation following mine will be outraged by the suggestion that they might not be given enough personal cognitive space to create things through art or science that will change the world, and assuage my fears that we might be moving into an age of ironic homogeny brought on by information, interaction, and communication ubiquity where break-out brilliance is too rare an occurrence.

So, my resolution for 2012? To reclaim the word “meaningful” from the design community, where it has been used too often and robbed of its power. A button or a click or a brief message might be intuitive, logical, and functional. But if I interact with it, move on to a million other things, and ultimately forget it, it is not meaningful. Meaningful things are the ones that stay with you, define you, and remind you why it’s worthwhile to roll out of bed and have-at-it again every morning.

Technology is not the enemy, but I want the story of my days to sound a little more balanced than it currently does. I’m going to listen to some albums start-to-finish while lying on the floor, just melting into the experience of it as the artist intended. I’m going to take Emily’s advice and read “All The King’s Men.” I’m going to force myself to not instinctively fill every “empty” moment by taking my turns on “Words With Friends” or checking Twitter, but instead figure out how to get maximum benefit out of those things by applying some structure and boundaries. I’m going to sit outside in beautiful locations for long periods of time, shut off my phone, and see where my mind takes me. I have no doubt that I’ll be a better digital citizen for the effort.

This is what I’m thinking about as 2011 draws to a close and a beautiful, orange, analog sunset (one I’m simply enjoying, with no attempt to capture) spills warm light into the Think Space. It has been an amazing year…next year, as I get a better grip on the reins of my brain, will be even better. Happy holidays!

Blogworld Social Health Track Badge Decorations

Years ago I worked at a management consulting company producing and managing their line of multimedia products. Our Marketing department travelled to almost every industry conference; setting up booths, talking to clients, getting leads, and delivering sessions.

I once asked our Director of Marketing how many true sales were generated by our conference efforts.

His answer sounded something like, “Almost none. The main reason we do this is to talk to our existing customers and make sure our competitors know we’re doing well enough to spend money to go to conferences.”

Did you catch that? We attended conferences to make sure our clients and competitors knew we were still alive. It was all about showing up.

When I started presenting at conferences, I quickly learned that no matter how valuable your sessions are, very few qualified leads come of them. Sure, cards are exchanged and relationships begin, but conferences are often places to learn what’s out there and consider where to expand your business.

At most conferences, the bar was set quite low for session speakers. Usually, it was based on your ability to write a snappy title and a 250-word description. In case you’re wondering, neither of those is a requirement for being an engaging public speaker.

Then TED happened.

TEDxPhilly: Organized By Folks with an Eye for Design

While I’ve never attended TED, I have attended TEDxPhilly for two years now. TED is what many trade conferences often want to be, but can’t figure out how to be. For me, above everything else, TED is about the free exchange of ideas facilitated through compelling storytellers. It allows everyone to digest ideas and see how they may be able to apply them elsewhere. It doesn’t work unless the speaker has something worthwhile to say and can say it in a compelling way. You don’t need a laser-light show or rocking intro music or even a PowerPoint deck.

Before TED, I went to conferences seeking speakers I knew or topics I practiced.

After TED, I often seek out speakers I don’t know and topics totally unrelated to my day-to-day work.

If I want to learn something more about things I already know, I’ll reach out to an industry leader, search Google, or read a book. Finding the connections between things I’m not familiar with makes it a little more difficult.

Both the Blogworld Social Health Track and TEDxPhilly had more to offer than just showing up. So, rather than do a full summary of these two vastly different conferences, I thought I’d focus on one connection from each conference that changed my perspective a little bit:

BlogWorld 2011 Social Health Track

First off, big thanks go out again to Rob Halper from Johnson & Johnson and Marc Monseau of MDM Consulting for their tireless efforts putting this track together and keeping things running smoothly throughout. The word I wrote over and over again in my notebook for the three days of excellent sessions was Curation. Digitally engaged healthcare professionals like Dr. Val Jones, Dr. Nick Genes, or The Nerdy Nurse are involved in many different projects, but all focus on the central theme of curating content for their peers and patients.

Our Own Russ Starke Moderates a Session With Patient Advocate Bloggers Jenni, Kerri & Katie

Meanwhile, on the patient side, friends like Kerri (sixuntilme.com), Jenni (chronicbabe.com), and Katie (overflowingbrain.com) curate content for their followers to help guide them through the journeys their conditions dole out for them. There is SO much information on the internet, much of it false or misleading, that everyone needs help navigating through it. The more these folks do their jobs well the more the good information will flow to the top. That improves treatments, lives, and even the cost of healthcare.

So my perspective has now changed. If you manage content you’re either a creator, a curator, or both. I plan to study more about curation. I’ve talked about it for decades, but what does it truly entail these days? I’m excited to continue exploring that.

[On a side note, it has been more than just professionally rewarding to participate in the Social Health movement. Sure, Russ' skillful moderation of the Patient Advocate panel at the beginning of the conference was a great example of his years of experience working and teaching in our industry. It's the long-lasting friendships we have formed over the years with engaged patients, physicians and industry leaders that will last far beyond any conference session.]

TEDxPhilly

The official theme for TEDxPhilly was “The City.” Throughout the day, I kept thinking about how each speaker was finding ways to simultaneously transform a city while maintaining its identity. That’s not so easy if you think about it. Youngjin Yoo from Temple University’s Center for Design+Innovation observed, “Cities are the most complex man-made artifacts.” They are ever-changing, self-aware, and perpetually trying to improve. We often hear about the singularity as the moment that humans will create a system that has become self-aware, but haven’t we done that already? Wasn’t that accomplished long before technology was so advanced we could even think of the singularity? The City is simultaneously a self-aware organism and a computer collecting and processing data. TEDxPhilly was just an opportunity to see different systems within that organism come together.

We often talk about ecosystems on the projects we take on, but we don’t think about the entire ecosystem as an organism. That may sound like semantic mumbo-jumbo to you, but to me it solidifies something that has bothered me for a while. While you’re building or re-building your corner of a system, all the elements connected to yours are evolving as well. You should always expect that. You often can’t plan for the disruption this causes, but you can certainly panic less when it does.

So, conferences aren’t dead, they’ve just evolved. The massive, multi-track conferences have their place, but the trade show floors are often a depressing circus of tacky tchotchkes, lots of whizz-bang, and little substance. Keynotes are hit-or-miss, but when they’re a hit, you’re glad you came. The hard thing to do is to root out a session that changes your perspective, even a little bit.

Last week, Emily, Mike, and I had the opportunity to spend the day at an “ET” session: “Presenting Data and Information.” We thought it would be fun to each take a short crack at what our key takeaway was from that day. 

Emily

“So what?” I asked myself after hearing Tufte talk. He offered a lot of great observations and insights, but so what? No offense, Mr. Tufte, we ask this a lot at Think Brownstone. And clients engage us to help them answer their “so what’s.” Here’s one of the whats that came out of my so whating of his talk.

We spent a good deal of time looking at visual explanations of things, like: the evolution of rock, Napoleon’s 1812 march through Russia, and the origination of the SARS outbreak. Each of these represents an effective model for presenting complex information clearly and building understanding around an issue. Which is great, but…so what? The content is set in stone, fait accompli. Once I understand what it is conveying, the fun’s over.

If you’re putting all this rich data in front of me, I want more. I want to get my hands dirty and interact with it. I want to be able to pull it apart and mess with the variables, to run alternate scenarios and learn from them. What if there had been three fewer days below -20 degrees during Napoelon’s march? What if the Beatles never formed? You’ve given me what is, now let me play with what isn’t and learn from that too. In a digital world we expect more. Models need to become tools. Audience needs to also be manipulator. The marriage of data interaction with design can vastly magnify the “so what’s” asked and answered by a single data visualization, and that, my friends, is exciting stuff.

Emily's mashup of Napoleon, Robin Hood & The Pringles Man. Click For Full Sketchnotes.

Mike

I can see why Tufte uses so many examples of older charts and figures, from a time before people were concerned about projector resolutions and PowerPoint functions. There is much to be said for rendering figures entirely by hand and not having to limit yourself because of print margins or the price of glossy paper. Myself being an aggressive doodler, I was tickled by the fact that when Galileo wanted to show people what Saturn looked like through his telescope, he just drew it right there in line with his notes! With as much as I draw, I still feel a need to keep my notes and my drawings separate, as if they’re two different things. I think that stems from the fact that when I think, I tend to think about things as I would do them on a computer. If I’m taking notes, I open a word processor. If I’m drawing, I open up a graphics program. The two things become separated not because they are fundamentally different (in fact, with the way my brain works, they tend to perfectly complement each other), but because the methods that I use to create each thing don’t get along well with each other. 

Tufte made the point that whenever the methods of information transfer are separated (i.e. color vs black/white printing), the quality suffers. One of the examples he gave was books that had color inserts in the middle of them. Not only do the full color pages feel different then the others (they’re heavier), they’re stuck in the middle of the book and far away from any of their context. All of that leads to an awkward experience and a compromised information transfer. Integration is the key. So if you can’t fit your image onto a PowerPoint slide and keep it legible, it’s entirely possible that PowerPoint isn’t the tool you should be using.

Sometimes Mike's drawings should rightfully remain separate from other notes.

Brad

Nobody is going to question Edward Tufte when it comes to data visualization; he’s not only written the book on the subject, he’s done it four times over, each taking a different (and successful) tack on the larger issue. I was therefore somewhat surprised that he spent what seemed like such an inordinate amount of time during our one-day session extolling the virtues of “sparklines,” a miniature form of data visualization that he claims to have invented. The self-promotion and adulation was obvious and if nothing else, left an impression. 

I suppose that’s why it came back to me several days later as I reflected on the death of Steve Jobs, another famous self-promoter. Steve got a lot of flack from haters about the “reality distortion field” and how he created a cult of personality that tricked people into paying more for Apple products. But I will tell you as a design professional, what he created was no trick. He sold the hell out of it, but without the products to back his claims, Apple wouldn’t have pulled out of their mid-90’s death spiral. I’m betting that Tufte’s claims will be borne out as well, as you can already see on Google Finance (look at “Related companies”) and Google Analytics pages.

Ultimately, though, it doesn’t really matter to me whether the sparkline tangent was warranted or not. What seems more important is the pattern of success Mr. Tufte managed to (unwittingly?) illustrate with it:

• You can be great at your job, making a nice living working heads down your whole career. Those people keep our economy running.
• You can be a slick talker who knows what people want to hear and when they want to hear it. Those people might also have a bridge to sell you.
• Or—if you somehow find the courage, skill, luck, and charisma necessary—you could be great at your job and to get out there to share your knowledge with others. Those people are the drivers of our world and the enablers of our future. 

I know which one I’m not interested in. I’ll get back to you in about 30 years and let you know which of the other two I picked. Thanks, ET.

Brad changes the trajectory of sketchnotes. Purple. Woah.

I was in Manhattan the other weekend and stopped by to check out the BMW Guggenheim Lab, a “mobile laboratory traveling around the world to inspire innovative ideas for urban life.”  While it might not be theatre, it is in fact a stage – with the singular purpose of inviting the audience up onto it to collectively brainstorm ideas for the improvement of urban life; a complex design problem if ever there was one.

So how did it fare? Here’s my official, unofficial review:

Um, Hello?

Entering from Houston street, the BMW Guggenheim Lab has a nice beer garden feel with trees and picnic tables and a chalkboard out front listing the day’s program offerings.  We happened to arrive while a program was underway and found ourselves awkwardly waffling outside, debating between “crashing” the program by walking in or turning around and leaving. Uncertainty led to a sense of unwelcome in a matter of seconds.

Walk into any good restaurant and someone’s there to greet you, make you feel welcome and inspire confidence that this is a place where you want to spend the next hour or so of your life, and you’re not going to get food poisoning.  There was no analogue here, compounded by the fact that as a visitor you aren’t entirely clear what the “lab” even is.  What kind of experience will it provide?  Will it be entertaining?  Are you going to learn anything?  Is anything going to be asked of you?  How long will it take?  Where should you go first?  Is it OK to just walk in?

We stood outside feeling mildly like peeping toms with these and other questions in our heads until I (seeing the glimmer of a blog post) mustered the courage to crash the party and walk in.

Emily at the BMW Guggenheim Lab (2nd From Right): "You keep using that word...I do not think it means what you think it means."

Climbing Over Chairs Is For Weddings

The act of walking in was, in itself, a feat.  The front of the space was loaded with long tables with people huddled around them all engrossed in discussions having something to do with maps and colored pens (we never learned what was going on there).  But to get in, we had to weave through this obstacle course of legs and bags and chairs to arrive at the only landmark I could make out as an official place for information: a podium, with a person standing at it.  Once I reached her, I mumbled something like, “Sorry… is this okay?” I felt like I was interrupting. Like I was in the way.

On the one hand, a crowded room of people earnestly talking about something is a really exciting thing to experience, but it fails if you don’t feel like there’s room metaphorically or even physically for you to join in.

A Breath Of Fresh Air

Next, we crossed a threshold that visually divides the space and entered a completely different realm.  It was open and airy, with people comfortably standing around what appeared to be a chessboard on the floor with sculptural game pieces on it.  It was like emerging from a stuffy, loud banquet room onto a cool veranda where the people you really want to spend time with are hanging out.

We were immediately engaged by a staff person inviting us to play a game.  The game is called Urbanology and you can play it on the Lab’s website.  But what works about it as a live experience is exactly what makes it lackluster as an online experience.  Briefly, Urbanology asks participants 10 yes/no questions on a variety of topics having to do with urban life.  People manning the game pieces (representing innovation, transportation, health, affordability, wealth, lifestyle, sustainability and livability) are asked to respond with their particular issue in mind.  For each question, the majority vote wins and the various game pieces either advance or fall back as a result of the vote.  Along the way, you’re shown the ratio of total votes in favor or against the question that your group just answered.   The game ends by likening the city you’ve created based on the final distribution of the issues on the board to real cities around the globe with similar issue prioritization.

"Urbanology" In Action

What was more fascinating than the game or its results (and why Urbanology as an online single-player game falls short) was how a group of strangers played it together.  Of the approximately 15 people participating, we had a very wide cross-section of ages, races and ethnicities and I’m certain a host of other variables not easily discernible on the surface.  Everyone quickly got into the game.  They offered explanations for their votes.  They asked questions of each other.  They tried to persuade others to see the issue from their perspective. They shared what is important to them.  They listened respectfully.  They engaged.  They gave thought to their position on issues they may have never considered before.  They learned that others, people they might assume were much like them, hold completely different opinions.  They laughed.  They agreed to disagree.  And they respected the majority vote as final. It was democracy in action – albeit a no-stakes version.  Nevertheless, it was a refreshing experience, and reminded me a heck of a lot of the way we design Think Sessions to work.

Unsolicited Design Advice

I can’t say that what I took away from Urbanology was the intended “lesson.” Given the stated purpose of the Lab, my guess is no.  But that’s the beauty of a stage after all, you put something up there and it’s up to the individual audience member to decide what, if anything, they’ll take away from it.

Ultimately, I’d say it was a worthwhile experience cooked up by organizations we admire (though you might want to revisit that website design, guys…) - but if I might make a suggestion: flip the spaces.  Use the game as the entry point, engaging people around the fun they might have spending more time with and learning from the strangers around them.  Then invite those who are hungry for more into the “serious table space” where they can roll up their sleeves, sketch ideas, build off of each other, and – without even being aware of it – participate in the early stages of what is the core of the design process: identifying problems, casting visions, observing and asking, and brainstorming solutions together – another important aspect of democracy in action.

This off-the-cuff description of the site’s personality made me start thinking about how to actually achieve that effect, and how it can be taken to an extreme.

Who is the most interesting person in the room at a cocktail party? Someone who…

• Invites conversation with both friends and new acquaintances
• Engages you in conversation while making you feel comfortable and important
• Tells great stories
• Draws you in and makes you want to get to know them more
• Has personality!

These are not just what gives people that je ne sais quoi in a social situation; these are all things that give a website personality too. A website that has these characteristics is one that stands out from the crowd, draws users in, and keeps them there.

If Your Website Has "Skip Intro" Anywhere On It, It's One Of These Guys

Certainly, there can be some serious missteps in attempting to infuse a site with personality. Here are some cases of website personality gone bad (we originally toyed with including links here, but decided to let you identify your own – you’ll be able to spot them):

The “It’s Got a Great Personality” Website

This is the unfortunate case where the copy is saying all the right things, and the company has a great story to tell, but it’s masked by poor execution: inefficient site structure, visual design that doesn’t compliment the message, and/or confusing interactions. Common offenders: specialty manufacturing sites, benefits providers, and others with deep data repositories, lots of internal infrastructure reflected in the information architecture, and/or exhaustive customization options.

The “Lampshade On It’s Head” Website

This is the wild and crazy guy website with the equivalent of finger guns that is just trying too hard. These sites want so badly for you to be their friend/customer that they appear overbearing and desperate. They may have sleek or even flashy design, and content that’s more marketing-speak and fluff than simple substance and utility. Common offenders: restaurants, slightly off-the-mark advertising campaigns, and start-ups trying a little to hard to break the industry conventions.

The “Wallflower” Website

This is the site that isn’t quite sure how to best let its true colors show, so it retreats in the corner nursing a lukewarm cup of punch – watching everyone else. They blend in among the noise of the web, coming across as generic and revealing their treasures to a small select few…perhaps coming across as cold and impersonal as a result. Common offenders: content aggregators, government sites, and non-profits that haven’t learned that a little personality doesn’t necessarily equal alienation – and that being milquetoast is often worse.

But of course, beauty (and personality) is in the eye of the beholder. It’s important to keep in mind that the characteristics of a website with great personality will mean different things to different industries and consequently, different user groups. The Lampshade website at a financial industry party may look like the Wallflower at a fashion industry party; it takes some smart market & user research to determine what kind of personality your own little monster should have to be most effective.

So let your customers know who you really are! Invite them to converse with you, make them feel important, and tell a great story. Cheers!

As a good (and somewhat anal-retentive) patient, I arrived around 10:00 for my 10:10 appointment. I believe they called me back to an exam room around 10:30. There I proceeded to wait for another 25 minutes until the doctor came to see me, 45 minutes after my appointment time. As I passed those 25 minutes, I heard the doctor spending copious amounts of time with the patients before me; explaining (and re-explaining) how a procedure would work, gushing over another’s vacation photos from the lake house, and generally doing every unintentional thing in his power to work me into a good lather.

ARE YOU READY TO PARTAAAAAY?!?!?

When the doctor finally arrived, he was his usual upbeat, friendly, and approachable self. He immediately apologized for his delay, explaining that the morning’s storms had knocked out their power, causing a 45-minute delay to the start of their day. After a quick examination, he dictated some notes into the EMR system on his laptop and I was sent on my way with a clean bill of finger-health.

Driving back to the office, I started to tick off all the key interactions of that visit that built up to my overall experience:

Check In

The receptionist gave no sign or indication of a delay (she barely gave signs of life), missing an opportunity to set my expectations and nip any annoyance in the bud.

No Cellphone Policy

This office has many prominent “Turn off cellphones before entering office” signs. In this day and age, a policy like this is curious. Is it a safety issue? Privacy? Politeness?

• Pro: There was a large variety of (current!) magazines to read, so my boredom was sated. Well-played.
• Con: I heard so many other people’s phones going off that I eventually ignored the ban took a hit off my Designed by Apple in California crackpipe. Many important things happen on Twitter in 45 minutes!

Doctor/Patient Banter:

• Pro: This doctor isn’t just about maximizing throughput. He spends the time to explain procedures to patients. He gets to know them. He has real human interactions with them. This is a guy that can put me at ease when serious medical issues arise.
• Con: Be aware of your surroundings. Bones and joints aren’t the most personally sensitive parts of people’s bodies, but they might not want all the other people in the hall to hear every word of their diagnosis. Also, there’s a time and a place for everything. Maybe you build time into your schedule to get to know your patients, but when you’re running 45 minutes behind, that’s not appropriate. There’s no need to rush, just level with people and they’ll likely understand. We’ve all been there.

Technology

EMR/EHR systems are becoming the norm. There are serious incentives for practices to implement them. However, with that comes new challenges and opportunities.

• Pro: This is the first time I’ve seen a doctor dictate their notes into an EMR. I’d never thought of it before, but what a fantastic thing. Now I know not only what the doctor tells me, but also what he is putting in my file. This is a great way to pull back the curtain that frequently separates a patient from their records. Remember Elaine and her files? No more.
• Con: Power outages mean servers can go down, batteries can run out. Physicians need sophisticated IT equipment to ensure minimal downtime. When your ISP has a better SLA than your healthcare provider things are a little out of whack.

Overall, my visit was a decent one. I got a clean bill of health and despite the delays, I was out of there in under an hour. Having said that, could it have been better? You bet. I spent 45 of those sub-60 minutes waiting to see the doctor. I wouldn’t call that respecting the client’s time. Ideally, I would have arrived and been immediately notified of the delay, giving me an opportunity to step out and make any work-related calls or adjust my day’s schedule. From there I could have settled in to a good issue of Bicycling and been at least resigned to the delay when the doctor finally saw me, instead of the fired-up state I was in after stewing in various holding patterns for three-quarters of an hour.

These are the things we tend to obsess over at Think Brownstone. Many times they’re minor points, but they can also be the straws that break the camel’s back (or the toothpicks that build the bridge). Crafting an extraordinary experience for your employees, customers, or patients is an exercise that requires a holistic approach including time-honored practices, divergent thinking, and above all an intense attention to detail. Luckily, that’s right up our alley.

Point 1: If everyone did what they loved, we’d have a shortage of poopsmiths

All kidding aside, there are some awful jobs out there that are both necessary and undesirable. Remember Russ’ story about his dad? We should always show respect for the folks who do the jobs nobody wants to do. They are the everymen and women who keep the world spinning while putting food on the table. I’m sure every one of them has a passion in life that they’d rather be pursuing, but reality has dealt them a hand they have to play and they’ve found a way to make it work. In many of those cases, I doubt their hopes and dreams included their two full time, back-breaking, thankless jobs.

Point 2: Just because you have a passion for something does not mean you do it well

I’ve pursued my fair share of passions that I never mastered enough to be a pro in: cooking, glass blowing, and writing, to name a few. All I love, all I find exceedingly gratifying, but that doesn’t make me good enough at any of them to eke out even a meager living.

I realize there ARE people who have pursued “do what you love” and were able to either make a living out of it or became wildly successful. There are many in the former category, but to be in the latter is rare. If you’re putting all your eggs in that basket, you are very likely to be disappointed.

Love what you do and do it well

I’m not as cynical as this makes me sound. Nothing is quite as infectious as watching someone who loves what they do while they do it well. Now, there’s a philosophy I can get behind. See what I did there? I turned it around. It’s not “Do what you love” it’s “Love what you do.” We are all good at several things. Your job as a contributing member of society is to find something you can be good at and have a passion for and pursue that. Passion is infectious.

I’m not talking about primal desire, I’m talking about a deep love and respect for your craft. It’s the difference between that couple that makes out on the couch at your party all night (but breaks up a month later) and the old man who gently pats his wife’s hand with a tear in his eye. The first type of passion is what gives us flavor-of-the-month professions, such as “Pumpkin Ice Cream Scooping Specialist” or “Social Media Marketer.” The second type of passion you see every day in the most successful folks in their profession. Here are some examples:

Music

I’ve made a pact with myself to avoid shows just because “I have to see them before they break up or one of them dies.” I prefer to go to shows where I can sense the passion of the musicians on stage. If I have to choose between seeing The Who and Bon Iver again, I’ll pick Bon Iver. Not because Roger Daltrey is getting crusty, but because I don’t sense his passion anymore. Justin Vernon’s passion is palpable on stage. To top it off, he’s surrounded himself with an ensemble that has not only made his work better, but watching them work together is amazing. If you like indy/alt music and haven’t seen them on stage, you should seek them out.

Food

A recent episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations has him revisiting the renowned Spanish restaurant El Bulli before they permanently closed their doors. If you are into food, check out this episode. Bourdain sits down with the chef/owner Ferran Adrià to enjoy one of their 30-some course meals. As each course is brought out, Adrià gives gentle guidance on the dish, then quietly giggles, coos, and moans as he enjoys his own creations. This is a man who loves what he does, is exceptionally good at it, and has made a career out of teaching and sharing his craft with others.

The cage-free peppercorns are lovely this time of year

I love dining out and I particularly love eating at places where the entire staff shares the passion of the restaurant. They’re not just rattling off a script about the farm-raised, cage-free peppercorns in your salad. They want you to love it. I have a friend who never orders his own meal. Instead, he says, “Bring me what you would order.” Some servers find this frustrating; some just bring you the most expensive items on the menu; but when you encounter someone who crafts a meal they honestly love, you’ll know it and you’ll appreciate it.

The Daily Grind

Most of the people I know work because they have to. Many of them have chosen a profession that they are exceptionally good at and have a passion for.  They get that glimmer in their eye when you ask them about their job, but you still know that if they chose to “do what they love” rather than “love what they do,” they’d be playing guitar on the sidewalk, or reading romance novels all day, or sitting in a meadow counting the clouds.

I am known to talk a lot, but one of the things I like to do at Think Brownstone is to sit back and listen to a Brownstoner or a client when they are jazzed about something they’re working on. If they’re truly passionate, the vibe of the entire room changes. Voices get louder with excitement; people start talking with their hands; someone starts sketching on a whiteboard, someone else jumps up to grab the marker, and whatever we’re working on gets better.

Sure, when I’m filling out my timesheets or working on page 53 of a 70-page requirements document, I might think to myself, “I’d rather be in the glass studio.” I can still do that, but in the meantime, I’m grateful that I chose a craft that I love and, IMHO, I do it pretty darn well.