Design matters profoundly to us all in innumerable ways and represents an area of huge, underutilized potential in life. Discussion of design is complicated by an initial problem presented by the word itself. ‘Design’ has so many levels of meaning that it is itself a source of confusion. It is rather like the word ‘love’, the meaning of which radically shifts dependent upon who is using it, to whom it is applied, and in what context.

So why has the word ‘design’ become so vulnerable and so random? Why has it come to be used in such an arbitrary manner? It has never cohered into a unified profession, such as law, medicine, or architecture, where a licence or similar qualification is required to practise, with standards established and protected by self-regulating institutions, and use of the professional descriptor limited to those who have gained admittance through regulated procedures. Instead, design has splintered into ever-greater subdivisions of practice without any overarching concept or organization, and so can be appropriated by anyone.

Design, stripped to its essence, can be defined as the human capacity to shape and make our environment in ways without precedent in nature, to serve our needs and give meaning to our lives. Whether executed well or badly (on whatever basis this is judged,) designs are not determined by technological processes, social structures, or economic systems, or any other objective source. They result from the decisions and choices of human beings. While the influence of context and circumstance may be considerable, the human factor is present in decisions taken at all levels in design practice.

With choice comes responsibility. Choice implies alternatives in how ends can be achieved, for what purposes, and for whose advantage. It means that design is not only about initial decisions or concepts by designers, but also about how these are implemented and by what means we can evaluate their effect or benefit.

Design matters because, together with language, it is a defining characteristic of what it is to be human, which puts it on a level far beyond the trivial.

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Design is sometimes explained as a subdivision of art historical narratives emphasizing a neat chronological succession of movements and styles, with new manifestations replacing what went before. The history of design, however, can be described more appropriately as a process of layering, in which new developments are added over time to what already exists. This layering, moreover, is not just a process of accumulation or aggregation, but a dynamic interaction in which each new innovative stage changes the role, significance, and function of what survives.

For example, innumerable crafts around the world have been widely displaced by industrial manufactures from their central role in cultures and economies, but have also found new roles, such as providing goods for the tourist trade or supplying the particular global market segment known as Arts and Crafts.

There are significant variations in how the process of change occurs in different societies and also in the specific consequences change entails. Whatever the exact details, however, there is a widespread pattern for what existed before to continue in some form. It is this that helps explain much of the dense and complex texture of design, and the varied modes of practice under the rubric that confront us today. To ancient crafts and forms that survive and adapt are continually added new competencies and applications.

The capacity to design, in short, is in innumerable ways at the very core of our existence as a species. No other creatures on the planet have this same capacity. It enables us to construct our habitat in unique ways, without which we would be unable to distinguish civilization from nature. Design matters because, together with language, it is a defining characteristic of what it is to be human, which puts it on a level far beyond the trivial.

The capacity to shape our world has now reached such a pitch that few aspects of the planet are left in pristine condition, and, on a detailed level, life is entirely conditioned by designed outcomes of one kind or another.

Courtesy: “Design A very Short Introduction”; John Heskett

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Some thoughts in the article from

http://changeobserver.designobserver.com/entry.html?entry=13748

- Everywhere you look in India you will find evidence of the maker’s hand. Signs painted on walls, trucks ornamented and painted with messages, cooking utensils, hand-woven and printed clothing, ritual religious objects, any number of containers made from recycled metals — even the famous jugaad vehicles cobbled together from spare parts for new lives as trucks and tractors — are just a few of the handmade objects. These articles are made with such remarkable ingenuity and embellished with such attention to detail that India could easily be considered more “high touch” than high tech. But is there anything to be learned from this intimate, hands-on, experiential culture that might be relevant to one that is becoming increasingly virtual?

- To the extent that a craftsman is connected to his art through personal experience, that relationship is impossible to replicate. When Indian management professionals, playing up to the current obsession with innovation, ask why they cannot seem to harness the authentically innovative spirit of the Indian streets, they fail to recognize that this kind of knowledge is by its nature unquantifiable. To draw on the ideas of the economist Friedrich Hayek, experiential knowledge is impossible to translate into statistics and cannot therefore be conveyed to any central authority in statistical form. Hayek argues that statistics are generated “precisely by abstracting from minor differences between the things, by lumping together, as resources of one kind, items which differ as regards location, quality, and other particulars.…” The process of generating statistics would thus seem to call for an elimination of the very life blood of innovation that lies in the knowledge of detail, such as only the “man on the spot” may possess. When business decides to disregard “mere detail” in the name of efficiency, it also chokes off the possibility for innovation that derives from the irreducible experientiality of artisanship.

- … (One striking example of this is found) in the unstitched garments of India, the sari and lunghi. The genius of these garments is in their simplicity; rectangles that wrap the body in a variety of ways, saris and lunghis defy changes in size and body shape. Because they are not elaborately shaped as western apparel is, they are endlessly adaptable, and certain classic textiles remain in style year after year. The simplicity of the sari’s shape also gives rise to a spectacular variety in designs of the textile itself, inviting infinite elaboration of color and pattern as invented by the textile weavers, printers and dyers. The rectangle further invites adaptive reuse once it is too threadbare to be worn as a sari any longer. Across India, old saris find new lives as pillows, pouches, ropes, lightweight blankets, hammocks for babies and more. They are even used as fences in Rajasthan. Such applications would be impossible if the original design were not so ingeniously simple, so functionally pure. A new sari would hold the wind too well to be a useful fence, and if its shape were more complex, its afterlife would be limited to ragstock. The sari, therefore, in its simplicity represents a mode of design thinking grounded in adaptability, innovation and sustainability based in craft that is distinctively Indian.

- Hand-painted signs on the streets of India suggest a more individualized agency. Hand lettering follows much of the same pattern of other craft areas but with a wholly different outcome, in that it doesn’t produce a useable object. The flowering of signs and symbols points us to a universe of concrete language. The sign painters are amazingly adaptive as they explore new ways of creating familiar letterforms in a bid to capture the client’s eye and stand out in the crowd.

- Embellishment is not only a means of celebrating life. Sometimes it is also an act of defiance in the face of finitude. The exterior surfaces of dung huts (known as batoda in Rajasthani) are decorated by the women who own them as a means of claiming them publicly as possessions and expressing pride in their beauty and neatness compared to those of their neighbors. Could it be that even the humblest of things — a heap of dung that will soon end up as fuel in the fire — is worthy of the extra time it takes to elaborate its existence, to celebrate it? The maker of the batoda doesn’t usually have the luxury of time, yet she finds the time to make her work special, to take it beyond the realm of the ordinary and the unadorned.

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Although design in all its manifestations profoundly influences life on many levels, it does so in diverse ways. The American architect Louis Sullivan wrote: ‘It is the pervading law of all things organic, and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things super-human, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function. This is the law.’

In that context, it could be argued, form must indeed follow function. Function in design became widely interpreted in terms of practical utility, with the conclusion that how something is made and its intended use should inevitably be expressed in the form.

With the advent of the First World War, evolved a repertoire of abstract geometric forms, that in theory claimed to be the most suitable for the processes of standardized industrial production.  Geometric form being the most suitable in practical terms was instead a powerful metaphor of what form in a mechanized age should ideally be.

However, a more inclusive definition of function is needed, which can be opened up by breaking the concept of function into a twofold division: the key concepts of utility and significance.

Utility can be defined as the quality of appropriateness in use. This means it is concerned with how things work, of the degree to which designs serve practical purposes and provide affordances or capabilities (and the consequences when they do not). Thus, utility is concerned primarily with efficiency, derived from technological and material factors.

Excerpts from the book “Design: A Very Short Introduction”, John Heskett, OUP, 2002

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Basically, concepts of culture can be divided into two broad categories: first, the idea of culture as cultivation, resulting in the acquisition of ideas or faculties expressed in certain styles or behaviour believed to have particular value. A certain hierarchy is involved, in that a concert of classical music is considered more significant than a rock concert, or a piece of sculpture more than a work of industrial design. To some extent, design has begun to be drawn into this sphere, as evident by the number of art museums that have developed collections and held major exhibitions of design. Incorporating design into concepts of exclusivity, often under the term ‘decorative art’, however, has often more to do with museums’ search for contemporary justification than with understanding the role of design in modern life.

The second major concept of culture, and the one underlying this book, is based on a more generalized view of culture as the shared values of a community. In this sense, culture is the distinctive way of life of social groups – the learned behaviour patterns expressed through such aspects, as values, communications, organizations, and artefacts. It encompasses the fabric of everyday life and how it is lived in all its aspects and allows consideration of a broader range of design and its role in people’s lives. It has the virtue of including more elite definitions, but as part of a broader range of discussion.

The influence of cultural values, as manifested in interpretations and meanings of designed objects, is felt at many levels. In the past, and continuing to some extent, very different objects for broadly similar functions evolved around the world, resulting in great diversity. If one examines, for example, how food is prepared, in China it is still widely cooked in a wok, compared to a range of specialized pans used in European kitchens. The food prepared in the former is eaten with chopsticks, the latter with an array of often very specialized cutlery. In these and innumerable other ways, the specific forms are the expressions of particular cultural contexts, habits, and values that have evolved in their particularity over time.

Two main levels of difficulty occur in confronting the specific characteristics of time and place. The first arises from the need to conform to existing cultural patterns, to integrate or assimilate in ways that cause no disruption or offence. The second involves navigating unavoidable changes in such patterns, which becomes infinitely more complex.

Problems seem to be fewer and of lesser intensity if products are simple and utilitarian, which minimizes the possibility of cultural conflict. World markets for a vast array of luxury products, such as Hermes leather goods, that are inherently simple even though expensive can be treated in an undifferentiated manner.

The consequences of not acknowledging the power of cultural diversity can be surprising. In the early 1980s a Harvard marketing expert, Theodor Levitt, achieved considerable prominence with his ideas on globalization, among which he argued that differences were lessening and standard products across the globe were the marketing tools of the future. It was perhaps coincidence, but, at the same time, the management of the appliance manufacturer Electrolux became convinced that Europe should become a single market for refrigerator/freezer units, like the USA, where a few large manufacturers make a limited range of designs. A policy introduced in 1983 to push towards this end proved costly, however, as the divergent cultures of Europe intransigently failed to follow the American pattern. In Northern Europe, for example, people shop weekly and need equal freezer and refrigerator space. Southern Europeans still tend to shop daily in small local markets and need smaller units. The British eat more frozen vegetables than elsewhere in the world and need 60 per cent freezer space. Some want the freezer on top, some on the bottom. Electrolux attempted to streamline operations but seven years later the company still produced 120 basic designs with 1,500 variants and had found it necessary to launch new refrigerators designed to appeal to specific market niches.

Excerpts from the book “Design: A Very Short Introduction”, John Heskett, OUP, 2002

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Packaging and visual imagery can also be a minefield. The former CEO of Coca-Cola, Roberto Goizueta, recounted that, when his company entered the Chinese market, it was discovered that the phonetic pronunciation of the company name translated as ‘Bite the wax tadpole’. The problem was identified before major production began and the ideograms on packaging were sensibly adapted to mean ‘Tasty and evoking happiness’.

In another example from East Asia, one of the stranger illustrations of the cultural perils of globalization was a leading brand of toothpaste, marketed for decades under the brand name of ‘Darkie’. Its packaging had a cartoon-like illustration of a stereotyped, black-face minstrel with top hat, and teeth gleaming pearly white. In its market of origin nobody apparently found this troublesome, but Colgate-Palmolive’s purchase of the Hong Kong manufacturer of this product in 1989 brought unexpected problems at home. A rumour rapidly spread in the USA that the company was selling a racist product and banner-carrying pickets appeared outside its New York headquarters. To appease American critics without destroying a well-known brand in Asia, Colgate-Palmolive sought to redefine the brand name as ‘Darlie’, with a visual redesign to match. The packaging image was modified to show an elegant man about town of indeterminate ethnic origin, but still in white tie and top hat and with gleaming teeth.

Globalization, however, should not be considered only in terms of problems of adaptation or conformity. Theodor Levitt was indeed partly right in pointing out ways in which trends in technology and communications were linking the globe together and in some respects radically altering notions of culture. The influence of globalization means that culture does not necessarily remain dependent on a specific environment, with everyone adhering to the same broad, homogeneous set of values and beliefs. It raises the possibility of having a culture different from those around us.

Cultural multiplicity rather than homogeneity and an emphasis on cultural creation rather than cultural inheritance would appear on many levels to be patterns for the future. Any such transition, however, will not be simple or easy.

The role of design substantially contributes to such developments by creating change in values across national or ethnic boundaries. This can be on the level of products, such as motor cycles and television sets, but probably more powerfully from the constant imagery associated with global television broadcasts and advertising, as with CNN, the configuration of an online interactive site, such as Amazon.com, or the corporate identity of McDonald’s or Coca-Cola. Their ubiquity and widespread appeal can create substantial friction and have attracted attacks from divergent sources, among them French nationalism, Russian fascism, and Hindu and Islamic fundamentalism. These all differ in origins and rationale, but have in common a resentment of new patterns of cosmopolitanism presented by the imagery of global design, in the name of protecting cultural identity. It would be a mistake, however, to identify all reactions to globalization with those of extreme groups. Many people are genuinely concerned about the loss of local control and identity to forces that frequently appear remote and not answerable for their actions. The utility of being able to watch new broadcasts from the other side of the world may not compensate for children being profoundly influenced by imagery and behaviour that can appear alien and threatening. Even on a more mundane level, it is easy to give offence. A major advertising campaign in Japan for an American brand of soap had a man entering the bathroom while his wife was in the bathtub, behaviour that might be thought to express sexual attraction in the USA, but which was considered ill-mannered and unacceptable in Japan.

These reactions cannot be dismissed as the inevitable consequences of change. The role and power of technology are indeed a problem when the ability to communicate simultaneously around the world, a marvellous development by any standards, is regarded as a threat. There are also far too many products and services being placed on world markets in which little or no concern is evident about whether they are comprehensible or usable. An assumption of uniformity in global designs as a basis for solutions can indeed create new problems, when a little forethought could have ensured appropriate adaptation to local conditions.

Obviously, the ability of human beings to create meaningful form spans a very broad spectrum of possibilities. At their most profound level, forms can embody metaphysical significance, going beyond the boundaries of tangible form to become symbols of belief and faith, expressing the deepest beliefs and aspirations of humankind. Nothing in the specific form of totems from Pacific Island tribes or the North American plains, or of statues of Buddha or Shiva, or the Christian cross can even hint at the complexity of the beliefs and values they represent. Yet the significance of such symbols becomes regarded as an objective social fact, understood by all who share the beliefs they symbolize. At the same time, it is also possible for people to invest objects with intense personal meaning that need not conflict with broader patterns of belief in a culture.

Excerpts from the book “Design: A Very Short Introduction”, John Heskett, OUP, 2002

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Some interesting tit bits on CRAFTS and DESIGN from http://www.americancraftmag.org/blog-post.php?id=11574&ref=nf

Why Crafts Now?

Because craft is a seed.

Because mass production needs to be rethought, and craft is the springboard that will put this into motion.

It is inextricable with material curiosity and human evolution. It is the foundation from which new objects enter the known universe.

Because the objects and production systems around us now need to be better.

New and better ways of making things are waiting to emerge. New and better objects are waiting to be. When they do emerge, most will depart from our idea of craft, but without it they must not be developed. Craft and hand-knowledge must always remain the driver of intelligent and healthy human evolution. However, if manifestation and definition of craft is kept static, human/object relations will continue to evolve without it, and this could be a very dangerous path to follow.

…There is a growing desire and need for people to customize their own environments and experiences, and craft can rightfully reclaim this territory as its own.
…In addition, craft has a key role to play as a form of resistance to corporate culture and the high-tech landscape. Objects made and experienced by hand provide richly sensual antidotes to the eviscerated, simulated screen experiences we consume for hours each day. Highly invested handmade objects can assist in our sensual vigilance within an increasingly dematerialized world, helping to rouse us out of enervation and sensory numbness.

…What is “our” idea of craft?

How is craft situated in a global culturescape?

How can craft be simultaneously understood as a verb, noun and adjective?

Who makes craft now?

What is the relationship between sustainability and craft?

What can we do to better understand how class, gender, race, ethnicity and migration figure in the craftscape?

What institutions/vehicles currently in place serve craft well right now?

How does craft connect to broader communities for example, how are craft-based museums situated in the world of museums overall?

In a world focused on moving through the now and onto the next, can craft be at the table to reshape the future?

What is craft now?

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

A designer definitely learns from his client.

Knowledge that is used in the design process may originate from people and in places far removed from the current project. An interesting question to ask here is ‘Who is responsible for bringing this knowledge to bear on this particular project?’ Include a long list of people like the client, users, the designer and other members of the design team and those in positions of influence and power over what is eventually done.

This brings into light the question of “brief” and that of “good briefs”. A brief ‘only describes the objectives and is a sort of mission statement’ and it evolves through a continuous process and an integral part of the process of designing rather than some precursor to it. Many designers report a tendency of clients not to be able to see where the real possibilities lie when developing their brief, and thus designers may have a tendency to want to fully explore these issues for themselves.

However, it is often not easy for clients to express briefs in this kind of way. A client formulating a brief has no theoretical mechanism for determining when the brief is complete. It often turns out to be the case that quite important things are not included simply because the process of assembling the brief did not trigger them as ideas for inclusion.

It is interesting to see the distinction between what is important and what is critical. A client may see some objectives in the brief as considerably more important than others. Indeed it is not unknown for a client to have only relatively few really important objectives in a brief that might none the less be very extensive. However, designers may not necessarily attend to those matters as much as clients expect since they may be perceived by the designer as not ‘critical’. Critical constraints then are those that are most strategic in terms of the effect they have on the final form of the design and which most interact with other constraints, and which significantly impact on the range of options available.

Without experience as a designer, and in particular knowledge of a wide range of design solutions and their characteristics, it is difficult to understand what knowledge is important, when it is needed and why in the design process. In fact there is no theoretical way of knowing this.

A piece of information may be critical and needed early in one design project since it has a strategic impact on the solution, but the same kind of information in another project may not. This will depend on all the other constraints which are at work in each case. Thus the idea that briefing is an early stage in the design process that consists of a one-way flow of information from client to designer, although persistent, is extremely misleading. In fact briefing is an integral part of designing and is more sensibly seen as a continuous and highly interactive way of eliciting knowledge.

For these reasons briefing is probably best managed by designers, either those working on the project or at least others having a real practising experience of designing. This could also account for the widely reported problems of using project managers in this role in design.

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

As a part of the residential spaces project, students of the interior design department displayed their work.

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org

Copyright : http://changeobserver.designobserver.com/feature/what-social-entrepreneurship-can-teach-social-design/15148/

Applying principles from a well-established practice to a brave new world.

In the past few years, considerable progress has been made in bringing design attention to areas of social inequality. An emerging field, however, social design lacks the established educational and career paths that exist for other areas of design. As a professor at the University of Cincinnati and a director of a nascent design nonprofit, Design Impact (DI), I’m often approached by young designers asking: What knowledge do I need to get into social design? What skills should I develop that I didn’t learn for my design degree? What social design opportunities are out there? How do I begin?

Two years ago, I attended the Better World by Design conference in Providence, Rhode Island. There, I was surprised to discover that many of the panelists weren’t designers, but entrepreneurs and realized that young designers interested in this field may find assistance from the well-established field of social entrepreneurship. One source of insight is J. Gregory Dees’s influential article “The Meaning of Social Entrepreneurship,” which lays out the differences between social and traditional orientations of entrepreneurship, identifying a few areas where social entrepreneurs need to have expanded knowledge. Adapting the same concepts to designers — a strategy I use in the paragraphs below — provides some insight into what they need to thrive in the social design arena.

Dees begins his article with an explanation of the term entrepreneur. Among the attributes he lays out is that “entrepreneurs have a mindset that sees the possibilities rather than the problems created by change.”

I would define designers foremost by their ability to communicate visually. However, that is not all they do. Designers have learned to pair visual communication with techniques that stimulate creativity and unearth consumer insight, and to use this understanding to gain an inclusive view of the product, company and consumer. For instance, product designers need to understand how an object will be manufactured, used and marketed within a portfolio of other products. Additionally, designers of various specialties all possess technical knowledge that gives them specific value within a traditional business setting. In the case of graphic designers, such knowledge may take the form of understanding print production or the sourcing of recycled paper. The abilities of a successful designer are also needed in social design, along with knowledge of the social sector, competence in networking and dedication to putting social impact before design itself.

According to Dees, “Social entrepreneurs do not let their own limited resources keep them from pursuing their visions. They are skilled with doing more with less and attracting resources from others.”

Successful social design programs require management, fundraising, design and engineering. Insufficient funding means that there is rarely the structure in place to provide projects with all of these components. While social designers have developed a variety of creative ways to locate funding and organize projects around limited resources, tight budgets often force designers to learn to wear many hats. In adapting to these situations, it is essential for designers to recognize their limitations and network with others to fill project needs.

Sitting across from Anil Gupta in his office at the Indian Institute of Management (IIMA), I found it hard not to be struck by the importance of networking as the space filled with colleagues from IIA, the Honey Bee Network (HBN), the National Innovation Foundation and the Grassroots Innovation Augmentation Network. Representatives of these organizations were working together to identify and develop Indian innovations welling up from the bottom of the pyramid, in a microcosm of the collaborations the groups are trying to foster. HBN has created a matrix of thousands of rural innovators that enables them to support each other and share solutions. Twice a year, the organization brings together diverse inventors, scientists, farmers and students to visit Indian villages, looking for new ideas and technologies. The cross-pollination resulting from the database of these concepts has led to the successful development of many products and businesses.

Attracting resources also means securing funding for social design projects. I have dealt with this struggle firsthand through my work establishing a design nonprofit, Design Impact. After a year developing the idea for DI, I and my colleagues made a pitch to the leadership team at Kaleidoscope, a 70-person design firm based in Cincinnati. We explained that the opportunity to work on social-impact projects would increase Kaleidoscope’s employee morale and that support of DI and the emerging social design movement could be a differentiator with clients. Our presentation resulted in funding for a two-and-a-half-year pilot project. Kaleidoscope also agreed to contribute staff time. Although we did not set a specific monthly target for support, over the first 12 months Kaleidoscope provided 1500 hours. Thus far, the relationship has been deemed beneficial by both sides.

According to Dees, “Profit is not the gauge of value creation; nor is customer satisfaction; social impact is the gauge.” Yet one of the most difficult parts of social design is measuring and understanding the quality and scope of a project’s influence. There is ongoing debate as to how to measure effects and even what constitutes “positive” social impact. These debates are fueled by the ambiguous nature of social impact versus purely financial impact and by the differing ethical and moral values that people bring to projects. Even though there are not universally agreed-upon metrics for measuring impact, it is important for social designers to educate themselves on this topic. Paying attention to the ongoing conversation, reading broadly about development, economics and sociology, and getting to know the local context you’re working in are all important ways to evaluate outcome.

In addition to grappling with impact, social designers will find themselves in areas and partnerships that are different from their traditional surroundings and associates. Those familiar with for-profit structures may now have to know nonprofits. They may also need to understand low-income-consumer trends, which differ greatly from middle- and upper-income consumer trends. Also, social designers may need to know new modes of production, communication and distribution. In order to absorb all of this information, they must rely heavily on advice from the intended user as well as professionals from other fields.

The nuances of understanding impact were apparent last year at the Villgro Unconvention, a conference promoting social enterprise in India. I was surprised to hear a heated debate over the U.S.-based company D.Light, which works to replace kerosene lanterns with safer solar-powered lights. D.Light offers well-developed analyses of the health, economic and education benefits of their products and has received over $10 million in grant and venture funding to implement its designs. Even so, the company’s representative, Mariette Fourmeaux, was heavily challenged by her fellow panelists, all of whom worked for rural electrification in India. They claimed that D.light’s status as a foreign company and mandate to serve social investors detracted from its ability to maximize social impact for rural Indians. This debate showcases how even a highly regarded, well-documented intervention can be challenged due to a difference in ethics and values.

DI’s work in India is pursued through a cross-sector, multi-disciplinary approach, and our partners have taught us new ways of assessing and solving problems. We are collaborating with the nonprofit Organization for Development, Action, and Maintenance (ODAM) to build a rural enterprise around a charcoal-based fuel alternative to wood. The project team consists of a designer, an organizational developer, an agricultural expert, a chemist, a biologist/field researcher, a marketer and many cooks. This diverse group makes it possible to develop an understanding of the varied distribution channels, complicated retail landscapes, science involved in fuel combustion and specific expectations users have for cooking, all of which are needed to launch this product successfully.

Social entrepreneurs, says Dees, “make sure they have correctly assessed the needs and values of the people they intend to serve and the communities in which they operate. In some cases, this requires close connections with those communities.” Similarly, it is vital that social-impact designers put the needs of the community they are serving above all else. This may seem obvious — designers generally work with the user in mind and push their designs to fulfill the user’s desires. But in traditional design, such interests are matched with the needs of the business, producers, and even designers themselves. Social design must step back from that balanced approach and put users at the fore of all design activities. Only then is it possible to honestly make an impact, not merely create a well-designed object.

The biomass stove design team at Prakti Design in Pondicherry, India, has developed an exemplary method for product development that places the user at the process’s core. Prakti’s onsite research center employs local users to test and record their impressions of the stove prototypes. A few expert users cook with a set of six stoves each day and record the experience. Additionally, in home usage trials, a professional researcher regularly checks in with families to record feedback. This multi-level application of user insight, matched with the inclusion of the user as an equal and paid part of the project team, allows for Prakti to design appropriately
.
At DI we believe that ownership and leadership of any design intervention needs to come from the community. Our process places a designer within a local nonprofit for several months, allowing time to learn about relevant needs and assets. In our current work with ODAM, we’ve spent a great deal of time building the organization’s capacity to manage and assume leadership of the projects, while we’ve provided important design services. This year long-stay, matched with constant community feedback and organizational capacity-building, enables ODAM to implement new, community-centered programs that will benefit the local environment, health and economy.

“Social entrepreneurs are one special breed of leader, and they should be recognized as such.” –Gregory Dees

My elaboration of Dees’s article is just one example of how designers who engage with social entrepreneurship can gain insights into social design. However, this is not the only available model. Just as only a small percentage of the general population exhibit entrepreneurial traits, not every designer can be an entrepreneur. This should not discourage designers interested in social impact from pursuing their goals. Social design will require many types of leaders for it to grow into an established field. Advocates in the corporate sector, agitators in the schools, angels in the consulting sector and many others will need to take part to realize a more socially driven design profession that can sustain itself into the future.

- MAMTA MANTRI

mamta@archedu.org