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You only learn when you do difficult things

This is my catchphrase for the start of workshops: ‘You only learn when you do difficult things.’

It is a reminder to expect things to be difficult when we try to do something new. We often learn something in order to make something we can’t do easier. And we should expect to put in some activation energy during this process to reach a place of greater ease.

But if left at that, this is quite a passive interpretation. 

A more active interpretation is to use your sense of what is difficult to orientate yourself to where the learning opportunities are. And this, I think, is the sense in which this catchphrase was meant when I originally heard it. The words come from my friend and mentor in Problem-Based Learning, Prof Søren Willert.

In problem-based learning, we are looking for problems as an opportunity for learning. In these instances, learning isn’t general, it is tightly bound to the specificity of the problem.

Seeking difficult things might actually serve as a good compass for where to focus our learning. A place where there is work to be done, where we can hopefully make a positive contribution and learn along the way. We mustn’t expect it to be easy.

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The past, present and future at the same time

Diagram of the Three Horizons model with three overlapping curves labeled H1 (red), H2 (blue), and H3 (yellow), showing how different patterns rise and fall over time.

In conversations about regenerative design we draw heavily on Bill Sharpe’s Three-Horizons Model because it allows us to make sense of a complex situation. In any group of people collaborating on a project it is possible to find people who are managing the decisions of the past, some who are dreaming about the future and some who are thinking about what we should do next. 

This co-existence of past, present and future so beautifully showed up for me recently as a parent, watching our daughter manage the transitions of the present, dreaming about her grown-up plans for the future, and still wanting the care of a younger self. 

And now I am thinking about it, I recognise these different voices, with needs and hopes, from different times, co-exist in my adult head too.

The power I see in Bill’s teaching is to recognise and welcome all three of these voices at the same time. Last week I wrote about chaos and looking for the signal in the noise. But when we can start to recognise that there are three (or more) things going when we encounter any change, we can start to make more sense of the signals we are working with. 

The future, present and the past are always with us. Recognising them can help us work with them to reach design decisions that are the best next step. 

The Three Horizons model is part of our Tools for Regenerative Design collection.

Explore frameworks like Three Horizons, Systems Bookcase and Living Systems Blueprint — practical ways to bring regenerative thinking into everyday design practice.

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On the Ultraviolet Catastrophe and teaching design

In the first year of my undergraduate chemistry course, we learnt about a concept called the Ultraviolet Catastrophe. This term refers to a phenomenon predicted by classical physics that people could see just didn’t make sense in reality. This was a major problem for physicists because it showed that their theories didn’t stack up. The punchline was that Max Planck came along and explained the phenomenon in a new way, which became the birth of quantum mechanics. 

I remember finding the original Ultraviolet Catastrophe concept difficult to comprehend (although I did think it would make a good band name). And now I realise the only reason we learnt about the theory was to show that it was wrong. In a sense, we were being taught chemistry in the order that the discoveries had been made — in the order that predecessors had learnt.

But does that always make sense? This approach is founded in a ‘positivist’ learning framing. It says, this is how the world showed up to me and I will now pass that story on to you (and then test you on it!). I named our company Constructivist after the more modern learning theory that says that people learn by taking new concepts and mapping them to their previous experiences. Learning is to do with how the world shows up to the learner, not the lecturer. 

And so this leaves design educators with a challenge. In a sense, the ‘Ultraviolet Catastrophe’ moment of classical design thinking is that, as currently formulated, design thinking is not sufficient to make the world better. I see regenerative design as an evolution in design thinking. One that integrates more fully our responsibility for increasing living-system health. And as we are discovering, it has some very different approaches compared to traditional design. 

For the ‘classical’ designers, developing an understanding of regenerative design will indeed be an evolution. But for people new to design thinking, they aren’t burdened with that history. Instead, they have grown up with the climate and ecological crises that previous design and engineering thinking has helped to create. This is not an imagined ultraviolet catastrophe, but a real, unfolding catastrophe. We need to be teaching design for their story, not ours.

[My thanks to Nick Francis at the University of Sheffield for our recent conversation that fed into this post]

[This post was originally published on Eiffelover.com and now has a new home here].

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Design versus shopping

I’ve said it elsewhere, and so now I’m saying it here.

If the client knows exactly what they want at the start of a design process, then it isn’t design – it’s shopping. Shopping for the answer that you’ve already decided upon. Because design isn’t the business of dealing with knowns. It is precisely because there are unknowns that we need a design process.

By all means we should have an initial brief that describes outcomes we are trying to reach. And then begins a journey into realm of unknown possibilities and constraints to find out what might be possible. What we may discover is that that original statement of intent was not quite right. We might find something based on a better understanding of the situation.

And then we get a better brief. Better for everyone involved, including the client.

Consider the opposite. The client sets a tightly defined brief with highly specified outcomes. The designer is forced to the client’s exacting brief, tantamount to a shopping list (and which has probably become formalised as a contract). The designer discovers a better solution but because it is not on the client’s shopping list, it isn’t considered.

And so the client comes back from the shops with what they asked for. But there is no guarantee they are going to fit.

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340-degree vision

I read on a fact sheet that guinea pigs have 340-degree vision. On a horizontal plane they can see almost all around. Imagine! Their only blind spots are directly behind and a small patch directly in front of them. 

That’s because they are prey animals. They spend their whole waking time observing their environment for threats (they can even sleep with their eyes open). And while they can’t see far, they build up a detailed mental map of their surroundings by scuttling around, which means they can navigate even in the dark.

The animals that hunt them, on the other hand, have forward-facing eyes. Their breadth of vision is limited but their acuity is much higher. This focus allows them to spot and lock on to their prey from much further away.

I note that my eyes are on the front of my head. Does that make me a hunter? 

And when we design, which way are our eyes pointing? Are we focused on a pre-defined target or are we continually scanning the landscape to build up a picture?

For the regenerative designer, seeing is much more akin to the latter: building up a picture of the system we are in by continually exploring it. Building our interconnection with place. Searching for symbiosis we can unlock. Looking for emergent patterns we can enable. Then we can know how to act, even without being able to see straight forward.

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Mindset leverage

Are you excited about the possibilities of your next project? Or worried about the unknowns? Do you see the possibility for competition or collaboration? 

There is not a part of design that mindset does not affect. That is because design is an interaction between the outer world of reality and the inner world of perception, imagination and choice.

For me, our mindset is how we see the world – how it shows up for us. Our mindset affects what we look for and what we see when we gather data. It affects the sort of ideas we have. It affects what we hold important when we evaluate options. 

So if we want to change the outcomes of our work as designers, there is merit in considering mindsets. Both the mindsets we bring and the mindsets we create through the processes we set up. 

We shape our individual mindsets through reflective practice. We shape our collective mindsets through changing the working culture. These are invisible tools with huge leverage.

(This is an archive post from September 2024).

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The Schedule

I am sharing today a schedule I use in my work every time the noise from distractions gets too much and/or I don’t actually think I am making any progress in what I do. It was inspired by reading ‘The Secrets of Productive People’ by Mark Forster, a book which, while labelled productivity, has a lot to do with creativity.

I call my process simply ‘the schedule’ and it has served me well for the last six years. Feeling stretched? Time to return to the Schedule. The aim is to keep work focused on a single task but also to allow structured time where the brain can wander and new ideas can come into the flow. 

  • 09:10 – 09:50
  • 10mins break
  • 10:00 – 10:40
  • 30mins break
  • 11:10 – 11:50
  • 10mins break
  • 12:00 – 12:40
  • 1h10 break
  • 13:50 – 14h30
  • 10mins break
  • 14:40 – 15:20
  • 30mins break
  • 15:50 – 16:30
  • 10mins break
  • 16:40 – 17:20

The breaks are as important as the focus time. Both count as work. Both count towards time on a job. Often we only value the active brain time, but sometimes our best thinking happens in between. 

One rule of the Schedule is to stop the task at break time, even if the task is almost complete. The temptation is to carry on, but as it usually turns out, an almost finished task is never quite as finished as you think. What ensues is a period of dwindling concentration and diminishing returns. Better to take the break, come back with fresh eyes and finish the task quickly, and move on.

Of course, few days fully work out like this. There’s fitting in with other people’s schedules. And there’s caring responsibilities. But when things start to feel a bit chaotic (see my post on the Chaos Field), re-establishing some order can help me think clearly again. 

My recommendation is not that you follow my schedule (by all means do if you wish) but to establish a pattern of work that works for your cycle of energy and attention, gives you time to think, provides structure and is something that you just do automatically without devoting mental energy to. 

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Start with your scales

I was taught to start my music practice by playing my scales. Starting with your scales:

  • Grounds you in the practice. The basic relationship between you and the instrument and the sound you can make
  • Reinforces and enhances the automatic movements that become how you play.
  • Takes you through the full range of motions of play.
  • Removes the barrier to knowing where to start because where to start is always the same. You pick up your instrument, you play a scale and you have begun.

Starting with your scales doesn’t just apply to instruments. It applies to any work where you develop a practice, be that a practice of design, facilitation or performance. 

In the technique I call Professional Palette in our training on how to have ideas , I encourage participants to warm up to a design exercise by quickly drawing through all the common typologies for the project they are working on.

It applies whether you are designing a bridge span, an investigation, a workshop or a dance performance. 

Make it your default to start with your scales: go through the range of motions, get all the pens out and put them on the table, familiarise yourself with the full breadth of your tools, and then begin.

(This post originally appeared on eiffelover.com in September 2024).

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Field notes from chaos

(This is another archive post from September 2024 — re-reading it, I realise there’s potential to create a new pattern book motif on chaos, how we work with it, and how we might reduce it for others).

The wind was getting up. The waves were starting to blow in from different directions. The sea scape seemed to be changing at random. The day before, the waves had been rolling in with a nice rhythm.

This is another blog post that comes from the sea. And this one is about chaos. One characteristic of chaotic systems is the rules of the system keep changing. And this seemed to be what was happening around me. The wind was gusting from different directions, the tide was turning, the sun was coming in and out from behind clouds. And all of this was making a chaotic mess of the surface of the water.

Standing there trying to figure out what was going on I started to think about ways of coping with chaos. Think of these as working notes rather than a developed theory. 

Get into the field – the sea looked messy from the shore but only in the water could I really feel how changeable it was. 

The signal in the noise – there can be a lot of randomness but are there underlying patterns. There did seem to be a beat of waves heading in to the shore, confused by another set rolling in from the side. When you find a pattern in the system it is easier to work with. 

Notice when the pattern ends – the rules of chaotic systems change. A pattern in the system is only useful as long as it persists. Look out for the pattern changing. 

Think on your feet – you can’t rely on the normal patterns of working (see yesterday’s post on creating cycles in work). Instead you have to make the most of the situation you are in. 

Learning is difficult – if learning relies on loops of action and reflection, then learning is much harder when the conditions keep changing.

Chaos is tiring – if you are constantly on alert trying to figure out what is going on then you are not getting time to rest and recuperate. 

Writing these notes up I am left wondering:

  • How can we support ourselves, other people and organisations when they enter into periods of chaos?
  • How might our own actions, behaviours and design decisions cause chaos for others?
  • How might we design for increasing chaos as climate breakdown rolls on?

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Harnessing Waves in Our Work

Sine wave running from trough to trough labelled with numbers 1 through 5 at the first trough, where it crosses the x axis, at the peak, where it crosses the x axis again and finally approaching the next trough

(This post from the archive originally appeared in September 2024, and became a motif in the Pattern Book for Regenerative Design)

Today’s post picks up on yesterday’s theme of riding the waves of human energy in our work. The idea is to create a cycle of working that tunes in to our own and others’ level of available energy to create better thriving for all involved. 

For the regenerative designer, the living world often gives us a good template for how to create thriving systems. And so, whether the wavelength we are designing for is a day, a month, a year or even a lifetime, here are some modes of working inspired by the changes that living systems cycle through. I have organised these into five touch points.

1 – Start of a new cycle 

  • Associated with potential and possibilities.
  • Might be a dream-like state.
  • Might be quite slow or dormant – possibly no activity visible on the surface.
  • Gradually shifting into planning.
  • Darkness, low levels of light or energy.

2 – Ascent 

  • Gathering momentum.
  • Plans transition into action.
  • Gaining confidence.
  • Work becomes visible.

3 – Peak

  • Maximum output or yield. Possibly a launch phase.
  • Everything is visible, a point of recognition.
  • The brightest part of the cycle, associated with clarity.
  • Celebration of achievement and milestones.

4 – Descent 

  • Harvest, where outputs are gathered, enjoyed and shared.
  • Reflection on work done, evaluation. 
  • Taking apart or shedding in readiness for the next cycle.
  • Gather resources for dormant phase.

5 – Rest and renewal 

  • Recovery and restoring. 
  • Lower visibility.
  • Less action, slower movement.

Of course, how we spend our time is a negotiation with others. The invitation here is to look for opportunities to acknowledge the cyclical ways in which we work. And to acknowledge more widely the cyclical pattern to the living systems that enable us to thrive.