Kalideascope – a model for idea generation

The Kalideascope is a model that engineers (and other humans) can use to understand idea generation as a structured process. It is concerned solely with the process of generating ideas and not the evaluation of these ideas.

What is an idea?

Our model starts with the pragmatic premise that an idea is simply a new pattern created by mixing together existing patterns in the mind. 

For example, when nineteenth-century French gardener Joseph Monier was trying to find a better way to make flower pots, he experimented with combining concrete (which on its own was brittle) with an iron mesh to create a new idea: reinforced concrete. Monier knew about concrete and he knew about iron; his idea was to bring the two together. 

A material from one context used in another. Taking a different shape and applying it to a familiar form. Applying an emerging technology to an existing field. These new combinations, or recombinations, of existing patterns all represent new ideas. 

This perspective on idea generation gives us two things to focus on in the creative process: what patterns do we need as inputs to creativity; and how do we make the new combinations? 

Introducing the Kalideascope

In his book ‘A Technique for Producing Ideas’, James Webb Young describes idea generation as a process akin to using a kaleidoscope. With reference to our model of idea generation, the bits of coloured glass at the end of the kaleidoscope are the existing host of patterns in our minds. Turning the kaleidoscope rearranges those bits of glass to create new patterns – new ideas.

We call a kaleidoscope for generating ideas a Kalideascope (Broadbent, 2020). The model leads to three distinct steps to a creative process that we can follow:

  • Building the Kalideascope – creating a shared space for idea generation. 
  • Filling the Kalideascope – gathering diverse inputs.
  • Turning the Kalideascope – making new connections to generate ideas.

Stage 1 – Building the Kalideascope

This first stage is about creating the space in which your creative inputs can be gathered, displayed and engaged with. 

While it is normal to gather lots of inputs for any project, we are not always thinking about the best way to gather these inputs to support the creative process. Engineers often approach data gathering from a quality management perspective, ensuring inputs are securely stored and organised on servers. But from a creativity point of view, what matters is that these inputs can be seen.

Think of detectives in television dramas solving a crime: potentially useful information is pinned on a large board so that patterns can be spotted. This clue spotting technique reflects the non-linear character of the creative process: we don’t always know what information will be useful and in what order.

A display board covered with inputs has the potential to fill our field of vision. Yet, many engineers (and other humans) work using a laptop or a single-screen computer. That’s about a twentieth of our input field (even less if we are working on our phones).

So the first stage in the creative process is finding a place to gather our creative inputs that harnesses the scale of our visual field and reflects the non-linear character of creative thinking. We call this process ‘Building the Kalideascope’. An ideal space would be a large wall, a notice board, or table. 

If working in the same place as your colleagues is not possible, then an online whiteboard, while not maximising the field of vision, at least creates a shared collection place. And at the very least, if you are working on your own, dedicate a double-page spread in your notebook as your project Kalideascope.

Building the Kalideascope starts the creative process by establishing the best place to gather all our inputs in a way that allows us to cast our view across them. 

Stage 2 – Filling the Kalideascope

Once our creative working space is set up, we can begin to populate it. We call this filling the Kalideascope. You can prime the process by initially organising content under three headings: 

  • Information – facts relating to the project.
  • Questions – open-ended questions that emerge and are prompt for further exploration. 
  • Ideas – emerging possibilities and insights.

From these starting points, inputs can be drawn from two categories of sources: in the moment (immediate, project-related information) and over time (drawn from long-term accumulated knowledge). 

Kalideascope Inputs in the Moment

These are potential sources for inputs to the creative process that we can gather at the start of a project.

  • The brief – what the client says they want. The client doesn’t have to be another person; it could be you. The importance is to get some inputs from the person who is commissioning the work.
  • The site – no matter whether it is a building, a website or a process, your creative work will be ‘situated’ somewhere. Go to that place and absorb whatever inputs you can.
  • Colleagues and collaborators – their ideas and experiences can be important inputs to your creative thinking.
  • Precedents – similar or relevant work that you have done before. Nothing is new; allow for iteration and repurposing.
  • What comes to mind – our brains can’t help but generate ideas as we work. So we should make the most of the creative capacity and treat these initial ideas as inputs to our creative process. Capture these thoughts and feed them into the process.

Some of the inputs sound obvious, but systematically working through this list can strengthen the creative process.  

Kalideascope Inputs Over Time

The second category of inputs to our Kalideascope is the wealth of knowledge we build up over time that we can draw upon in the creative process. Some of these inputs that we gather over time are accidental; some of them, we can be more strategic about gathering:

  • Deep observation of place – design that builds ecological and social thriving starts with extended observation of ecosystem and community. These are not the sort of observations that you can just pitch up and gather; rather, they take time to uncover or understand. This deep observation helps us understand how the complex systems we are working with behave so that we can use this understanding as inputs to our creative process (see continuous place-based design).
  • Outside interests – the combination of things that interest you outside your day job are unique to you. No one else has this specific range of interests. Bring it into the creative process.
  • Your professional palette – in whatever domain you work in, gather examples of the standard examples of ways to do something. It is the equivalent of the landscape painter gathering and mixing their colours before they go out and paint, or the musician practising their scales. These are the ‘standard plays’ that we develop so they are available in the creative moment.
  • Example projects – As you find good reference projects, keep a record of them. It might be a detail, something that catches your eye, or something that doesn’t look right. If we capture these examples as we go, it is much easier to draw upon them when we need them.
  • Conversations with people – go and talk – and listen! – to a diverse range of people and pay attention to what they say. (Train yourself to be a better listener by using Catalytic Style)

The good news is that our brains automatically gather inputs from the world in which we inhabit. Autosave is on. But to make them more accessible when we need them (and not just available), like an artist, put in the work to curate these inputs – for example, through sketches, mood boards, system mapping or reflective writing. 

Trading posts and the diversity of inputs

Throughout history, trading posts have been centres of innovation because they have been places where diverse cultures have met. According to Csikszentmihalyi (see ref below), cultures are collections of ideas that already exist, which represent domains of input to the creative process. The greater the diversity of cultural inputs, the greater the range of possibilities in the creative process.

If your inputs all come from similar sources— people with the same background, experiences and cultural references— think about how you can expand your field of input.

Stage 3 – Turning the Kalideascope

Having done the work to build and fill your Kalideascope, the third stage is to turn it, intentionally forming new connections between these inputs. 

Ideas often start emerging as soon as we start a project, but creative thinking can often get stuck due to:

  • Cognitive ease— when we prefer an existing idea to a new one.
  • Sunk-cost fallacy— when we stay committed to an initial idea due to how much effort we have already invested in it. 
  • Time pressure— forcing us to the nearest available option rather than spending the time looking for a better idea.
  • Distraction— which can cause emotional stress that undermines our pattern-spotting ability. 

In these situations, we can take deliberate steps to ‘turn the Kalideascope’ and unstick the creative process using the following techniques: 

  • Ask what if— in this facilitated technique for two or more people, we trick the brain into thinking it is solving a different problem and we use this fresh perspective to rapidly generate a long list of possibilities, among which is likely to be a useful idea. (See Ask What If)
  • Use your professional palette— if we have done the work (described above) to gather the standard patterns that are the basis of our craft, then we can use this technique to systematically cycle through these patterns to make new creative connections. (See Using Your Professional Palette)
  • Act it out – this technique gets us to shift from spotting patterns with our minds to spotting patterns with our bodies. By going through the motions of a situation – for example, miming walking into space or using a bridge – we bring a physical embodiment into our thinking (See Act it Out).
  • Go to sleep – this technique leverages two of the creative functions of sleep: one is to give our active brain a rest; and the other is to allow our REM sleep cycle to go through its process of trying our new combinations of all the things we’ve looked at that day – literally doing the work for us while we sleep.
  • Plan your creative routine – Create a daily routine that combines time with people, time managing all the many demands on our attention, and distraction-free time that creates space for us to spot new connections between all our creative inputs.

Building these techniques into our creative process can help to ensure we systematically create the conditions for more, better ideas to emerge.

The Kalideascope builds creative scaffolding

You wouldn’t expect a project manager not to have a plan for managing their project. Nor should we expect an engineer (or other human) not to have a plan for their creative process.

The process of building, filling and turning the Kalideascope establishes the scaffolding for our creative process, ensuring we space for creativity, a wide enough set of inputs and strategies for creating new connections for more and better ideas.

References

Broadbent, O. (2020). How to Have Ideas. In The Conceptual Design of Buildings. Institution of Structural Engineers. https://www.istructe.org/resources/guidance/conceptual-design-of-buildings/

Young, J. W. (2003). A Technique for Producing Ideas. McGraw-Hill.

Ambition Loop – testing viable patterns for system change

The Ambition Loop model proposes that system change is much more likely to occur if three stakeholder groups – users (customers or the public), business (suppliers or service providers) and government (from local to national/regulatory bodies) – form a mutually reinforcing feedback loop. 

When the needs of these three groups are aligned, then they can form a virtuous circle of change that can grow, gather momentum and eventually shift the system around it. 

For designers interested in creating system change, the ambition loop model is valuable test of viability in the conceptual design stage. 

The test is simple: Can I describe a viable ambition loop for my proposed concept?

The model for the test is a stakeholder diagram. To create this model: 

  1. Draw out the stakeholders involved in a system;
  2. Map how they interact.
  3. Draw arrows showing how the desires or actions of each group reinforce the behaviours of the next. 

If we can show using this simple model that our concept passes the ambition loop test, then we have a good signal that the idea has the potential to grow and shift the system we are working in. If our concept does not pass the ambition loop test, then we have a signal that the signal we are working in will resist the change we are seeking to make. 

Once a viable ambition loop can be described, the next stage is to test it as the scale of the ‘minimum viable pattern’. 

Ambition Loops in practice: pioneering doorstep recycling

This is the story of how local grassroots activists were able to begin a process that resulted decades later in legislation – the Household Recycling Act of 2003.

The development of doorstep recycling in the UK wasn’t centrally driven, but was pioneered at local scale, and in particular by local activities from Avon Friends of the Earth, a local-level campaigning organisation. 

The context

In the 1970s, manufacturers were shifting towards using more disposable packaging and ending for instance bottle take-back schemes. Meanwhile, public awareness of environmental issues and the problem of waste to landfill was growing. At the time, the UK government judged doorstep recycling to be too expensive to implement. Avon Friends of the Earth saw the opportunity to prove otherwise. 

Although they didn’t frame it in these terms, we can see retrospectively that they were able to establish an ambition loop between three stakeholder groups that enabled their interests to align.

The local community – increasingly concerned about the impact of waste, with awareness heightened by the rubbish collection strikes at the time. 

Business – local businesses willing to buy waste paper as a feedstock if it could get its hands on a supply. 

The local council – saw that local waste disposal costs were rising. Government also had the challenge of how to deal with high levels of unemployment.

Minimum viable pattern: small-scale collection

In 1976, Avon Friends of the Earth began small-scale waste paper collections that collected household paper waste door to door and sold it to a local business that could use this material stream. 

A key element in this process was creating a viable business for receiving and using the waste paper stream. Environmentally-minded business entrepreneurs collaborated to guarantee a market for recycled paper, helping to get the system moving. 

A third enabling factor was leveraging the government’s existing Community Programme, which provided temporary jobs for the long-term unemployed through community-based projects. Avon Friends of the Earth used this programme to fund workers work in their recycling project. 

These basic elements -public interest, business opportunity and alignment with government objectives – enabled kerbside recycling of paper, and later other materials to be demonstrated. And not only did they show that the initiative was viable, they showed it could make a profit.  

Increasing scale

Over many years, recycling initiatives grew scale and this success of these initiatives gave government evidence that they could confidently legislate for recycling. This activity culminating in the adoption of the 2003 Household Recycling Act, which made doorstep recycling a legal requirement for local authorities.

This example shows that when a simple, reinforcing loop – what we call an ambition loop – is set up, it has the power to change a system. But also, that this change can take years, and even decades.

Applying the Ambition Loop in Design

Step 1 – Identify the stakeholder groups

  • Users: Who are the customers or public involved? What are their desires. What are their pain points? How is the current system failing them?
  • Businesses Which businesses are involved? What are their priorities? What barriers do they face? What shift in operating conditions would make business better?
  • Government and Regulation: Which public bodies are involved? What are their ambitions? What challenges are they seeking to overcome? What in the policy landscape is a blocking change?

Step 2 – Draw a self-reinforcing loop

  • Try connecting up the stakeholder groups in different combinations to find mutual benefit. 
  • Draw an arrow showing how the action of each stakeholder benefits the next stakeholder in the loop.
  • Ask how might the loop become self-reinforcing over time, so that the change can gather momentum?

Step 3 – Find the minimum viable pattern

  • What is the smallest scale that this ambition loop can be demonstrated?
  • Who could you test this minimum viable pattern with?
  • How can you gather evidence that this loop is working?

Why Ambition Loops matter to systems designers. 

The systems that we live with are often very resistant to change. Design that parachutes in a new idea with no reference to the needs of the existing system is risky. There is a great chance that the existing system will reject a new idea unless it can help the agents in the system meet their needs better than they can already. 

The ambition loop model provides a useful test to see how our idea of change might be taken up by the system. If yes, then the idea has the potential to create real change. If not, we may need to rethink our approach.

See also

References:

Schumacher Institute, 2023. Bristol’s Green Roots. [pdf] Available at: https://schumacherinstitute.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Bristols-Green-Roots.pdf [Accessed 10 February 2025].

Future Stewards, 2021. 10 Tools for Systems Change to a Zero Carbon World. [pdf] Available at: https://futurestewards.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/10-tools-for-systems-change-to-a-zero-carbon-world.pdf [Accessed 10 February 2025].

Lunar Sprint: Aligning Work with Living Cycles

The regenerative designer uses living systems as a guide for how to live as part of and contribute to the wider thriving of our living systems. The Living Systems Blueprint is our rough guide to thinking and designing like living systems.

Understanding living work rhythms

One of the dimensions we need to consider is how we relate to rates of work. Very few living systems work at a constant rate; rather, they go through cycles of production and restoration. These cycles of work often mirror the larger physical cycles that we all experience: the passing of the day, the lunar month, and the turning of the seasons. By aligning periods of work with times when there is more energy available, living systems can be more energetically efficient.

Humans in the Global North once lived much more closely in tune with natural cycles. But the availability of cheap energy has decoupled many of our activities from these living rhythms. Yes, we still sleep every day, but the length of the working day does not necessarily reflect the amount of light available. Our system of weeks and months is decoupled from the living world, and there is very little variation in our patterns to reflect the seasons.

The Cost of Constant Output

The invention of the production line in the twentieth century created the ideal of producing constant output. But this requires a large amount of energy to maintain, and in the case of humans, that includes mental energy.

If we want to live and thrive within our ecosystem’s limits, it makes sense to think about how we too can return to more cyclical rhythms of working, ones that relate to the large-scale physical cycles that dominate the living world. This is where the concept of the lunar sprint comes into play.

Benefits of Cyclical Work Rhythms

Working in a more cyclical way offers several benefits:

  • Human Thriving: Creating a balance between periods of work and nourishment that enable that work.
  • Better Tuning: Helping us better tune in to what the living world is doing, allowing us to listen to its feedback and learn from how it works.
  • Energy Alignment: Giving us the chance to align our work with times when there is more abundant energy available in the system.
  • Inclusivity: Honouring and tuning into the rhythms of many people who menstruate, acknowledging their natural cycles.

Introducing the Lunar Sprint

Working with cycles is already familiar to people who use agile ‘sprints’—short bursts of activity to deliver a specific output followed by a period of rest, mirroring how living systems operate. The concept of the lunar sprint is to take the agile sprint one step further and map it to a physical cycle—the lunar month.

The lunar sprint operates between two poles: the new moon, when we think about what is possible, and the full moon, which is showtime, the day when we present our work. Here’s how the cycle of design work could map out:

  1. New Moon – The time of greatest darkness. Time to gather stakeholders and imagine what is possible, what the next phase of work could deliver.
  2. Waxing Crescent – Starting to turn ideas into plans. Lining up the resources to do this cycle’s work.
  3. First Quarter – Focus on producing output. Peak production. Turn off the critical voice and amass ideas. Fill the Kalideascope.
  4. Waxing Gibbous – Starting to edit and improve.
  5. Full Moon – The time of greatest light, when there are no shadows on the moon. This is the time to go live, present your ideas, launch the product, etc.
  6. Waning Gibbous – Harvest, write up, share the outputs, gather feedback. Pay and get paid.
  7. Third Quarter – Give back to the system that enabled you to do the work. Teach, mentor. Sharpen the tools and tidy up.
  8. Waning Crescent – Nourish yourself, read, reflect on what you have done. Rest in readiness for the next cycle.
  9. And repeat.

Living in Tune with the Living World through Lunar Sprints

The lunar sprint includes many of the usual parts of a project process, balancing these with paying attention to nurturing the parts of the system that enable us to do our work. By linking this work to a physical cycle, it allows us to step into living in tune with the living world. It enables us, in the words of Daniel Wahl, ‘to live the question’ of What if we were to live like the rest of the living world?

Role of the Regenerative Designer

Two designers sit on a bench in the distance on the other side of a pond.

All designers work to make things better. Regenerative design is a particular type of design because of its declared goals. This isn’t any kind of better. This is a specific kind of better, in which human and living systems can survive, thrive and co-evolve.

So while regenerative designers do lots of the things that regular designers do, (like developing a design brief, having ideas and testing these against the brief), there are two more things that make regenerative designers different. They must

  1. Hold a vision – hold and continually renew a vision for a regenerative future
  2. Create transition – Continuously be working to create a transition to that future.
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Changing the frame

In social science, a frame is how people understand a situation or activity. We can think of it as how we construct our understanding of a situation. In engineering, many projects are perceived from a ‘cost frame’. People looking at a project from a cost frame build their understanding of the project situation from a perspective of cost. In this situation, cost can be come the guiding concern; the parameter for which we optimise.

Time and quality are other common frames in construction projects. These frames guide our thinking by limiting options, which is helpful in some situations, but unhelpful if you want to establish new thinking. 

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Design brief

In design, the design brief is what we test our ideas against for adequacy. If the ideas and the brief don’t match, then either the ideas are wrong, the brief is wrong, or both.

We often think of the brief as something that is fixed but in reality it is something that evolves during the design process. In this entry we explore the dynamic nature of the brief and the patterns that can help us work with a brief more effectively.

Small b design brief

At the start of this exploration of the design brief I would like to loosen our the definition of a brief to include not just those formal, capital B design Briefs, on Design Projects. If we work with the idea of design being the act of making things better (see the Herbert Simon definition under design process diagrams), then we can extend the design brief as being any time someone is trying set some intentions or requirements for a piece of work. Think of this as a ‘small b’ design brief. Whether it’s designing a new font, or planning a holiday with your friends, or writing a report, it is all design and so each of these have a brief. This is helpful because we can draw our understanding of design briefs from a far wider range of situations than those formal ones in the design office.

Design versus shopping

If you fully know what you want at the start of a design process; if you can completely describe the outcome of a design process at the start; then it isn’t design – it’s shopping.

The point about design is that the answer doesn’t exist yet. That is why we do design. To work with an emergent situation and make it better.

So if we don’t know what want, how can we write a comprehensive brief for the project? We can’t, because of the Designer’s Paradox.

The Designer’s Paradox

The Designer’s Paradox says that you don’t know what you want until you know what you can have. I have always heard the quote attributed to my former colleague Ed McCann, but I have also heard it attributed to Steve Jobs.

The more we think about it, the more the paradox rings true. From ordering food in a restaurant to specifying the fit-out of a building, we don’t know what we want until we know what we can have.

Another version is that we change what we want when we know the consequences. You want something until you realise the cost, or the lead-in time.

And for designers we don’t know what we are going to design until we start designing.

As Ed once said to me, the art of design is resolving the resolution of the Designer’s Paradox, iterating back and forth between client and designer to try and get convergence between what is wanted and what is possible.

Design brief versus the contract

The other reason why we might expect a brief to be fixed is that we get them confused with contracts. But whereas a contract is an agreement between two or more parties about what they will exchange, a design brief isn’t an agreement. Rather it is something that they create. That’s because the design brief is itself something that needs creating – that needs designing..

Designing the design brief and the idea together

I once interviewed an official responsible for the procurement of a very large ship. They explained to me that the project started with a series of high-level requirements, which as the design progressed, turned into a more detailed specification. But ultimately, the brief was not fully known until the ship was finished.

Implicit in this story is an important concept. That in design we develop the brief alongside the design. The two develop together. What is required is influenced by what is possible. What is possible becomes clearer as we work through design and changes what is required.

So how to we make progress?

So if the brief is not fixed, and not known at the start of the process, then how are we supposed to make progress? Well, the answer lies in seeing the brief as something that you develop through the design process, so that by the end, what is wanted and what is desired match. Here are some techniques to start us on this journey.

Catalytic Style

Catalytic style is a an approach to having conversations that helps the solution emerge from the client rather than  having it planted by the consultant. I learnt this approach from Nick Zienau at Intelligent Action, and it is well worth taking the time to practise using it.

The rules of Catalytic Style

  • Keep the focus on the client.
  • Ask short, open questions to keep them talking (what, how, but not why).
  • Offer quick summaries to show you are listening.
  • Don’t offer your own solutions – this is about keeping the focus on the client.
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Seedling analogy – working with what is emergent

Seedling analogy - picture shows a sweet chestnut emerging from a tree tube

The aim of conservation work at Hazel Hill Wood is to help accelerate the diversification of the woodland from commercial forest to a mixed-leaf woodland. Why? Because the more varied the woodland, the greater its likely resilience to a changing climate. Of course, in the normal course of things, the make-up of species in the wood would adapt in response to the changing climate. But these aren’t normal times. Human-induced climate breakdown is causing environmental conditions to change faster than the trees can respond. And so part of our work at the wood is to help accelerate this diversification process. 

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Continuous Place-Based Design

Diagram is titled continuous place based design and is showing a design process in a continuous loop. The four points in the process are observe, brief, idea and model and test.

Continuous place-based design is distinct from its opposite: short-term design from anywhere.

Introduction

Engineers and architects often design buildings, but their true impact is on places—the communities and ecosystems that inhabit them. If we want our work to create genuinely positive outcomes for both humans and the wider living world, we need to move beyond an isolated focus on buildings and shift towards a deeper understanding of place. So how can we evolve our design philosophy to support the creation of thriving places?

Understanding place as a complex system

Places are complex living systems, full of people and other species, shaped by relationships and constant change. In such systems, we cannot fully predict the impact of the changes we introduce. Instead, we learn by doing—by making small interventions, observing their effects, and adjusting accordingly. Long-term engagement with place is essential for truly understanding how it works.

This gives us our first clue: design must be an ongoing process, not a one-off intervention.

A second clue comes from recognising that every place is unique, and that uniqueness becomes even more pronounced the deeper we look. How can we possibly create designs that embrace such diversity? The living world offers a model: evolution. Nature doesn’t rely on rigid masterplans—it works iteratively, testing variations, adapting over time, and responding to changing conditions. The result is a best-fit design for the specific ecological, cultural, and environmental context.

The shift to Continuous Place-based Design

If we take these two starting points seriously, then instead of asking “What do we want to do to this place?”, we should begin by asking:

  • What is already here?
  • What is needed?
  • What is missing?
  • What is beginning to change?

From this foundation, design can emerge gradually—guided by the dynamics of the place itself. Small interventions can be tested, refined, and expanded, always with an eye on how the system is responding. This shifts design from being a one-time act imposed from outside to an ongoing process that works with that place, learns from that place, and evolves alongside it.

We call this Continuous Place-Based Design (Broadbent and Norman).

The key stages in Continuous Place-Based Design

1. Observation

Traditional design often begins with a design brief—a predefined problem to be solved. But Continuous Place-Based Design, with its focus on working with the existing dynamics of a place rather than imposing change from outside, begins with observation.

Observation means more than a desk study or mapping exercise. It requires time spent in a place—experiencing it from different perspectives, noticing rhythms, interactions, and patterns of change. But observation isn’t just the first step. It is something we return to again and again, each time we make a change.

2. Brief

From observation, we begin to sense what is needed. The brief emerges as a way of distilling these needs into a set of design requirements.

In traditional design, the brief is often seen as something to resolve upfront—reducing uncertainty as quickly as possible. But the Designer’s Paradox reminds us that a brief is never fully known at the start; understanding of the brief unfolds through the act of designing itself.

Continuous Place-Based Design embraces this reality. The brief evolves over time, but it doesn’t necessarily converge to a single, finalised solution. Each iteration is the best response for now, while recognising that every intervention changes the system—and with it, the design brief itself.

3. Ideas

The creative phase of the process is deeply influenced by the place itself. Ideas are not imposed from outside but emerge from the system we are designing within.

The designer’s role is not just to generate ideas, but to facilitate the emergence of ideas from place—to see what is latent, what is already forming, what might be supported. At the same time, by embedding ourselves in a place, we too become part of its system. Our ideas are shaped by this connection, rather than being external impositions.

4. Make and Test

This is where we intervene—where design moves from thought to action. We begin making changes to the system.

Interventions can range from small-scale tests to large-scale changes—though an important principle stands: start small, learn, then scale out. Through making, we begin to see how the system responds.

For example, in a housing development, instead of building an entire estate at once, we might start with a few houses, observing how the place changes and adapts before expanding further. The goal is not to eliminate uncertainty, but to work with the unforeseen consequences of our design decisions—using them as feedback to refine and update the brief.

Back to Observation Again

Having made our changes to the system, we go back to observation. But we are not back where we started: the system we are designing in has changed and we too are changed by that process. We become a more integrated part of the system we are designing in, better able to facilitate change that will bring forward thriving in that place.

Conclusions

We cannot learn if we simply hop from one project to another, designing in isolation. The longer we stay with a place, the deeper our understanding grows—and the better we become as designers. Over time, this commitment to learning allows us to create thriving, living places that are much more in sync with their human and ecological context.

References

Broadbent, O. and Norman, J. (2024) The Regenerative Structural Engineer. London: The Institution of Structural Engineers.

Continue reading “Continuous Place-Based Design”