Turning the Kalideascope — generating ideas for regenerative infrastructure

In yesterday’s post we looked at mindsets that might shape a brief for regenerative infrastructure

But once we have the brief established, the next challenge is to have ideas. This where we use our Kalideascope model for idea generation. 

The Kalideascope is protocol engineers (and other humans) can use to develop ideas. The concept is to gather fragments of information that will inform the process (filling the Kalideascope) and then trying different combinations of these fragments (turning the Kalideascope).

For regenerative infrastructure, I see three libraries as useful inputs to the process. 

Library 1 – resilient system architectures

This first library contains examples of patterns of resilient systems. These are about how systems are structured.

In my work I draw heavily on the systems patterns described by Donella Meadows and David Fleming in their respective books, but you can build your own. 

Recurring patterns include: 

They say nothing about how they interact with the living world — this library is about form. But they give us clues about how regenerative infrastructure would need to operate. 

The job of the regenerative infrastructure designer is to fill their scrapbook with examples of these systems in order to feed them in to their idea generation process

Library 2 – systems of ecological participation

This second library contains ways for working with and enhancing ecological systems. These say little about system form.

Recurring patterns include: 

  • Nature corridors
  • Wetland restoration
  • Continuous-cover forestry
  • Patchwork landscapes
  • Ocean reforestation
  • Re-naturalising river channels

These are ways that engineers work with living systems to improve them as nodes, networks and entire ecological systems. 

Alongside Library 1, Library 2 fills our creative process with ways to intervene.

Library 3 – mindset prompts

The first two libraries help fill our Kalideascope. This third Library is a set of prompts to help us turn it — recombining patterns in different ways to create new ideas. 

This library of prompts comes from the mindset shifts in yesterday’s post.

  • What if the living world were the primary infrastructure?
  • What if everything could emerge from the living systems here?
  • What if we allowed this system to evolve?
  • What if mutual thriving were the goal?
  • What if 90% of resources had to stay in the bioregion?

These questions trip us out the rut of conventional thinking. The first responses to these questions are often not usable, but in the kernel of the ridiculous might be something that is possible.

Turning and testing

We can start to generate new ideas by combining patterns from Libraries 1 and 2 and using Library 3 to provoke further variations. 

Of course, not every idea will be good. But that is not the point. We need to generate a wide range of options to see what is possible. 

Earlier in this series, I introduced three tests for regenerative infrastructure:

  • Metabolism – does the infrastructure contribute to a system that operates within ecological limits?
  • Ecological participation – does it support living systems?
  • Resilience – is it will structured?

We can test our ideas against these criteria, and keep on turning the Kalideascope until we find something that passes.

Designer’s Paradox

The concept of regenerative infrastructure is probably unfamiliar to most of us, which makes it hard to define a brief in the first place. 

But remember the Designer’s Paradox. You don’t know what you want until you know what you can have. 

Turning the Kalieascope provokes to think about what is possible so that we can start to think about what we can have.

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.

Le paradoxe du design

I was in Paris last week to deliver a creative thinking workshop for engineers. I did the presentation in English and the Q&A in French — a happy balance that let me be precise in theory and looser in conversation. 

But I got a bit stuck translating ‘the Designer’s Paradox’ in French. 

The Designer’s Paradox says ‘you don’t know what you want until you know what you can have’ (McCann 2001)

Asking for help here’s some suggestions I got during the day.

On ne sais pas ce que l’on veut avoir, tant que l’on ne sais pas ce que l’on peut avoir. 

Translated back into English, this reads as ‘one doesn’t know what one wants for as long as one doesn’t know what one can have‘. It’s a fair translation, but long and literal. 

Then came:

Savoir ce que l’on veut, ou vouloir ce que l’on peut.’

Literally — know what you want or want what you can. It’s crisper and I like the rhythm. But the meaning drifts — it’s more about choosing between reality and desire. 

Mashing these together, I came up with: 

Savoir ce que l’on veut, savoir ce que l’on peut, vouloir le meilleur des deux

Know what you want, know what you can, want the best of both. But that isn’t really French!

In searching for the French version of the Designer’s Paradox, I’ve found another. 

Translate the meaning and lose the poetry

Translate the poetry and lose the meaning. 

That’s the translator’s paradox.