Tag: RDL

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Two places, two cohorts: the Regenerative Design Lab in 2027

In 2027, we’re running two parallel cohorts of the Regenerative Design Lab for the first time.

RDL Hazel — Cohort 8 will return to Hazel Hill Wood near Salisbury, the home of the Lab since its early days.

RDL Beeches — Cohort 9 will be our first full programme at the Beeches in the Hope Valley, between Sheffield and Manchester — establishing a new home for the Lab in a landscape shaped by its natural and industrial heritage.

Both will run from spring to autumn 2027, bringing together up to 20 people for an eight-month exploration of what it means to put regenerative design into practice.

Explore RDL Hazel
Explore RDL Beeches

Eight months to experiment

The Regenerative Design Lab isn’t a conventional training course.

Participants bring an enquiry into the Lab and use the eight months to explore it in practice: taking action, paying attention to what happens, reflecting with others and deciding what to try next.

That’s important because working with complex systems takes time. The point isn’t simply to learn a set of regenerative design models. It’s to discover what happens when we try to use these ideas in real projects, organisations and lives.

And the enquiry often changes.

Some participants begin with a broad interest and gradually find the particular place where they can act. Others arrive with a specific technical or organisational challenge and discover that it connects to much bigger questions.

Recent participants have explored regenerative business strategy, timber house manufacturing, social infrastructure, circular construction, nature-based transport, engineering commons, organisational redesign, sustainable lighting, urban ecology — and how we choose to spend our time.

Learning to continue without us

The Lab combines residential gatherings, online workshops, individual experimentation and peer-led enquiry.

At the beginning, we provide more of the structure: introducing regenerative thinking, systems approaches and patterns and tools from the Pattern Book for Regenerative Design .

Over time, participants increasingly support one another, forming working groups around shared patterns, questions and interests.

That’s deliberate. Our ambition is to create a group that eventually doesn’t need us: practitioners with the confidence, relationships and capacity to continue experimenting and making change for themselves.

And after the eight months, participants join a growing RDL alumni network that now reaches across organisations and disciplines throughout the built environment.

Who is the Lab for?

We’re interested in people with the capacity to influence.

That doesn’t mean seniority. Previous cohorts have included people at very different stages of their careers, working across engineering, architecture, policy, education, sustainability and other parts of the built environment.

What matters is having somewhere to take the learning — a project, organisation, community or field of practice — and being willing to experiment, question your assumptions, learn with others and bring others with you.

Applications for both 2027 cohorts will open in November. Each is limited to 20 participants, and we’ll begin reviewing and shortlisting applications on a rolling basis from early December.

Find out about RDL Hazel — Cohort 8

Find out about RDL Beeches — Cohort 9

Or, if you’re new to the Lab, find out how the Regenerative Design Lab works

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When a group of learners becomes a living system

All week we’ve been interviewing candidates for Cohort 6 of the Regenerative Design Lab. With such a strong range of applicants, it’s been a real privilege to spend time with so many thoughtful, committed humans.

And it’s not just us asking the questions.

Candidates ask us questions too, as they decide whether they want to commit to this journey. One question, in particular, keeps coming up, what does a good outcome for a cohort look like?

Over the week, my answer has been converging on a clear image.

The Lab is a facilitated, carefully scaffolded process. We design the conditions, hold the space, and guide the learning. But that’s not the end goal.

Over time, something else begins to happen.

Cohorts start to form their own connections.
People rely on one another, not just on the facilitators.
Support, challenge and learning begin to circulate within the group.

The process starts to become mutual.

Participants bring energy, insight and care — and receive it in return. The cohort starts to function less like a programme and more like a living system, sustained by the quality of its relationships.

As confidence grows, the group becomes more able to respond to what emerges. New questions surface. Directions shift. The cohort adapts — not because it was pre-designed to do so, but because the conditions allow it.

Our hope is that, over time, a cohort develops enough of its own energy to sustain itself. That it unlocks the abundance already present in the group, rather than relying on continued external input.

When that happens, the role of facilitation begins to fall away.

The cohort can fly on its own.

Not dependent on us.
Not dependent on funding.
Sustained by what participants create, share and renew together.

Interconnection.
Symbiosis.
Capacity to adapt.

A system that draws on renewing, abundant resources rather than depletion — and continues because it wants to, not because it is being held in place.

For me, that is a deeply regenerative outcome.

Living Systems Blueprint
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How do you write a contract based on regenerative values?

Today I’ve been thinking about that question as we finalise the participant agreement for the Regenerative Design Lab. People are about to hand over their money, and that deserves clarity. But it also raised a deeper question: what would a contract look like if it genuinely reflected the regenerative values we teach — interdependence, emergence and abundance?

Most contracts start from a worldview of separation, scarcity and control:

  • You are the customer
  • We are the provider
  • Something might go wrong
  • Let’s protect ourselves

That’s not unreasonable. But it’s also not how the Lab really works.

The quality of the Lab doesn’t come from what we deliver. It emerges from how people show up, support one another, care for each other, sit with uncertainty, and learn together.

So instead of asking “how do we protect ourselves?” we tried asking different questions:

  • How do we bring people together?
  • How can we remain flexible and adapt to what is emerging?
  • How do we unlock the potential of the group?

Interdependence

Interdependence is about our reliance on one another. The Lab works because the group forms a shared connection, grounded in care, trust and mutual support. This isn’t a group of co-located parallel learners — it’s a learning community.

The agreement makes this explicit. It names that interdependence and sets some simple ground rules to help it establish itself.

Emergence

Most contracts try to fix things in place: you get this, I get that. Valuing emergence is different. It means relinquishing some control so that the best outcomes can arise through a series of complex interactions.

There’s nothing wrong with having a plan — and we do have a detailed plan. But we’re also clear that the programme can evolve in response to what happens along the way.

Trust plays an important role in working like this. Being honest upfront about the emergent nature of the work helps turn uncertainty into a shared expectation rather than a disappointment.

Abundance

Abundance was the hardest value to translate into a contract. It’s the opposite of a scarcity mindset, and it doesn’t show up as anything goes.

Instead, it appears in small choices:

  • Offering tiered pricing based on what people can afford, trusting there will be enough overall to cover costs — and ending up with a richer mix of participants as a result.
  • Recognising that circumstances change, and allowing people to move between cohorts where possible.
  • Creating Creative Commons–licensed tools, based on the belief that we don’t need to control what we create — that value grows through sharing, and that there will be enough to continue the work.

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In the end, the agreement isn’t long. This isn’t a perfect or complete solution — it’s an attempt to align a practical document with how the work actually happens.

I hope it feels like an invitation into a particular way of working. Most importantly, it helps transmit our values right at the start of the process.

Changing Mindsets
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Big news — Cohort 6 Applications for the Regenerative Design Lab are now open

Our big news this week is that the application process is now open for Cohort 6 of the Regenerative Design Lab. 

Here’s some things that make this moment particularly significant

This is an open lab — unlike the previous two labs where we had focused more explicitly on policy, this lab is for people interested in applying regenerative thinking across a wide range of contexts. We haven’t had an open lab like this for two years, so we are expecting a large number of applicants. 

Policy makers are still very welcome, and you’ll be working alongside designers and built-environment professionals to explore regenerative thinking in practice.

With this lab, our community of past and present participants will exceed 100. The network effect of this many activated change-makers is potentially huge.

The fly-wheel is spinning — with each revolution of the lab, we add more momentum: insights, tools, learning from taking action. It gives each cohort the potential to go further. 

We have a text book — the Pattern Book for Regenerative Design is our manual for developing regenerative conservations with a wide range of audiences.

So are you ready to apply to join this journey? If so, we’d love to receive your application.

Regenerative Design Lab — Cohort 6
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Feedback = understanding

I’m grateful to my friend and Regenerative Design Lab colleague Ellie Osborne for this model. 

On the second day of our Cohort 5 Autumn Residential, we were sitting around the fire discussing interconnection in design. More explicitly, how connected do we feel to the places where we take materials from to build our buildings. 

A key factor in how regenerative systems stay in balance is through local feedback loops: knowing how much material is available and how much can be used without causing harm.

The feedback loop gives information about what is available. But perhaps a more human way to understand this feedback is to think of it as understanding. 

If a developer decides to build a new building in the city using material dug from just outside the suburbs, I am likely to have a much stronger view about this decision than if the material comes from a distant place I have never heard of.

I have an understanding of what it would mean to double the size of the open-pit mine if it were right here, compared to elsewhere. 

Now, mining, at small scale, can have a positive impact on habitats, and has been an important part of human construction for millennia. But that’s not the point. 

The point is, the closer the site, the stronger the feedback. The stronger the feedback, the stronger the understanding.