Tag: AbundanceMindset

  • Cooking with what’s in the cupboard

    My thanks to Jen Ford of Factory X for this analogy. Regular design is like thinking to yourself, “what do I want for dinner?” then going to buy the ingredients from the supermarket. Circular design is more like seeing what’s in the cupboard and thinking creatively about what you can make.

    This shift in approach represents a different relationship with our cooking supply chain. The goals might still be the same: to eat something; to care for someone through providing them with food; maybe to eat healthily; possibly to spend time with family or friends around a meal. But the starting point is different: not what do I want but what do I have to work with.

    I was writing earlier this week about how an improv clown in a theatre works with the audience. They have to work with what is there – they can’t decide in advance how they want the world to be. But they can work with the audience dynamics to create something entertaining with the emotions the clown is able to generate.

    More generally, when we work with what is already present in the system, we have the potential to create a much lower energy solution. If we are working with a material that the system already produces: eg an existing waste stream or renewable resource, then we can create much tighter feedback loops that balance our choices against what’s available.

    But perhaps most excitingly, for the cook, for the clown and the engineer, working with what’s in the cupboard is a much more engaging creative challenge. Walking around the world, we start to see ingredients we can use – the world starts to reveal itself in new ways.

    So, what will you cook for dinner this evening?

  • Seeing the latent potential

    This post has moved.
    It now lives on the Constructivist blog: read the updated version →

    Eiffel Over is now my stage for engineering-related clowning, singing, dancing and writing — you’ll find my professional writing on design and regenerative thinking over at Constructivist.

    As Rob Hopkins points out in his wonderful book From What Is to What If, the climate crisis is, at its core, a crisis of the imagination. If we can’t envision a thriving world, we won’t be able to create it.

    A key skill in regenerative design is cultivating the conditions that allow us to imagine this thriving future.

    This requires us to not only see what exists but also to imagine what could be. For example, looking at an empty park and envisioning it full of people running (as highlighted in yesterday’s post), or standing on a traffic-filled street and picturing it so quiet that birdsong fills the air and people stop to chat.

    In these cases, the elements are already present—they are latent. But to unlock this latent potential, we must recognise both the desertified present and the abundant possibilities. Only then can we begin to design the next step toward that vision.

    Equipping ourselves for this imaginative work is, I believe, a critical part of becoming a regenerative designer.

    Hopkins, R., 2019. From What Is to What If: Unleashing the Power of Imagination to Create the Future We Want. Chelsea Green Publishing, White River Junction, VT.

  • From no run to park run

    A few days ago, Parkrun turned 20 years old. What started as a simple community gathering, launched by Paul Sinton-Hewitt on October 2nd, 2004, has grown into a global sports phenomenon with over 7 million registered participants. It began as a way for people to come together and socialise, and it’s evolved into so much more.

    I’m an occasional Parkrunner myself, showing up every now and then to run the 5km loop at my local park. And I often wonder: what would all these people have been doing otherwise? Twenty years ago, at 9am on a Saturday, this park might’ve had a handful of runners. Today, hundreds gather to run.

    To me, Parkrun is a story of what happens when something unlocks the potential in a system, creating abundance where there was once scarcity. Where there were only a few runners, now there are many. Where people might have spent their Saturday mornings passively at home, now they’re out in the fresh air, moving, connecting, and engaging with their community.

    What’s remarkable about Parkrun is that it’s powered by volunteers—ordinary people who freely give their time to make these events possible. This time and energy were always there, untapped, waiting for an outlet. Parkrun created that structure, unlocking this latent resource.

    In many ways, this is the essence of regenerative design: seeing potential abundance in situations that seem scarce. Parkrun didn’t introduce new people or new resources into these communities; it simply provided a framework that allowed people to organize and engage. The potential was always there—it just needed to be brought to life.