Eiffel Over

Tag: SystemsThinking

  • Warp from the present to the future

    In a traditional loom, strong fibres are stretched out in one direction, through which a second set of perpendicular threads is tied in. These longitudinal threads are called the warp, and the fibres woven in between are the weft. Together they form the patterns in our fabric.

    The goal of regenerative design is for human and living systems to survive, thrive and co-evolve. This statement describes a future state – a vision for how different things could be. 

    But most of the people we work with, be they clients, colleagues or collaborators – are focused on the present. And if we are honest, so are we. If we were to ask ourselves what we think about most often, the answer probably we would be present-day concerns rather than distant aspirations. 

    Warp threads – linking present and future.

    As futures thinker Bill Sharpe helps us understand, the makings of the future are here in the present. 

    The key to bridging future aspirations and present concerns is use framings that are both relevant to today’s challenges and compatible with the future that we want to build. 

    These framings act as strong warp threads, running through the present and the future. Of the various strands of regenerative thinking, three threads stand out as links between the present and future.

    • Complexity – the character of the present and the future. The present is very complex, and it’s not about to become any less so. Regenerative thinking requires us to work with interconnection and complexity. Seeing and working with complexity is therefore both relevant to the present and the future. 
    • Time – the amplifier of change – whether its through compound interest, network effects or technological acceleration, time has the power to amplify both the good and the bad. Regenerative thinking recognises that things are constantly in flow, evolving and adapting over time time. Applying a long-term view is therefore both relevant to today’s interests and tomorrow’s.
    • Iteration – the means of navigating complexity over time. whether it’s the philosophy of continuous improvement, or the method of iterative problem solving – cycles of action and reaction are part of how we work. Regenerative practice requires long-term cycles of experimentation, feedback and learning.  Therefore iterative working has both currency in the present and the future.

    Complexity, time, iteration – are warp threads that link today and tomorrow. They provide a common language that allows us to address immediate concerns through a frame that is still compatible with our regenerative goals.

    You will see these threads running throughout the patterns in this book. 

    But on their own, they are not enough to guarantee a regenerative future. We can also with with complexity, time and iteration to create other, less desirable futures. 

    What bends these threads is the crosswise threads we weave in between, the weft that bends the present towards the regenerative future. 

  • Preaching to the unconverted

    Cognitive dissonance is when we know something to be true but we don’t act as if it is true.

    In the built environment sector, the cognitive dissonance is that the living world knows how to operate complex systems much more effectively than engineers (and other humans) do. And yet, the living world is not revered and not held as a reference point.

    Imagine if the opposite were true, if we held deep reverence for the most sophisticated of operating system on the planet, this respect would be reflected in:

    • The stories we tell about new ideas and innovation.
    • The design references we put on the wall or use as inspiration.
    • The metrics we track to measure successful outcomes.
    • The way we relate to and engage with living systems.
    • The way we make design decisions.

    In short, deep respect for the living world would be reflected in our culture, which is another word for ‘how things get done’.

    But we know this isn’t the case. 

    Of course, we know the important, long-term work is to shift the culture in engineering and construction to see humans as part of a larger web of life. This is the work of changing paradigms and goals, which Donella Meadows tells us are the highest points of leverage in a system. Movements like Engineers Declare are doing great work at this level.

    But the reality is that most organisations in our sector do not have an ecocentric culture. We have the opportunity to influence people every day, but only if we can help them with the challenges they face. 

    The goal of regenerative design is for humans and the living world to survive, thrive and coevolve. But this isn’t the goal of most people running projects today. Their goals are usually much more occupied with the present: budgets, deadlines, dwindling resources and growing uncertainty. 

    This isn’t a criticism, but an observation. 

    So we need to find a bridge, a way to meet people where they are, tools that help tackle the challenges of today in ways that are compatible with a thriving future. A language that translates into both today’s conversations and tomorrow’s. 

    If we can use a shared language, we can start to close this cognitive dissonance, not by telling people they are wrong, but by meeting people and projects where they are.

    This work is about earning trust, building empathy, finding common ground and helping people do their jobs today in a way that sets the foundations for systems change tomorrow.

  • The Kalideascope

    Some time ago, I took James Webb Young’s kaleidoscope analogy for having ideas and ran with it, building a whole model for helping engineers (and other humans) understand idea generation as a structured process. 

    I call it the Kalideascope. 

    The model has three distinct stages we can follow: 

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

    The Kalideascope can help us work at different levels:

    • For individuals, it provides a structured approach to working creatively on a project.
    • For teams, it creates a pathway for tapping into the group’s creative potential.
    • For leaders, it offers a way to think strategically about the creative processes and habits you establish.
    • For people thinking about system change, the model can help us better see the system more clearly, how ideas emerge in it and the opportunities for change within.

    Over the coming weeks I’ll be sharing posts that explore how the Kalideascope works.

  • Seeing the flow

    Seeing the flow

    Everything is in flow. Rivers and streams. The air blowing our heads and tall buildings. Information. Pedestrians and traffic. Materials, from mine, to factory, to building, to disassembly and on. Facades eroding. And even the mountains (the Alps grow by 1mm per year). 

    I saw on the beach yesterday in Devon a stunning reminder of very slow flow: the tightly folded bands of shale and sandstone on the Hartland peninsula. These were formed when two great tectonic plates collided to form Pangea. Massive tectonic forces causing things to move, very slowly.

    However slow the movement, once we realise everything is moving, we can decide are we going to swim with the current, swim against it or try to shift its course. 

    References

  • Juice the System: a strategy for exploring complex systems

    Last week, I wrote about an idea-generation strategy I regularly use in teaching called Juice the Brief.

    This week, I’ve been working on an analogous method called Juice the System. This approach builds on the Systems Bookcase model, which we use to understand why systems behave the way they do and to identify opportunities for intervention.

    The challenge with complex systems is that they often seem overwhelming—like walking into a messy bedroom where everything is scattered across the floor. The goal of Juice the System is to “tidy up” this complexity by sorting the mess into clear categories using the Systems Bookcase as our framework.

    Recap – The Systems Bookcase model

    The Systems Bookcase is a way to organise information about a system into ascending shelves on a bookcase. From bottom to top:

    1. The Design Shelf

    • For anything tangible—what has been built or created.
    • Examples: buildings, infrastructure, physical objects.

    2. The Operations Shelf

    • For rules, incentives, restrictions, and enabling or limiting conditions—the mechanisms that drive the system.
    • Examples: policies, processes, regulations.

    3. The Mindsets Shelf

    • For attitudes, assumptions, and beliefs that underpin how the system operates.
    • Examples: cultural norms, biases, overarching worldviews.

    4. The Goals Shelf

    • For the high-level goals of the system
    • Example: in our current paradigm in construction, to build things profitably and safely; in a more holistic paradigm, for humans and the living world to survive, thrive and co-evolve.

    5. The Paradigm Shelf

    • Right at the top, the paradigm – the guiding philosophy of the whole system
    • Example: in UK and similar economies, the paradigm of continuous economic growth.

    How to juice the system

    To start, you’ll need some “mess”—raw material to sort through. This could be:

    • A report,
    • Notes from a site visit,
    • An audio recording or podcast, Or any other information source related to the system you’re exploring.

    Follow these steps to organise the mess:

    Step 1: Gather Inputs

    • Read or listen to your chosen input material.

    Step 2: Sort Information onto the Shelves

    • As you go through, pick out elements and assign them to the appropriate shelves:
    • Design Shelf: Tangible outputs (e.g., buildings, objects).
    • Operations Shelf: Rules, incentives, restrictions, or enabling factors (e.g., policies, processes).
    • Mindsets Shelf: Attitudes, assumptions, or beliefs (e.g., cultural norms, biases).

    Step 3: Infer Connections

    The Systems Bookcase helps you uncover how layers of the system interact:

    • A mindset permits certain rules (operations shelf), which in turn result in specific designs (bottom shelf).
    • Ask questions like: what belief enabled this rule? and what process allowed this design to exist?

    Why Juice the System?

    The purpose of Juice the System is to make sense of complex, messy situations. By categorising information, you can identify patterns, understand interconnections, and pinpoint leverage points for meaningful intervention.

    It’s like tidying a messy room—suddenly, everything is in its place, and you can see how it all fits together.

    Whether you’re tackling a large-scale project or understanding the behaviours of a system, juicing the system gives you the tools to start untangling complexity.

  • Playing poker by the rules of noughts and crosses

    This week I am writing about how we make decisions in design. I’ve written before about David Snowden’s way of describing systems using a games analogy (see reference below). To recap:

    • A simple system is akin to a game of noughts and crosses. You know the rules and you can quickly work out the answer. 
    • A complicated system is like a game of chess. There are lots of rules, but given enough time you can work out all the options and choose the best one. 
    • A complex system is like a game of poker. The rules are one factor, but the game is made much more difficult by the interaction between the players. This is the domain of unknown unknowns. It is not possible to determine the best course of action from the start – the best approach emerges. 
    • A chaotic system is like a game with children in which they are constantly changing the rules. Here it is very difficult to make sense of what is going on as the ground keeps shifting. 

    Let’s look at decision making through these lenses. 

    A decision might appear to be a simple question of A versus B. But many factors might begin to complicate the process. For example, opportunity cost of one option over another. Or competing priorities that don’t make one option clearly better than another.

    When we start to include human factors, the picture becomes much more complex. First, there are the vast array of factors that push and pull our own decision-making – not all of them conscious; not all of them we want to admit to. And then there is how the groups of people around the poker table of design (whose interests might not necessarily be aligned) show up and play the game.

    The complexity grows when we we start to consider the interconnection between lots of the factors that we might consider in design: the long-term versus short-term business model, community wellbeing, ecosystem wellbeing, etc.

    Finally, we have a chaotic decision-making environment when the rules of the game start changing. This could be the case when, say, in a major project one part of the team starts shifting the goals of the project without informing the rest. No one is clear anymore about the conditions in which they are trying to make a decision.

    All of this is to say that decision-making is often much more complex than a simple A versus B. So we need to prepare ourselves for decision-making in complex environments. 

    As ever, our guiding principles can be: to work iteratively, and to look for the emergent patterns. 

    Playing poker by the rules of noughts and crosses is a losing strategy.

    References

    Snowden, D. J., & Boone, M. E. (2007). A Leader’s Framework for Decision Making. Harvard Business Review, November 2007 Issue.

  • Losing edge (on the disadvantages of scale)

    In my last few posts I’ve been exploring the relationship between the scale of design team and the connection with the places they are working with. Today I’ll go into the benefits of smaller scale.

    To explore this topic I’ve invented a game as a thought experiment. In this game, teams of different sizes compete in a woodland to build shelters from materials they have foraged. To form their working groups, the participants of each team form into tight clusters. The catch is that only people on the outside of the cluster – the ones on the edge – can do the foraging. 

    Yesterday, I explored the advantages that larger groups have, and in particular the possibility of specialisation that a larger team allows. But this specialisation comes with costs. A big one is the loss of contact with the surrounding ecosystem. 

    In a smaller team, everyone is involved with foraging, designing and building. This interconnectedness means that the processes can inform each other. The process of foraging informs what materials are available for design and construction. Design itself might be a process of trial and error with the available materials. And the experience of construction can inform what materials the foragers need to look for next. 

    The smaller scale also enables the design process to adapt to environmental conditions. If, for example, a particular material is running out in the environment, the foragers can get something different, and adapt the design. Over time, there is even the possibility that the foragers could notice the impact of harvesting materials on the ecosystem. It could be, for example, that harvesting a certain kind of timber encourages regrowth of other species. 

    This constant, direct feedback loop is much easier to achieve in smaller teams—teams with more “edge,” or more points of contact with the environment.

    In larger teams, this kind of information can still be shared, but because specialist designers aren’t directly in contact with the environment, a formal process for transmitting information must be established. This introduces a risk: if designers don’t experience the environment firsthand, they may become desensitised to the information. Seeing and feeling the conditions on the ground creates a deeper understanding than hearing about them secondhand.

    While this is a post about building wooden shelters, it is a metaphor for our actual large-scale design processes, in which designers have virtually no contact with the environment that they are affecting by their design decisions. Without edge – without strong connection with our ecosystems – it is much harder to work in harmony with those systems. 

  • 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.

  • Some things you might not know about the Regenerative Design Lab

    In the coming weeks I’m going to be talking quite a lot about the Regenerative Design Lab because we have a new cohort starting next week. Some of you will know all about the Lab, some will know nothing, so, this quite long post is to help fill in the gaps.

    Beginnings

    Back in 2022, I was the recipient of the Sir Misha Black bursary and had the opportunity to develop my design teaching in new areas. I wanted to explore regenerative design. From what I already knew I realised that this exploration would be better done as a group, and so we set up the first Lab for that purpose. 

    Working with Alexie Sommer, we put together the original advert, and 20 brave people gave us their trust and signed up. About that time I also met Ellie Osborne, a brilliant facilitator, and the two of us have been co-facilitating the Lab ever since.

    The first cohort ran from March to October 2022. Our first cohort of participants from across the built-environment spectrum started digging into regenerative design. Our aim, to explore its principles and translate these into practice for industry. 

    Right from the start we have delivered the Lab with the support of Engineers Without Borders UK. Being regenerative is one of their four key principles for globally responsible engineering. We will be collaborating with Engineers Without Borders UK to share the findings of the Lab in the educational policy space.

    Growing

    Since then, with funding through my 1851 Fellowship in Regenerative Design, two more cohorts have completed the Lab process. We have over fifty Lab alumni who between them are spreading the ideas of regenerative practice across industry. The conversations from these cohorts heavily informed the book James Norman and I co-authored, The Regenerative Structural Engineer. 

    For each cohort there’s a report (accessible here).

    Regenerative design challenges the way we approach design. It’s not just a new flavour of design, but questions the goals, the motivations and how we show up. And so during the Lab, we consider regenerative design from a wide range of angles – including mindsets, systems thinking and how we collaborate.

    A key part of the Lab is spending time in a thriving, living system, which is why we take our participants on three residential visits to Hazel Hill Wood. We see the wood as one of the facilitators, providing an example to us of thriving, a place for congregation and focal point for considering the wonder of this living world that we want to protect.

    Evolving

    Our fourth cohort begins next week, and for the first time we are delivering this Lab in partnership with another host organisation, the Sustainability Accelerator at Chatham House. The focus for this cohort will be on how to create policy that delivers regenerative design. For the first time, this Lab cohort will have two homes, with one foot in the woods and the other in the centre of a city. 

    We are already beginning planning for our fifth cohort, for which we will be partnering with Watershed in Bristol. This cohort will focus on exploring regenerative design with a project context with particular emphasis on inclusion, diversity and power. Cohort 5 will kick off in September 2025.