Your memory of this experience is most likely based on interactions occurring within its highest, or lowest, moment and its end, rather than the total sum or average of every moment within the experience. You may be able to remember all other information, but your judgment doesn’t take that into account. This phenomenon is known as the “peak-end rule”. Regardless of how pleasant or how long the overall experience was, a judgment was made based on peak moments of experiential intensity.

Peak Moments Matter

In Chip & Dan Heath’s The Power of Moments, the authors point out that on a seven point scale (where 1 is terrible and 7 is excellent), customers who provide a rating of a 6–7 tend to be nine times more loyal to organizations than customers who give a lower rating. Yet, we spend less time focusing on those high value customers. For every hour spent on customers who provided a 1–2 rating, only 15 minutes was spent on customers who provided a 6–7 rating. This corroborates with Harvard Business Review’s finding that on a five point scale(where 1 is terrible and 5 is excellent), customers who provided the rating of a 4 are six times more likely to defect than customers who provided a rating of a 5.

Why then is more time spent on problem solving within the valleys of an experience than raising the peaks of an experience to take it from good to great? As designers, we can relate to this approach–we are more often than not trained to fix problems than build on peak moments within an experience.

The reality is that all services will fail at some point. Paradoxically, a service that successfully recovers from a failure builds greater customer loyalty than a service that runs smoothly. As such, every great service company needs to excel at service recovery. However recognizing that something will inevitably go wrong, and setting up systems to turn a fault into a feature, is often a missed opportunity for many companies. So how do we capitalize on this?

Sean Lurie, during his most recent talk for the Service Design Network New York Chapter (find their events on Meetup) suggested four practical principles to create memorable moments: Elevation, Insight, Pride, and Connection.

Elevation

Defining moments rise above the everyday routine. They provide not just transient happiness, like laughing at a friend’s joke, but memorable delight. Three ways to create moments of elevation are: to boost sensory appeal, to raise the stakes, and to break the script.

Mastery Charter Schools boosted sensory appeal by hosting a pep rally every National Signing Day. Their high school students, typically from underserved communities and often being the first person within their family to go to college, would publicly announce the college they planned on attending in front of their families, faculty, and members of the local community. What would have otherwise been a private moment is transformed into a community event with much fanfare. This event drove more students who might not have otherwise thought about going to college to at least consider it, because they wanted to be part of this once-in-a-lifetime event.

Hillsdale High School raised the stakes by breaking the monotony of another written report with a mock trial in which each student had a role to play in presenting and judging the case. At the end of the semester, they brought this case to a courtroom where a judge presided over their case and their parents watched from the benches. For some students, this was their first time wearing a suit, or sitting within a courtroom.

Southwest Airlines broke the script with their creative safety announcements. Instead of creating a video for these announcements, which are likely to be ignored anyway, the airline encouraged flight attendants to break the script and add their spin on this necessary but often boring part of any flight. To incentivize creativity within their teams, a hall of fame memorialized the most outstanding efforts. Customers who were entertained by these announcements were more likely to fly with Southwest again, all for a nominal financial investment from the airline.

Insight

Moments of insight are defining moments that rewire someone’s understanding of themselves or the world, potentially influencing them for decades to come. In a business to consumer (B2C) context, this could be the difference between a company earning thousands of dollars or not, or in the case of public service campaigns, life or death.

In Made to Stick, Chip & Dan Heath tells the story of a campaign to stop popcorn from being popped with animal fat. Several health departments were looking to dissuade consumers from buying this unhealthy popcorn with an advertisement that said, “a bag of popcorn contains 30 grams of fat.” After bringing in a consultant, who also worked on the “Don’t Mess With Texas” campaign, the ad headline was changed to “a bucket of popcorn contains more fat than a bacon-and-eggs breakfast, a big Mac and fries for lunch, and a steak dinner with all the trimmings combined.” Both versions of the ad said the same thing but the latter was reframed for a consumer’s context, increasing the likelihood of the message resonating with them.

In the business to business (B2B) context, how service designers translate key insights for their organization is critical to those insights translating into real change, especially for stakeholders who work extremely close to the product/service and are likely to be offended by any feedback. Sean argues that human centered design and culture change are two sides of the same coin — improving an experience without others coming on the journey is self-sabotage. How might we springboard people to come to realizations of their own?

Microsoft Azure’s project manager believed the product had the potential for exponential growth. Through research however, he discovered that customers had a steep learning curve in getting to know the product, which made the product experience unenjoyable. He brought these insights to several meetings each time with various stakeholders within the company and was repeatedly rejected. “This is a technology issue,” they would say and opted for technology based solutions, rather than experience based ones. Fed up with trying to convince his colleagues with words and feedback alone, he held a two-day workshop with his Microsoft Azure colleagues across departments and seniority. In small teams, they would come up with an idea for a company on the first day, then build it on Azure on the second day. Midway through the second day, the executives were so frustrated with Azure that they resolved to fix the experience of the product. They end up tweaking the structure of their product roadmap to prioritize user experience and user interface design.

Pride

Moments of pride are defining moments that capture someone at their best, usually involving an accomplishment or an act of courage. People who act altruistically, such as donating blood, do not require any sort of payback. Yet the Red Cross in Sydney decided to send a thank you to each donor in the form of a printed newspaper article. The article featured the donor as a life-saving hero and included details about what was done with their donation, how much the donation helped, and when the next opportunity for donation was.

The Red Cross chose not to let the customer journey end with the lethargy, pain, and discomfort usually experienced after a blood donation. They added a peak moment by stoking the sense of pride a donor may already feel for their altruistic act. Bonus points for making a repeat donation convenient for their donors.

Connection

Humans are social creatures. From sporting events to presidential swearing-ins to weddings and graduations, or even everyday triumphs, many defining moments happen in the presence of and/or are celebrated with others. Such moments are amplified by having others to share it with.

Sharp Healthcare is a large healthcare group in the U.S. with various hospitals, medical groups, and even a health plan. When customer satisfaction scores were down some years ago, the executive team decided to host an offsite with various cohorts across the group. Their goal was to create shared meaning through talks by various industry experts, testimonies from patients, and time spent with staff members from other departments. At the end of each offsite, the executive team would invite their staff to volunteer for grassroots groups to improve the patient experience. A total of 1600 people signed up for different action groups across the system.

One of those groups led to the program This Bud’s For You. It was initiated by a cleaner who began taking note of which patients did not receive visitors and would greet them warmly when he made his rounds. While leaving the hospital one day, he saw landscapers pruning the hospital’s flowers. When he realized the flowers were typically discarded once pruned, he asked for them to be salvaged and repurposed for patients who didn’t get visitors.

Sharp Healthcare’s willingness to invite all levels of its staff to make change where they are allowed them to discover new innovative ideas unique to the perspectives of each department.

Decentralize Service Excellence

These principles alone can be powerful but are not exclusive from one another. Many of the case studies in this article make interrelated use of these principles. Equally as important as the use of these principles is bridging the gap between what’s often a back-of-house design and a front-of-house implementation. That gap makes the difference between a good experience and a great one.

While teams will have members of various talents and backgrounds, having a clear purpose knits each of them together through shared meaning. When done well, each member willingly contributes the customer experience from their unique perspective. This decentralization of service excellence means it goes from being something only designers care about to something everyone in the organization cares about.

A moment of shared meaning instils not the pride of individual accomplishment, but the profound sense of connection that comes from subordinating ourselves to a greater mission. — Chip & Dan Heath

For Sean, improving in a product or experience is rarely about getting to blue sky scenarios. Rather, raising an experience from good to great is as attainable as targeting a specific moment in the process and applying these principles.

Find this content interesting or useful? Follow the SDN New York Chapter on Instagram, LinkedIn, Twitter or Medium and / or join their Meetup group to hear about upcoming events. You can also find them on the global Service Design Network website — learn more about the larger SDN community there.

Crafting Unforgettable Experiences with Sean Lurie: 4 Key Principles was originally published in SDN New York Chapter on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

An ad hoc series about how community members have discovered the SDN NYC, and why they continue to come back. Each person’s story is unique and we are excited, grateful and warmed by their continued engagement.

“Oh, if you liked tonight’s discussion, you’d definitely be interested in the Service Design Network,” a fellow event attendee said to me.

We were both at a panel discussion about design’s role in public services. Since I arrived at the event by myself, I struck up a conversation with someone who happened to be sitting in front of me.

“Wait, there’s a chapter here?” I replied.

“Yeah, they meet monthly, I believe. You can find them on Meetup,” they said, nodding.

This was mid-2019, but I’d first heard of the Service Design Network years prior when its global conference was held at my alma mater. I volunteered as a room host and was blown away by the variety of industries, countries, and perspectives represented. The practice of service design was much more international and rapidly growing than I’d realized, but at the time there wasn’t a New York chapter so I forgot about it. I was so excited to hear about the existence of a local chapter that by the time I arrived at my apartment later than night, I’d already signed up for their next event!

My first SDN New York Chapter event was Designing for Your Future Self. I arrived just in time to grab a slice of pizza and join the audience. Instead of rows facing the speaker, everyone sat in small groups of about five around tables with worksheets, markers, and sticky notes. Regine Gilbert opened by asking what age the audience thought of as being old. She then invited us to create a profile of ourselves for that age, including details like profession, motivation, and daily routine. To guide us, we were provided a list of bodily changes one might experience as one ages. Next, Regine invited us to imagine with others at our tables where technology and innovation could improve our future worlds in relation to themes like community. After 40 minutes was up, each group took turns to present their ideas to the rest of the room. Ideas considered the impact of using a service design lens — services that stretched across physical and various digital channels.

I stumbled through the futuring exercise more than I thought I would. I definitely embarrassed myself during the group discussion. My notions of aging and ability to empathize were challenged. But all this was a breath of fresh air after working in a non-creative environment for two years post college. I didn’t realize how much I missed the speculative thinking, creative problem solving, and different perspectives such discussions often brought with it. I left the event energized by the mapping, insights, and even the discomfort.

Since then, through the SDN NYC, I’ve used improv exercises to improve my communication skills, learned to identify whether public spaces are truly public, picked up tools to design a personally meaningful life, and much more. Along the way, I’ve also eaten a lot of pizza, started recognizing other volunteers, and even volunteered for the group as an event recap writer.

For me, the SDN New York Chapter events serve as a monthly reminder that anyone can cultivate a designer’s mindset and toolkit, and that I am enriched by seeking to deeply understand others’ world views especially when they challenge my own. These events open up my world to intersections others are deeply embedded in, which in turn have shown me how to embrace mine. Given all the uncertainty, trauma, and violence this year has dealt us, I’ve enjoyed dreaming and working for a better tomorrow with others also doing the same.

Community Reflections — the SDN New York Chapter and Me was originally published in SDN New York Chapter on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Some men are obsessed with cars, others with technology. Lucas and Jacky take their love for shoes to a whole new level.

Starting a business with a relatively unknown brand in a field you know little about is a gamble. Starting that business with a childhood friend who is practically your polar opposite is asking for trouble. Yet Lucas Tan and Jacky Ye did exactly that. Their latest venture into patina shoes is bound by a deep appreciation for the well-made, a keen interest in their clients and many years of friendship.

Every shoe is a risk in itself. For starters, the two come from the banking industry; bringing almost no artistic training into the picture, save for secondary school art classes and perfect colour vision. This makes every pair a great investment in time and thought. “There’s no turning back once the patina is painted onto the shoe,” Lucas says. To be able to successfully translate the vague visions of their client (read: “I want it to be somewhat green”) into a handsome pair of shoes that will be cherished long after they leave the store is no small feat. On top of that, patina shoes require techniques that cannot simply be searched up online and replicated. “For about two years, I constantly Googled how patinas are done,” Jacky says. “But it’s very difficult to figure it out because they don’t really show you how to do it,” adds Lucas. It is the trade secrets that separate the hobbyists from the businessmen.

The secret for their success lies in part with their unique bond that mimics the relationship between their principals Marcos Fernandez and Mathieu Preiss. The French uncle and nephew are a generation apart in age and perspective but they work well together because of their differences. Similarly, Lucas and Jacky work because where one lacks, the other more than makes up. In the design process, Lucas builds relationships with the clients, understanding their needs while Jacky plans and executes the product. Since they’ve known each other for the bulk of their lives, they know what makes the other tick and what ticks them off. Yet when the rubber hits the road, Lucas acknowledges that “the bottom line is no matter who is right or wrong, whatever is right for the business is the right approach and both of us recognise that.”

What won their principals over however, was their undying love for the brand. Septieme Largeur may be relatively young in the men’s shoe department but Marcos brought almost 50 years of industry experience to the founding of the brand. Lucas and Jacky approached them as fans of their product, eager to share what they love with fellow Singaporeans. If the partnership were successful, it would be Septieme Largeur’s first foray into the Asian market. Lucas and Jacky were “non-players” in the industry and at the end, Lucas admits their sincerity is probably “what really won them over in terms of giving the franchise rights to us.”

“Bottom line is we’re not doing this so we can get out of our day jobs, we’re doing this because we love what we do,” Lucas says. And you will find that their day jobs aren’t that different from creating patina shoes. What Lucas and Jacky lack in artistic background, they more than make up in their ability to listen to their clients, manage unpredictability and make calculated decisions, much like they would do when they managed clients at a bank. More importantly, they bring an economic sensibility to their passion, which could otherwise lead them astray. They also relish challenges and are willing to learn. For them, their clients come first, even if they won’t wear what they are asked to create. “It has to fit the client,” they concede.

Like any bankers worth their salt, Lucas and Jacky understood the stakes, weighed out the probabilities and took the leap anyway. High risks yield high returns, they say. While many choose to play it safe, Lucas and Jacky clearly don’t. They and the men’s shoe scene in Singapore are much better for it.

Consider Singapore’s past, its identity and the path to the future through the eyes of eight local artists.

As individuals and as a society, we often wonder about our past, question our identities and wrestle with the future. Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going? Our past gives our identities context, which shape the way we see our future, either brimming with excitement or gripped by fear. These philosophical questions demand our attention, and perhaps desire answers, in order for us to successfully move forward.

“Going Where?” is a multi-medium exhibition aiming to facilitate a dialogue between the artworks and their viewers, with this pivotal question as the central focus. Viewers are invited to carefully consider the future on a personal and nationwide level. We speak to exhibiting artists, Wong Lip Chin and Robert Zhao Renhui, to hear about their work for the exhibition and their thoughts on where Singapore is going.

Majulah Singapura: Journey to the Land of Milk and Honey

— Artist Wong Lip Chin on questioning our idea of a utopic Singapore

Tell us about your work. What was your inspiration?

A (long) spurge of nostalgia and sudden discovery. I have a strong predicament with Singapore’s amazing advancements. I respect our nation but I often wonder if we are the utopia that our forefathers envisioned us to be. In this piece, Lilou is looking through a figurative peephole, a simple image of a couple and the greenery. Liberation I would say, is the core inspiration to Majulah Singapura: Journey to the Land of Milk and Honey.

Who exactly is Lilou? What does he mean to you?

Lilou is everywhere, floating around in my world. He’s a subversive hero that I desire in this hectic world, fighting justice like Iron Man or acting as our silent guardian like The Dark Knight. His presence in my works are important; he alleviates all the burning issues and acts as a satire in most works. Most importantly, he puts a smile to my face. Alas! Lilou is no longer alone. Lately, he’s found an acquaintance to join him in his quest as traveling down this long daunting journey is not going to be easy without company. She goes by the name of Oomoo. Fascinating.

What is your idea behind “Land of Milk and Honey”?

Our forefathers came to Singapore with the aim of discovering milk and honey, aka “Opportunities and Money”. In this work, I am looking through a peephole, reflecting on my long journey from my past, imagining that I was already in my land of opportunities, full of dynamics and complex infrastructures — only to wonder if my milk and honey was somewhere else, somewhere completely simple and tranquil. The applied phosphorus labyrinth represents that bridge between my reality and my imagined future.

Has Singapore become this land?

As I’ve said earlier, I am unsure myself. I always thought it has. I mean, that was our forefathers’ objective and, as a country, we have surpassed many others in such a short time. But what is a better state of life? Is it abundant infrastructure and a good economy? Are we happy with our lives and where we are? Bhutan, on the other hand, is considered one of the happiest countries in the world, and I think it’s fair to say they’re the complete opposite. We are, after all, a young nation and I feel that we have much more to reflect on, ethically, and evolve.

How then, should we re-look our values?

Singapore could potentially have a tunnel linked to Bhutan!

On a serious note, Singapore is still the hub of Southeast Asia and will continue to be for a good while. I am in no position to announce what the future holds; even the experts are baffled. However, for the fun of it, I see Singapore introducing new ways to increase its position, such as using art to attract the world. This could be a disaster, or pure ingenuity. One of my hopes is for the reintegration of deep-rooted cultures settling in Singapore to create a solid identity and change certain things — perhaps only then my battle will end.

The Heartwarming Feeling

— Artist Robert Zhao on viewing the impact of city life on nature through art.

Tell us about your work. What drew you to documenting this phenomenon?

Global warming is not an easy phenomenon to document. There is not a single picture that can represent global warming. Global warming is a concept. I will go as far to say it can be a way of thinking about how we live in relation to nature. Global warming is also a very vague idea. What exactly does global warming do to us on a daily basis? It is important that we realise that we are creating enough impact on our surroundings to alter the way other species are behaving.

Other than highlighting the migration patterns of birds, what do you want your viewers to think about as they view your work?

The project is a desperate attempt to portray our impact on earth’s fragile system. In this case, how we might be causing birds to die in the Arctic. This is something that is invisible and not so relevant in our life. We are causing birds to behave in a strange way. They are flying the opposite direction when migrating and landing up thousands of miles from their intended destination and creating mass bird graves in the Arctic. I’m not sure what we can do with all that information. So what I did with the pin-hole cameras on the birds was to create a representation that doesn’t try to tell you too much. I realise people don’t really like to talk about global warming in a normal conversation, it is really a conversation killer.

How does this work allude to Singapore, its identity and future?

Few people would want to think of Singapore as a haven for wildlife. We currently have more than 300 species of birds in Singapore and even the Himalayan Vulture is known to have flown here before. Some of the birds we have in Singapore are distant migrants from as far as Russia. I do not know why Himalayan Vultures will end up in Singapore and few people will bother thinking about that question. What I am trying to say is that we are all connected to a larger system in the natural world and everything syncs in a very sensitive way.

When we choose to leave the lights on at night or decide to play really loud music, it’s not just about consuming electricity. Studies have shown that some birds tend to fly towards windows every night and smash straight into the glass, thinking it is the moon. There are at least four documented cases of birds just dropping dead because of too much noise. The noise isn’t just music alone, it could be just someone deciding to rev up his car in the middle of the night and creating a shock wave to kill all these birds. There are drivers who like to rev up their car engines when driving past River Valley Road and people get really annoyed. My ecologist friend just look really worried at the trees when that happens.

Your work hinges on doubt and uncertainty, pushing the viewer to question the work you put before them. Do you think Singapore’s culture encourages such behaviour? Is it a positive or negative thing?

Doubt and negativity is not good or bad, but I think they can be useful. These days, people are refusing to believe what is presented to them. As we get more flooded with information, especially on the Internet, we tend to be really suspicious. I think the question is not just thinking about whether or not to accept what is being presented to us. We should also consider why the information is created and where it is going.

The title of this exhibition is Going Where?, so where do you think Singapore’s going?

Looking at the other works in the show, it seems we are definitely going places but strangely stationary at the same time.

—

Going Where? is presented by ShanghART Singapore. Visit the exhibition at 9 Lock Road, #02–22 located in Gillman Barracks from 19 July — 30 September, 2013.

The average person spends 80% of their life in some form of communication — emails, texts, conversations, images, non-verbal cues, funny cat .gifs, etc. Yet, communicating frequently doesn’t automatically equate to communicating well. This is especially frustrating when trying to get work done. Workplace communication can often look like sending emails into threads so long no one remembers the original subject, calling someone to clarify what was said via instant message, or scheduling follow ups to the original meeting.

In a recent online workshop hosted by the NYC Chapter of the Service Design Network, Vandad Pourbahrami from Humor that Works showed participants how to master workplace communication using applied improvisation. He points out the skills required to be good at improvisation are also the same skills required to be an effective communicator. He used five exercises to share mindsets for improving communication and increase confidence in discussing challenging topics.

Efficient ≠ Effective

Communication is more than just words spoken. Vandad boils the core of communication down to the exchange of an idea between two or more parties. This can happen between humans, humans and objects (like an art work), humans and animals (like a pet), or humans and machines, etc.

In such exchanges, there are direct and indirect communication avenues, like verbal and non-verbal cues. These exchanges always require a sender and a receiver. To be an effective communicator, one has to be good at both sending and receiving.

At the workplace, the good intention of maximizing productivity often leads to prizing efficiency above all else. While this is may work for spreadsheets, matrices, and even getting through airport security, Vandad argues:

You can’t be efficient with humans. You have to be effective with humans.

Participants were then paired up and sent to breakout rooms (a successful first for SDN NYC) to work through five exercises.

Exercise 1

In the first exercise, Vandad challenged us to actively listen to every single word our breakout room partner was saying. This resulted in awkwardness and some laughter between what was said and the response, revealing to me how unnatural active listening can be. Too often, I’m only listening long enough to formulate a response to the person I’m supposedly listening to.

Listening to respond is not the same as listening to understand.

This exercise forced us to wait until we had received all the information from the other person before starting to form a response, even though we might have been tempted to interject. An effective communicator listens to understand, rather than to respond. This requires listening to the entire message.

Exercise 2

Vandad then instructed us to describe an everyday object with language and contextual constraints, making what would have been a simple exercise an uphill task. I struggled to connect my words with my listener’s new constraints. Is this how I tend to sound to my teammates, friends and even family?

Effective communication is relevant and relatable.

This exercise required us to figure out what parts of our message would most closely connect to our audience’s experiences and/or needs, in order to make the message relevant and relatable. Vandad encouraged us to ask clarifying questions to do so. Once the context is defined, we can make a message relatable by breaking down it into terms our audience can understand. For example, describing a euphonium as a small tuba is more helpful to someone who knows what a tuba is but may not understand the intricacies of wind instruments. Once your message is relevant and relatable, employing humor will make it memorable, by leaving your audience with a positive impression of your message.

Exercise 3

Next, we were asked to explain our day-to-day with yet another set of language and contextual constraints. Armed with the lessons from the previous exercises, I asked clarifying questions and did my best to make my message relevant and relatable. Throughout the exercise, I was caught between the tension of wanting the nuances of my message and wanting to make a connection.

This tension I was feeling is how a lot of people feel when they have to explain themselves at an early round of a job interview or to co-workers from a different department. At some point in every career, we will find ourselves working with others who have less technical expertise than we do. Learning how to make complex topics digestible helps others understand what exactly you do and the impact you are making.

Making complex topics digestible is a critical skill to professional success.

Exercise 4

In this two part exercise, Vandad offered two ways to respond in a conversation. I had heard of this principle before but not tested it. Being restricted to one or the other way dramatically shifted our conversation’s dynamic and outcome, even though my breakout room partner and I decided to use the same conversation starter.

“Yes and” is a mentality of collaboration and openness.

We realized it was because those two types of responses are not just words, but relate to the mindset underneath the words. The word “and” tends to build up ideas and collaborate with others, while the word “but” tends to narrow down ideas and get realistic more efficiently. As such, the former comes off as more positive than the latter. Responding to a message with the agreeable parts before bringing up the disagreeable parts will likely land better than the opposite. This technique also works well for ideation, where ideas can more fully develop before getting lost in details.

Exercise 5

To close, we were tasked with reaching outside the languages we were familiar with to come up with new words in a rapid fire manner. I had to work against all my instincts and switch off my brain’s “autocorrect”. I fumbled for what felt like an eternity before looking around the room for inspiration. After that first round, the subsequent rounds got easier.

Vandad polled the group to see which part was more challenging for folks. In ideation, the people who struggled were actually wrestling with the paradox of choice. Too much choice made taking a first step overwhelming. Adding some structure often stimulates creativity. In choosing a path forward, the people who struggled were fighting to trust their instincts. Even in this scenario where there was nothing to lose (maybe except feeling self-conscious), some found themselves rationalizing their decisions. In the creative process, progress is the goal, not perfection. Try to “yes and” your own ideas.

Links

• A recording of this workshop can be found on Vimeo.
• Humor that Works’ corporate trainings and free events calendar

You’re not communicating effectively was originally published in SDN New York Chapter on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

“Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.“ — Jane Jacobs

Jacobs statement rings as true of today’s New York City (NYC) as it did in the 1960s. Today’s public spaces in NYC are increasingly privatized and policed. Decades of policy-making and defensive architecture practices have continuously removed people experiencing homelessness from the public view, excluding them from participating in simple everyday acts which housed people take for granted. If designers, policy-makers, and citizens desire a city “created by everybody” and “providing something for everybody,’’ what capabilities would they have to develop to get there? How might we envision and build truly inclusive and equitable cities?

In a recent fireside chat, the NYC Chapter of the Service Design Network heard from Madison Loew, Stella Kim, Nikita Price, and Eric Goldfischer about their work conducted as part of a partnership between the Urban Design Forum and Picture The Homeless. This partnership came out of the Urban Design Forum’s Forefront Fellowship. Its 2018 theme “Shelter for All” explores how they might design NYC’s shelters, intake centers, and supportive housing to turn the tide on the largest homelessness population in the US.

Reclaiming the public realm

Forefront Fellows Madison and Stella shared their participatory design research and tools, which culminated in the Office of the Public Realm. Their research started with the question: In a right-to-shelter city like NYC, why would someone live in the public realm? They explained that the shelter experience is more of a revolving door than a one-way street. People exiting shelters don’t typically go back to their pre-homeless life immediately. Instead, they need time not just to regain stability but also to recover from their shelter and homelessness experiences. If they don’t manage to get shelter, they are forced onto the streets. Over the past half a century, the increasing privatization and policing of NYC’s public realms has excluded such people from participating in regular activities in supposedly public spaces.

For NYC to be a truly inclusive city, it must reclaim its stewardship of the public realm. As such, Office of the Public Realm is designed to bridge the disconnect between the multitude of city agencies and non-city stewards, such as Business Improvement Districts (BIDS), Friend-Of groups, private property owners, etc. Its functions would be to:

1. Protect the human rights of people experiencing homelessness through a bill of rights
2. Connect people in the public realm with the services they need
3. Defend the dignity of people experiencing homelessness by addressing stereotypes and biases through guided exercises and reflections
4. Welcome people experiencing homelessness without excluding other New Yorkers.

Public spaces, but for who?

Nikita and Eric’s presentation focused on Picture The Homeless and its work in fostering more inclusive public spaces. Founded and led by people experiencing homelessness, Picture The Homeless is a grassroots organization working to change quality-of-life laws and policies which criminalize homeless people. Not only do they challenge the root causes of homelessness, they also work to shift the narrative about why people are homeless, seeing the connection between people’s “picture” of homelessness and the negative public policies which actually harm the homeless.

A good microcosm of their work can be experienced in many of NYC’s public plazas. These spaces, managed by BIDS and other similar groups, are technically available for all, but are often heavily regulated in the interest of financial gains and “aesthetic preferences”. Some of NYC’s plazas, including the one at 125th Street, prohibit:

• Unreasonable obstruction of sitting areas
• Unreasonable obstruction of free passage for other pedestrians
• Storing personal belongings
• Camping
• Lying down

“The people moving in here don’t want to see you.”

As East Harlem prepares for the extension of the Second Avenue Subway line, the neighborhood is becoming the uptown “Grand Central”. People experiencing homelessness are issued Move Along Orders, being told that “the people moving in here don’t want to see you.” People are marginalized by their socio-economic status, housing status, and even their physical appearance. People of color, immigrants, the LGBTQ community have also been targeted.

Ultimately, Nikita and Eric emphasized the importance of definitions when discussing inclusivity. Could some of our language be code for something else? When neighborhoods “beautify”, do we really mean “gentrify”? Do we define “community” simply as people who look, talk, act just like us? Who gets a seat at the table? Do we fool ourselves into thinking our political leanings will save us? The challenge for designers, policymakers, and urbanists is to design with, not for people experiencing homelessness.

Meaningful change takes time

So how might we practically envision and build truly inclusive and equitable cities? Here are some ways suggested by the four speakers:

• Recognize that design is not a neutral act. Question your definitions and ask the hard questions.
• Take the time to understand how systems work and to know your local politicians. In NYC, council members and community boards make plenty of decisions, which are decided upon by local residents and stakeholders.
• Spread the facts to your spheres of influence. Knowledge empowers people see what they can’t and potentially act on it.
• When researching, explore creative ways to incentivize community participation by working around community’s constraints and needs.
• When designing physical environments, consider if the structures could be considered hostile architecture. Who is it intended for? Who is it excluding?
• Remember that meaningful change takes time.

Recommended reading (abridged):

• New Public Spaces Are Supposed to Be for All. The Reality Is More Complicated by Winnie Hu (Anything by her is particularly helpful as she covers this beat for NY Times)
• Giuliani Time — a chapter from Revanchist 1990s
• Building like Moses with Jacobs in Mind by Scott Larson
• Who Cleans the Park? by John Krinsky and Maud Simonet
• City of Disorder: How the Quality of Life Campaign Transformed New York Politics by Alex S. Vita

Inclusivity is designing with, not for was originally published in SDN New York Chapter on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.