Design Thinking in Industrial Design: My Process
Design is problem-solving at its core. Every project - whether it’s a new router, a piece of packaging, or even a sustainable refurbishment initiative - it all starts with a simple question: What’s the actual problem we’re trying to solve? And while that sounds straightforward, the answer is rarely as obvious as it seems.
A recent example of this comes from my latest work in designing a line of broadband devices. At first glance, the issue seemed to be that users struggled with setup. That cables were getting swapped, connections were missed, and customer frustration was high. The easy answer might have been to rewrite the instructions to add more clarity or add some visual cues to the packaging. But digging deeper revealed the real issue: the labeling on the device itself just wasn’t clear to customers. The Icons seemed cryptic to those new to ecosystem, the color coding didn’t always match the cables, and the tactile features were foreign. The solution was a pretty straightforward fix - adjusting the labeling across all devices to be as simple as possible. We just simply wrote what the ports were and it was clear as day to those setting up the device compared to what we had originally, and it had an outsized impact, not just in usability but in user confidence.
That’s the kind of moment I aim for in design - where a deeper understanding of the problem leads to a solution that feels almost obvious in hindsight.
I admit, I didn’t always approach design this way. Early in my career, I focused heavily on aesthetics. And while that’s important (and satisfying), I eventually realized that the best designs don’t just look good, they do good. They work better, they last longer, and they address challenges people may not even know they have. Teaching design has reinforced this for me. Watching students evolve from focusing solely on form to digging into the “why” behind their projects is one of the most rewarding parts of the process.
A big part of my design thinking involves empathy - not just in the “how would I use this?” sense but in considering the extremes. This philosophy was reinforced during my time working with accessibility teams. When you design for those who are often overlooked - whether it’s someone with limited mobility, low vision, or any other challenge - you create something that works better for everyone. That mindset has stayed with me, not just in product design but in the way I approach sustainability and repairability, too.
Take the work I’ve done with product life cycles. It’s not the most glamorous part of design, but it’s probably the most impactful. Making devices easier to refurbish or extending their lifespan isn’t just good for the planet - it’s good design. And sometimes, the solutions come down to the smallest details. A texture change on a leased device might not seem like a big deal, but when you see how it reduces damage during handling, you realize how much a subtle change can ripple outward.
That’s the beauty of design thinking. It’s not about big, showy ideas; it’s about small, meaningful ones that add up. It’s about questioning assumptions, experimenting, failing, and iterating. And above all, it’s about solving the problem—not just for today, but for years down the line.