Farewell IDDS

Although on July 7th I left Arusha and the friends I made at the International Development Design Summit (IDDS), I still look forward to remaining an active member of the International Development Innovation Network (IDIN). This network of innovators around the world makes IDDS a very small part of a larger community of 300 entrepreneurial leaders. I feel so fortunate to have access to mentorship, venture support, and grants as a member of IDIN. Thank you for following my adventure in Tanzania. Feel free to listen to my lessons learn from participating in the International Development Design Summit.

If you are interested in continuing this project, applying to an IDDS, or engaging with the IDIN, please contact me at dhines2 at babson.edu.

A photo taken of the two teams working in Orkilili, Education and Livestock Fodder Production, after our final community presentation.

A photo of the Education and Livestock Fodder Production teams alongside the community leaders we invited back to our Arusha campus. Those leaders were the Ward Executive, a Village Chairman, a Candidate for a Bachelors in Livestock Science, a secondary school Principal, and the Chairwoman/Founder of the Orkilili Womens' Finance Group.

Our last moments together. I was one of two participants selected to speak on behalf of the participant experience at the closing ceremony. I shared some insights into what I thought might be 'side effects' of post-IDDS life.

Continuity Boot Camp & Regional Agricultural Fair

The last days of the International Development Design Summit were spent alongside five community members of Orkilili who we invited back to our campus in Arusha. Each community member expressed interest in piloting the hay baler.

We develop a plan for piloting the hay baler.

We make last-minute adjustments to our final prototype.

Our smiling Mtendagi and one of a well-bound bale of hay.

When asked to generate a representation of 'resources we had' and 'resources we needed,' I was overwhelmed by all the resources I would have if I decided to create a venture after the summit based on the hay baler.

The Livestock Fodder Production Team demonstrates the hand baler to the director of the Higher Education Solutions Network (HESN), an initiative of USAID.

It was inspiring to see so many ideas and concepts related to fodder production at the regional agricultural fair. This design is a drying-fence for cut grass.

This may be the most sophisticated fodder storage system we saw in Tanzania. Storage unites need to cover the fodder from the top and allow ventilation on the bottom.

It was incredible to see designs we had seen online come to life at the agricultural fair. This is a box baler, an alternative design for hay baling. The user simply compresses cut grass a four-sided box to form a bale.

 This machine served the same purpose as one prototype which we chose not to pursue. It chops the maze stems into small pieces. Without such a processor, maize stems go uneaten by livestock. It was fascinating to see such an industrial machine after our experience in rural areas. It cost approximately $2,000 whereas our prototype cost less than $20.

This was our nonindustrial prototype made from a motorcycle wheel and scrap metal.

Relative Innovation

From our perspective, our innovation-impact matrix was mediocre. None of our ideas after gathering information and synthesis were especially new.

Throughout the process of developing a product, my team questioned our ideas fundamentally. Through the innovation-impact matrix we saw that our ideas were not particularly new. We did not think a hay baler in itself was not 'innovative.' According to us, a hay baler was not new or interesting. What was even more frustrating: good designs were readily available on the internet. How could we 'develop' something that already existed in other parts of the world?

My team's final prototype: a simple hay baler.

We were frustrated that our synthesis process did not lead to other more 'interesting' and 'innovative' ideas. However, all of these observations were from our perspective as designers. During one team meeting, our design facilitator stated the obvious but poignant statement: what is innovative to you is not necessarily innovative to the community. Our values as participants in the International Development Design Summit led us to want to develop something new. However, that was not necessarily what the community of Orkilili needed.

The community was aware of advanced mechanized grass cutters and hay balers they had seen in nearby cities and markets. However, the community needed a simple technology that appropriately suited their scale.

In retrospect, it seems a lot of the innovation in the developing world does not need to be around the product. Products exist. The real innovation is around the dissemination and delivery of appropriate technologies. Why is Coca Cola the most accessible and ubiquitous product around the world, yet simple agricultural machines are scarce? The problems surrounding affordability and accessibility rely on strong implementation and business leadership.

Interdisciplinary Design Challenges

In the final days of IDDS as my team built our final prototype to present at the regional agricultural fair, my team experienced conflict during a meeting which I attribute to our different disciplines. 

As we shared two strengths and two weaknesses for one another, the electrical engineer made comments directed at the industrial designers. The electrical engineer said, "You have 20 designs. You keep things open. You don't close things, and we don't come to a decision." He stated that he did not think some design tools were helping us reach a final prototype. For instance, he felt an hour of sketch modeling with foam and glue the previous day was a waste of time. In reference to the industrial designer's sketching, he commented "because you show so many options we cannot move forward."

As another way to stimulate our brains before my team converged on a final prototype, we made low-fidelity sketch models supplies supplies such as band-aids, paperclips, and wooden dowels.

The industrial designers shared in response on sketch modeling, "When developing a product, you can't go straight to a product. It's about the small steps." About her sketches the industrial designer shared, "For me sketching is a way to get to a solution. Maybe I should not show you my process because you think these are different designs." "Although I am the only designer, it is not my responsibility [to design the entire product]. I haven't seen one sketch of how to improve [our hay baler from anyone else]," she added.

I felt in awe that I was able to witness such a rich debate so rooted in different disciplinary customs. From this conversation, I took away that industrial designers, engineers, and business people are accustomed to contributing to teams in different ways. On my team, the industrial designer may not have felt that other members were committed to finding a solution because they were not sketching.

Different expectations on contributions: 

designer: sketches, concepts (object)

engineer: functional representations, technical drawings (object)

business: slide decks, ideas, market research, networking (opportunity)

This debate also gave me insight into how different disciplines are accustomed to working. From the conversation, it seemed that industrial designers are more comfortable converging (deciding on a concept or prototype design) and diverging (sketching all the different possible designs) simultaneously. It may have felt unnatural or unnecessary to the engineer.

When I thought about how unnatural sketching feels to me, I remembered something Tim Brown, CEO and President of IDEO once said. In his book Change by Design Brown writes, “[Interdisciplinary collaboration] requires ... individuals who are confident enough of their expertise that they are willing to go beyond it.” Interdisciplinary product development is hard. Especially for novice interdisciplinary collaborators, it requires individuals to do things so fundamental to their discipline (such as making a contribution) in fundamentally different ways.

Adapting Design Practices to non-North American Cultures

At many points during the summit, certain design methods which worked when I was designing for farmers in New England did not fit the context of tribal Tanzania.

For instance, it was difficult for my team to gather information in Orkilili. Community members were accustomed to convening large meetings. Men sat in a large circle. Women sat outside the circle and listened. In such settings, my team could only ask questions to the men. However, designers know that only so much insight can be gained from asking questions. Observing users in their environment in addition to trying what users do are equally important. Observing, asking, and trying enable designers to gain deep insight into lives and build empathy.

At our first community meeting, we succeeded in gathering information by communicating through images. The industrial designer on my team illustrated the translated responses of community members on topics such as seasons, breeds, and livestock fodder. The drawings seemed to build trust and understanding despite the language barrier.

Our presentation to the community at the end of community visit. We squatted during the community presentation to give community members a greater sense of self-determination and responsibility to provide feedback.

For our community presentation at the end of the first community visit, my team identified strategies to gather feedback effectively in a large community meeting. My team planned to give each attendee a colorful sticker which he and she would use to vote on the need they felt was important. As my team was assigned to work on livestock fodder production, we wanted community members to vote for three areas of opportunity: fodder storage (preserving what was already there), fodder processing (increasing what was available), and fodder growing (more of a long-term educational project).

As we confidently explained our innovative community strategy, one design facilitator told us that dot voting would not be an appropriate method to engage the community members. Dot voting might disrespect the hierarchy of local leadership. We needed to respect the place of the Mtendagi, or Ward Executive. Despite our enthusiasm for engaging women and men simultaneously, we ended up following a less exciting communication strategy. We intentionally sat during our community presentation to lend power to the community members while sharing our findings with the community using a translated problem-framing tree poster.

The second instance of overcoming intercultural dynamics was during our home stay in the community. As 'guests' of the community it may have been more difficult for the community members to criticize the objects that we created. We may have had a different experience soliciting feedback on prototypes if we had not lived with the Mollel family in Orkilili.

The father of our host family (in bright blue on the left) informally gave us overwhelming positive feedback on our first prototype.

Designing for Wicked Problems

During my team's first community visit to Orkilili, we took every measure to soak up information about the community. Although our primary objective was to gather information about livestock fodder practices, we remained aware of other community events and issues. It was a challenge for my team to meet with farmers individually as community meetings were such an integral part of the culture, however, we did collect a sufficient amount of information. My team was able to generate a problem framing tree.

Just an aside: a problem framing tree is a tool used in design practice to break up large, ambiguous problems into smaller ones which can be chosen and designed for. For instance, my team's 'trunk' was "increase availability of livestock fodder for Maasai." We chose to pursue the branch of "ensure adequate supply of livestock fodder" over branches such as "improve breed selection, or "improving farming education."

As we ideated on the community's major challenges, we saw a larger macro-structure taking shape on the framing tree. Many of our ideas addressed long-term challenges such as education and breed selection and access to quality seed. Nevertheless, we were able to identify other shorter term challenges. However, when we matched our brainstorming ideas with the problem framing statement we realized that our ideas paled in comparison to the large scale challenges. We questioned: how can we design a product for such a specific issue as feeding cattle when such larger issues like how to farm exist?

In 1972 Hoerst Rittel first used the term "wicked" to describe the nature of design problems. Rittel argued that design problems are characterized by high uncertainty. In other words, linear obvious solutions found from analytical approaches are unlikely to successfully resolve design problems such as the one my team and I faced. We faced a wicked problem.

As my team and I argued and discussed our concept conundrum, a quote from a TED Talk popped into my mind. Sami Nerenberg the founder of Design For America posed the poignant question in her TED talk, "What is the smallest change you can make that would have the greatest impact?" At that moment, I lept into the discussion and shared my break through.

It was perfectly acceptable for the team to develop a prototype that only partially addressed the large and unwieldy issue of livestock fodder and prosperity. How could any one product possibly solve all the community's problems?

Following that conversation, my team successfully narrowed our prototypes down. We chose to move forward with a hay baler, a maize stock chopper, and a urea fermentation process.