Your company has been quite successful for a long time now. You created both the product category, and the market it serves. You are the clear leader. Life is good.
In a follow-up to Design Language 101, Part 1″, we provide information that executives responsible for product development can use to better understand how Design Language benefits engineers.
If you’ve been paying any kind of attention to the news over the past few months, you will almost certainly have heard about Nest, a new kind of thermostat from former Apple veteran Tony Fadell and his team.
In my 15-year career working as a researcher, designer, and strategist, my focus has been on helping business leaders break new ground. I have worked with the full spectrum of technology-based companies, ranging from Silicon Valley to Wall Street, and while I have been part of some true breakthroughs, I have also witnessed my fair share of failed innovation.
Let’s get this out of the way right now: I am an engineer. I’m also going to admit that for many years, my understanding and appreciation of the value of Industrial Design and Design Language was minimal.
When choosing between product directions, should you choose the simplest, the cheapest, the most reliable, or the one the CEO likes the best? If you picked any of these you might as well have chosen blindfolded.
In recent years there have been a few TV shows that focus on outdoor survival. During these shows the star, a survival expert, is dropped off in some remote region of the world with three items: a camera, his survival skills, and a trusty multi-tool.
The odds of a major league baseball game ending with a "walk-off" are about 1 in 11. So why is it that most development schedules expect a game ending home run to succeed?
It’s not how much you spend on product development that’s important. It’s how the money is spent that counts the most. If exceptional Return on Investment (ROI) could be guaranteed merely by spending more, then those with the most to spend would always have the greatest success. Yet we know from observation that this is not the case.
It was 2AM, and Homer’s Blackberry sounded like a tomcat in a pitbull kennel.