… Design Thinking originally offered the world of big business—which is defined by a culture of process efficiency—a whole new process that promised to deliver creativity. By packaging creativity within a process format, designers were able to expand their engagement, impact, and sales inside the corporate world. Companies were comfortable and welcoming to Design Thinking because it was packaged as a process.

There were many successes, but far too many more failures in this endeavor. Why? Companies absorbed the process of Design Thinking all to well, turning it into a linear, gated, by-the-book methodology that delivered, at best, incremental change and innovation. Call it N+1 innovation.

CEOs in particular, took to the process side of Design Thinking, implementing it like Six Sigma and other efficiency-based processes …

By formalizing the tacit values and behaviors of design, Design Thinking was able to move designers and the power of design from a focus on artifact and aesthetics within a narrow consumerist marketplace to the much wider social space of systems and society …

So what is Creative Intelligence, or CQ? Let me start by saying it is a concept in formation and I hope our conversation over the next months will give it a true, deep meaning. Above all, CQ is about abilities. I can call them literacies or fluencies. If you walk into one of Katie Salen’s Quest to Learn classes or a business strategy class at the Rotman School of Management, you can see people being taught behaviors that raise their CQ. You can see it in the military, corporations, and sports teams. It is about more than thinking, it is about learning by doing and learning how to do the new in an uncertain, ambiguous, complex space—our lives today.

At this point, I am defining Creative Intelligence as the ability to frame problems in new ways and to make original solutions. You can have a low or high ability to frame and solve problems, but these two capacities are key and they can be learned. I place CQ within the intellectual space of gaming, scenario planning, systems thinking and, of course, design thinking. It is a sociological approach in which creativity emerges from group activity, not a psychological approach of development stages and individual genius …

Restricciones y diseño

Diego Rodríguez en su blog Metacool:

1. Cita del arquitecto Joshua Prince-Ramus:

'We're seeing constraints as opportunities. It's not like we're getting around the constraints. We're saying, “The project's just the constraints.” If we can solve the constraints, that's where the form will come, that's where the beauty will come, that's where the logic will come. And more likely than not, you can get it built, you can get it financed, you can get it on budget.'

2. Charles Eames en "Design Q&A":

Q. Does the creation of design admit constraint?
A. Design depends largely on constraints.
Q. What constraints?
A. The sum of all constraints. Here is one of the few effective keys to the design problem-the ability of the designer to recognize as many of the constraints as possible-his willingness and enthusiasm for working within these constraints-the constraints of price, of size, of strength, balance, of surface, of time, etc.; each problem has its own peculiar list.
Q. Does design obey laws?
A. Aren’t constraints enough?

All companies die. All cities are nearly immortal.

Both are type of networks, with different destinies. There are two basic network forms: organisms or ecosystems. Companies are like organisms, while cities are like ecosystems.

Geoff West from the Santa Fe Institute has piles of data to prove these universal and predictive laws of life. For instance, organisms scale in a 3/4 law. For every doubling in size, they increase in other factors by less than one, or .75. The bigger the organism, the slower it goes. Both elephants and mice have the same number of heartbeats per lifespan, but he elephant beats slower.

Ecosystems and cities, on the other hand, scale by greater than one, or 1.15. Every year cities increase in wealth, crime, traffic, patents, pollution, disease, infrastructure, and per capita by 15%. The bigger the city, the faster it goes.

A less than one rate of exponential growth inevitably leads to an s-curve of stagnation. All organisms and companies eventually stagnate and die. A greater than one rate of exponential leads to a hockey stick upshot of seemingly unlimited growth. All cities keep growing. As West remarked: We can drop an atom bomb on a city and 30 years later it will be thriving.

The question Geoff West could not answer at tonight’s Long Now talk was:

Is the internet more like a company or more like a city?

I’d bet it is more like a city.

I think the difference between the development of an organism and a ecosystem, or a company and a city, is that the later in each case evolves rather than grows. Growth is always self-limiting, while evolution is unlimited. Evolution is the infinite game; it remakes itself again and again from within so that its growth cannot catch up or stagnate…

The predominant image of design in the 21st century is that cliché of the empty conference room or studio—just after some feverish brainstorming extravaganza—plastered with Post-it notes … as if the act of design had suddenly morphed into some strange game of pin the Post-it on the mind map. How is it possible that the wonderfully complex process of design has devolved to the point that we now commonly represent it by the leftover artifacts of quickie ideation? Is that all there is?

I point the finger of blame squarely at Design Thinking, that aspiring little brother of design that has recently been getting all of the attention. The rise in Post-it portraiture has more or less mirrored the infiltration of Design Thinking into the boardroom. And as creativity becomes the lubricant of the innovation economy, what says it better than a crazy quilt of Post-its smeared to the wall? It’s no surprise that this version of ideation is particularly salient in a business context, where outputs are more often intangible strategies, financial instruments, services, and information flows. An array of Post-its does make a more vivid photo than a bunch of suits with their ties off ruminating. The Post-it portrait accomplishes the work of saying, “creativity and leaps of imagination happened here.” It puts the gloss on innovation.

The problem is that in serving as a substitute for the whole of design, the Post-it represents only a small fraction of what makes design uniquely effective. It papers over the fact that ideation without materialization is not design. Designers discover as they turn ideas into thing (even when those things have no physical form). We gain true insight in the act of making a mark on a page or pushing pixels on the screen. We don’t need to over-hype those processes, but to ignore them means that we shortchange the practice of design.

A · Saber comunicarse bien
> Lectura crítica y reflexiva
> Interpretar la información y los medios de comunicación
> Escritura argumentativa
> Utilizar e intercambiar diferentes códigos
> Debatir y contrastar puntos de vista
> Idiomas

B· Dominar las nuevas tecnologías
> Buscar y evaluar críticamente la información
> Organizar y crear contenidos digitales
> Comunicarse y trabajar a través de redes
> Participar en la vida pública a través de internet

C · Ser creativos e innovadores
> Espíritu crítico
> Apertura a perspectivas nuevas 
> Hacer preguntas y plantear hipótesis 
> Originalidad e inventiva 
> Expresividad artística

D · Conocer cómo funcionan los negocios
> Trabajo en equipo
> Negociación de metas y proyectos
> Flexibilidad y resolución de conflictos

E · Ser multiculturales
> Conocer otras culturas y valores
> Implicarse en la comunidad
> Dialogar y negociar

F · Conocerse a sí mismo
> Expresar las propias emociones
> Entender a los demás
> Ser responsables y confiables

Why collaborate at all? One could conceivably make more money not sharing the profits — if there are any — so why collaborate if one doesn’t have to? If one can write alone, why reach out? …

Well, as I said earlier, one big reason is to restrict one’s own freedom in the writing process. There’s a joy and relief in being limited, restrained. For starters, to let someone else make half the decisions, or some big part of them, absolves one of the need to explore endless musical possibilities. The result is fewer agonizing decisions in the writing process, and sometimes, faster results.

Another reason to risk it is that others often have ideas outside and beyond what one would come up with oneself. To have one’s work responded to by another mind, or to have to stretch one’s own creative muscles to accommodate someone else’s muse, is a satisfying exercise. It gets us outside of our self-created boxes. When it works, the surprising result produces some kind of endorphin equivalent that is a kind of creative high. Collaborators sometimes rein in one’s more obnoxious tendencies too, which is yet another plus.

There are also some more market-oriented, pragmatic arguments for collaboration…

1. Defer Judgment. Don’t block someone else’s idea if you don’t like it…put it on the whiteboard and maybe you’ll be able to build on it later.

2. Go for volume. Getting to 100 ideas is better than 10, no matter what you initially think about the “quality”. Try setting a goal for the number of ideas you’ll get to in a certain amount of time to provide some stoke.

3. One conversation at a time. When different conversations are going on within a team, no one can focus.

4. Be visual. Sketch your ideas out for your teammate. It will communicate them more clearly than words alone, plus you might inspire some crazy new ideas.

5. Headline your idea. Make it quick and sharp, then move on to the next one.

6. Build on the Ideas of others. This leverages the perspectives of diverse teams and can be especially useful when you feel like you’re stuck.

7. Stay on topic. Your idea for an edible cell phone is awesome, but not during a brainstorm on making opera more exciting for children.

8. Encourage wild ideas. The crazier the better…you never know where your team might be able to take it. (See #1 and #6).

Este fin de semana vi un documental sobre David Lynch, One (del que esperaba mucho más, pero bueno, hay momentos entrañables, sobre todo cuando sale él trabajando con sus manos en el taller de carpintería-fontanería-electricidad-chapa y pintura que tiene montado en su casa; el tío es un manitas), y decía algo que comparto al 100%, que era algo así como que siempre se creyó que para crear había que sufrir, pero que es todo lo contrario: si intentas pasártelo bien con tu trabajo los resultados son mucho más profundos y despejados. Hay trabajar en lo que te apetece, concentrado en eso, sin pensar en grandes obras, inventar sin pensar que estás haciendo una obra, y luego ya se convertirá en obra, si es que eso ocurre.

Cuando vi a Lynch diciendo eso recordé a Luis Macías, en bar de Brooklyn ante unas cervezas y unos nachos gigantes con guacamole que comíamos con verdadero apetito, diciéndome que le gustaba aquello que decía John Cage: trabaja duro y pásatelo bien con lo que haces en cada instante, y de vez en cuando, sólo muy de vez en cuando, recuerda que estás haciendo una obra. Aina Lorente y yo acabábamos de hacer de ayudantes en su obra Scan Land, y aquello era la confirmación de una coherencia total entre la teoría y la práctica en los trabajos de Luis.

Y todo eso, ayer domingo, me llevó a recordar algo que decía también Félix de Azúa en su Diccionario de las Artes, algo así como: no te apures y disfruta, si hay talento la obra sale, casi por sí sola, y si no hay talento por mucho que te esfuerces y sufras, no saldrá jamás.

Tengo por costumbre trabajar sólo en aquello en lo que disfruto y en lo que me proporciona emociones al margen de hacia dónde se encamine ese trabajo, sin pensar mucho en posibles futuros que condicionan la trayectoria de lo que estoy haciendo. Creo es de esa “emoción sin dirección” de donde salen de repente las cosas que al final hacen que una obra valga la pena. Por eso ayer fue un domingo chulo, casi feliz, trabajaba en mis cosas y espontáneamente me guiaba por un instinto similar al de esas personas a las que admiro. Evidentemente, no es que me compare con ellos, es sólo una forma de abordar y entender el propio acto creativo, ya sea escribir un libro o inventarse una nueva manera de atarse los zapatos. Y en estos trabajos de WeAreQQ, así como en los de Macías, percibo eso también. A lo mejor me confundo, no estoy dentro de sus cabezas para saber qué piensan, pero a mí me comunican eso, y es lo que me importa.

Nota final de Agustín Fernández Mayo en su post WeAreQQ + Luis Macías + Domingo de Agosto.