JINBLOG

The temperament of this book:

Through the first chapter one can roughly feel the temperament of the whole book. The main point it emphasizes is that design imagination should detach itself from reality. Actually, this somewhat goes off track from the concept that design, life, and reality are connected, but the authors believe that if reality itself is already a mess, escaping from it actually means jumping out of its limitations to find new hope to imagine another possibility. It is a kind of temporary pause; being physically in the world while conceptually detached is a way of exploration. (I think what they are essentially saying is that fantasy in design is not guilty, as long as it stays connected to reality; as long as you don’t leave both materially and consciously, it’s still design.)

Overall, the first chapter’s point is to imagine boldly philosophical fiction. Our imagination is another kind of reality that exists in another place, with another sense of time and way of thinking. For example, some high-intelligence species may exist in gaseous form and breathe through their buttocks, or not breathe at all , living forever. Does that count?

Some thinkers believe that impossible things cannot even be imagined, so whatever we can imagine is already possible. (The first chapter feels somewhat self proving; for professionals, it’s just so so, since most people would already agree with them anyway.) Therefore, one should avoid binary thinking, such as true versus false, good versus evil.

‘But we are designers of physical things.‘

(Dunne, Anthony; Raby, Fiona. Not Here, Not Now: Speculative Thought, Impossibility, and the Design Imagination (p. 26).)

According to my overall understanding, Dunne and Raby do not mean that we shouldn’t make assumptions close to reality, but rather that being too close to reality will fall into the trap of feasibility, which doesn’t help in creating scenes that aim to provoke reflection , it only hinders them.

In short, my way of constantly asking questions may be exactly what they want , don’t let things land, keep them in discussion. Then what exactly is philosophical fantasy?

Philosophy fiction:

I think the philosophical fiction they pursue is essentially Kafkaesque in its insight and narrative approach , allegorical, open, and deep , rather than focusing on authenticity, familiarity, or feasibility. It uses familiar elements to construct strangeness, directly pointing to deep philosophy fiction. There’s a sense of “the observer sees clearly.”

But honestly, asking the public to think philosophically in a fantastical way is as hard as climbing to the sky. It will only raise the threshold higher and higher. And what exactly is philosophical fantasy? The definition is hard to explain. Joe Lindley once emphasized that the speculative essence of such work is worldbuilding, where participants can experience this world and connect with it, and then start to think , but is creating a philosophically fantastical world realistic?

I think it’s a good potential practice. But how can this process of construction stay ungrounded? Or is “not landing” the goal itself?

If someone suddenly says during the construction process, “This inspiration actually came from a tree in front of my house,” and what they think of is a very down-to-earth event that happened under that tree in a particular time and among particular people , for example, sitting under the tree checking bills , does that mean the philosophical fantasy collapses? Or as long as they keep an observer’s stance, is it fine?

Is this a kind of high-level sensibility purely based on intellectual thinking? A privilege that belongs to people with philosophical interests or backgrounds?

So the question returns to privilege: how many people can engage in philosophical fantasy without considering reality? How much money and time are needed to build such a scene?

What is an object? Why emphasize the object:

Must everyone together make something visible and tangible? Why emphasize that?

Maybe because even the most abstract object provides a foundation for imagination. This goes back to the initial paradox: we are supposed to detach from reality, but it’s still design. This also relates to the boundaries between design and other disciplines. But I feel the authors don’t care, they don’t care what design is, nor what is possible. What they care about is design itself , its iteration and evolution.

Who is the audience:

After emphasizing that imagination is invincible, the authors continue to develop theories to promote imagination. But is this important? Maybe most people haven’t even started to imagine? Or do they think that once people realize this issue, someone will naturally start doing it, so they only need to move one step ahead to provide new references for those already at the forefront?

Their book, in fact, is always written for academic people ,those who are already in this field and thinking about it. They hope to influence more designers, not more of the public. They also don’t want to discuss public participation issues, although many others are already doing that, and we could even say they gave everyone the opportunity to continue that discussion. But it’s obvious that they themselves don’t want to talk about it.

How to participate:

Essentially, it’s still ungrounded , always flying in the air.

Dunne & Raby are not against interpretation, but against instant incorporation. They want to preserve the first moment of estrangement, to let you be briefly stunned by absurdity. As for how you later interpret it or relate it to reality, they don’t care , that only proves imagination has already been triggered.

The Art of Questioning course last year actually had some of this temperament. Everyone naturally discussed Kafka’s works , that process was, but actually also uncontrollable. Some people just like to keep relating everything to themselves. What can we do? The ones who talk the most hold the power.

I feel that so-called free discussion is, in essence, unfree. Class and power differences will naturally appear in all group activities. Even under the fairest distribution, the person who makes the distribution rules , isn’t he or she the one with more power? If that person deliberately weakens themselves later to maintain balance, does that make them weaker? But when it’s time to redistribute, don’t they regain power again?

In short, power must flow , fairness is impossible. The experience of participation can never always be good. But you can wait for the moment when it’s your turn to take charge. You might even overthrow the so-called philosophical fantasy, and everyone just meditates together.

The opening began with a children’s singing and dancing performance about protecting the Earth and saving the future. Then a 91-year-old vegetarian doctor gave a talk about environmental protection and design, focusing purely on climate and planetary survival. Later I found out that it was Jane Goodall.

After that, the host made the opening speech, which was very business-like but not boring.

The first speaker was a designer from the Makuru slum who became a mother at sixteen. Her two-year-old daughter was burned by cooking fire, which made her decide to change the way local resources were used through design and innovation. Her idea was that design is for use. Now she calls herself the CEO and founder of the Makuru Clean Hob Company. Her design is driven by environment, survival, and community. The medium in essence is external and passive, so how can design actively become a medium? I actually felt that, apart from her, most of the talks on the first day were very grand in scale. Many things were deeply connected with industrial systems that I could barely understand. To sum up, design is about the future.

The first talk on the second day was by an Australian teacher who spoke about environmental protection. Her teaching ability was impressive. She knew how to engage the audience and the stories she chose were emotionally powerful. But I realized that giving people fish is not as good as teaching them how to fish. When we emphasize environmental protection to people, they may have the idea in their mind but not care enough about it. Is that possible? Or maybe people have not fully understood it, but they are emotionally involved, similar to the way extreme political fans react. Could that be it? Or maybe everyone there was just smart enough to know better.

I feel that, at its core, what is needed is a method of education, a way of expression and connection. Maybe what we design is exactly that. But if we overemphasize the theme or the background itself, the expressive and connective aspects will inevitably be weakened. I mean when one thinks about the overall process of a project. Of course, we can always spend money to create a large-scale event, but is that the only way? And in that case, projects tend to become commercial or homogeneous. So in fact, everyone needs to reconsider things from the perspective of connection, even to put connection itself in the most important position. If the main focus of a design project presentation is its background introduction, it might be better to invite scientists instead. Or if we force students to buy books in schools, is that useful at all?

A famous architect shared the idea that architecture should not only consider the people inside but also the pedestrians outside, who outnumber those inside by many times. Ugly architecture is not scary because people can still laugh and talk about it. What is truly frightening is boring architecture. That was a very interesting and philosophical point.

Regarding a new book about collaborative design for the future, the authors believe that by 2030 everyone will become a professional in self-care skills. It is a good form of education, but I feel it is driven by crisis. Yet if we exclude health and only talk about care, when will people start to learn it on their own or be educated about it? What would that moment look like? I cannot imagine it right now. But indeed, this topic appears too often in current design discussions, including the idea of connection. We already know many valuable truths, some that were known even a thousand years ago. But when will everyone finally take action? I always feel that, historically, such moments are usually passive in nature. So where does this passivity come from?

About the period when Japan resisted the American cultural assimilation of its own culture, that was probably around fifty years ago. The folk art movement in Japan actually began quite early. Many of the things that China is now starting to talk about, or that Korea is doing quite well, were very likely already explored by Japan before in the field of design, maybe they still focus on this ,this is not a problem we can solve in 5 years even 500 years maybe, we always try to explore.

If look at Japanese design today, we can see that it indeed has a lot of distinctive qualities, but it is not entirely traditional. So sometimes when we consider a problem, our limitation lies in the lack of comparison, we do not even compare ourselves with our neighbors enough.

This makes me think that many of the passionate research projects people are doing often carry strong temporal limitations. Even if they are valuable from a cultural perspective, it is possible that our neighbors have already done similar things long ago. Or even if we say we can conduct deep, localized research on how a certain city or even a small neighborhood might develop its own culture, let me use an example: a thousand years ago, Muslims ruled Spain. What is Spanish culture like today? It is still splendid, brilliant as ever. But if a Muslim scholar back then had studied how their culture could take root and localize in Spain, and then the next day the Spanish culture was restored and the enemy troops reached the command post, would that effort not feel in vain?

Historical contingencies are things we cannot prevent. If tomorrow aliens suddenly invaded Earth and blew up the planet, would all my environmental and geographical research become useless? So what we should look at are things that are more long-term and profound.

However, from the perspective of doing cultural research, it still makes sense. Although I am saying that some cultural research may not seem that necessary, actually every kind of research has its meaning. When I say “not necessary,” I mean that certain conclusions can be limited in scope. But for example, if I am doing a design study for one community, and the results can be applied to hundreds or thousands of communities, methodologically, as long as humans exist, it can be used, then that research is valid.

That said, I cannot help thinking of how I sometimes resist fixing my research within a specific community. But thinking through this logic today, I realized the significance of focusing on a small community. It allows the research to land and to develop a more concrete framework. This framework relies on a targeted experimental carrier, a community. Therefore, there is no contradiction between doing broad research and temporarily connecting it with one community. I do not know why I used to struggle with this, but by thinking in reverse today, I moved from criticizing community-based localization to realizing that every localized project has a meaning beyond that single community, and by accepting this logic, I think I have made a good discovery.

Defining Design, Naming Design

At first, I just felt a bit uncomfortable seeing someone carefully defining and introducing the term “speculative design,” a phrase that even input methods can hardly recognize. But I did not expect that people would also show so much arrogance and argument over how to translate it. Of course, how could I say I am not arrogant myself?

In fact, most of the so-called pioneers, after giving a broad definition of this concept, all try to avoid emphasizing detailed reflections and summaries. These parts may look delicate but are actually unimportant. They are more like methods of crossing a river, but how to cross that river is one’s own research. The content on the other side of the river is what deserves to be seen and shared. Yet some people become obsessed with the process of building the bridge and believe that the bridge is unique and indispensable. Overall, the focus has been misplaced. Especially in such an open and free topic, we must realize that we are not assembly-line workers who follow strict instructions. We should be grateful for this freedom. Even an assigned essay can be written with spirit and imagination. Of course, you can memorize some techniques, but when your thoughts are truly flowing, would you still need them?

Later, I saw people arguing about the difference between “design fiction” and “design novel.” I found it stupid and ridiculous. Of course, I understand that first impressions are important, and many people do not explore the details but rely on their own subjective impressions. Yet if the inventors themselves are not bothered by it, why should two students argue endlessly? In English, the term can be defined with more precision, so why not? Does its name even matter at all?

So what are people really arguing about? I personally think they are fighting for public recognition. Because they publish these ideas in academic circles, in workplaces, and on social media, and are acknowledged for them, they begin to feel supported. That gives them motivation, and they want that motivation to last longer.

Of course, this might be only the smallest part of the reason, because deep down everyone firmly believes that they represent a kind of justice, not merely their own pride and arrogance.

The event started on Wednesday evening, held at a bar in Beijing about a ten-minute walk from a tourist area. The nearby tourist streets were crowded, but the area around the bar was almost deserted.

There were only three people inside the bar. Bar culture itself does not really feel like part of Chinese culture, does it? I think it actually makes sense that a Chinese bar in a residential area would only have three people. The bar owner was a typical literary youth, very trendy, which probably fits my stereotype of Chinese people who like foreign things such as bars. The event organizers came from an environmental organization, and they had collaborated with another environmental group to create this board game. The gameplay was that everyone shared a common goal, but each player had a different position. You had to defend your own stance while also making sure everyone survived. The success or failure of different issues would cause some people to gain or lose points.

At the beginning, the few people who arrived early were all very polite. Everyone did a self-introduction. When I mentioned the term “speculative design,” no one knew what it meant.

Later, when the latecomers arrived, the game began. During the game, those who came early remained polite, but the latecomer was quite sharp. I am not sure if that was just his personality or something else. But from the perspective of my research, I would say he did not participate in the ice-breaking process, so he did not really care. I confronted him once and then did not want to again because he was too sharp. I did not want to appear weak. Of course, maybe I was also sharp, which made him feel he had to be even sharper. It was hard to find a balance.

Later, it was obvious that everyone’s sense of confrontation started to fade, and the game became a bit dull. Some of the topics in the game were rather unrealistic, and since the goal was to reach a yes-or-no conclusion, people had no passion for deep discussion. They just wanted to reach consensus quickly. But when the topics were more down-to-earth, people began showing off their knowledge. Although no one said it directly, I could clearly feel that some people had impressive friends and others had memorable experiences studying abroad. Maybe it felt good for them to mention those things.

The first round was actually fine because there was still some confrontation, although it was more intellectual. From Bourdieu’s perspective, that was social capital at play, something that could even be quantified. I wonder how Dunne and Raby would interpret this kind of confrontation, since they are not interested in grounded things. So how would it float? This kind of confrontation can actually last, but it is not floating at all. It belongs to the realm of cultural and philosophical combat. But as the game went on, everyone realized that someone was about to lose, and when one person failed, everyone would be affected, so people started helping each other. At that point, the pleasure of confrontation shifted to cooperation. But honestly, cooperation is just not as fun as confrontation.

Later, everyone realized that to win, confrontation was not needed at all. At that stage, I felt that no one cared about the game anymore. People just wanted it to end. We entered the bar at seven, and by nine everyone was already restless.

The game actually has a fatal flaw. I do not think the issue is confrontation or cooperation, but rather that the discussion time for each topic is far too short. Because the final goal is too clear, each topic, which could easily take three to five days to discuss, must be decided in three to five minutes. Even though there was no time limit, everyone just wanted to move things forward.

Still, the visual design of the game was excellent. I think most players would give it a good review out of respect for the concept and design. This reminded me of what Betti once said about not wasting too much time making experimental content overly polished. Of course, this game was a commercial project with an environmental theme, but it inspired me. Because of how well it was executed commercially, the surface excellence actually covered up the fundamental problems.

In the end, the experience was certainly not bad. The cards were beautiful, and at the very least, it was a polite social experience. But the game itself had many issues. The content was deep and rich, yet people still felt bored, which was worrying. What can keep participants continuously interested in thinking and playing? Emotion and addiction. At least one of them has to be there. Discussing a topic for three minutes cannot create emotional engagement. Sometimes, giving up a bit of personal interest to help others does not feel satisfying or exciting either.

Perhaps a game needs both emotion and addiction to coexist in order to truly work.

I have found that during my design research process, I often find myself in a self-contradictory iteration. This is essentially dialectics, negating the negation of the past. However, the core of this contradictory situation lies in the lack of practice. Each stage of the negation process likely requires sufficient practice to support it. This can successfully deepen the previous negation and provide a clearer representation of the process for the audience, helping them understand how things have developed.

In such a context, the audience spends only a few minutes or at most a few hours experiencing a project, while the designer’s understanding of the project far exceeds that of the audience. Ultimately, this is a process of self-improvement, self-education, and self-reflection for the designer. This dialectical and spiraling thought process is shaped by time. For a design project that aims to provoke dialectical thinking in the audience, what level of experience is necessary to achieve the desired reflection and discussion? If this is a complex process of measurement and exploration, could the possibility of the audience becoming designers themselves be a better approach?

Previously, I was always thinking about how to attract the audience, guide them, educate them, and how to elicit their expression. I had criticized overly pure creative toolkits as only suitable for professionals. However, it seems that such creations are not solely for professionals; all participants should engage in design and creation. Yet, it is inevitable that those who design these toolkits lack consideration for a broader audience. So, how should we build a bridge to connect participants with creation? Undoubtedly, making the process enjoyable requires some interactive mechanisms and the integration of fun elements. However, co-creation and competition inherently have certain conflicts. Monopoly tries to get people to cooperate to avoid monopolies, but players clearly enjoy the competitive thrill of winning alone. Coopetition might be a possibility.

For a service-oriented experience, it seems easier to evoke feedback and participation from the experiencer/consumer. Perhaps this is due to the high level of commercialization, where the audience’s mindset is influenced by their substantial investment in it. Some museum exhibits might also stand out because the audience invests a lot of time and emotional factors. So, should participants be required to invest something? How do we create this sense of ritual?

Regarding different types of design, what has recently touched me deeply is the concept of design’s ABC. It doesn’t represent iteration, progress, evolution, etc., which was my previous misunderstanding. Instead, they coexist equally. However, this may not be centered on the designer; the audience/participants/users are still the key to thinking about these issues. A stands for Acceptance, B for Reflection, and C for Creation. Different regions inevitably have different needs, but in a rapidly developing environment dominated by A, there are inevitably people who have already started to show signs of B. In an ideal state, C might blur the lines between designers and participants more and more. At that point, would it still be necessary to distinguish between designers and users/audiences? From a global perspective, this will be very complex, as it is a very intricate issue intertwined with time and region.

Previously, I mentioned that the game experience I aim to create is one of creation, where materiality—i.e., the worldview framework—serves as a critical guiding clue. This article will briefly discuss two themes: elements of co-creation and the potential content the framework may encompass.

I have previously mentioned creation and cooperation, but I have never combined creation with collaborative exchange.This co-creation experience is closely related to design because design is not purely a discipline that pursues depth; cooperation, collaboration, and breadth are what create more possibilities for the future. To some extent, the scenarios requiring consensus and sitting down to communicate, which globalization and diversity need, are cooperation and co-creation. Promoting the breadth of knowledge connection and exploration through collaboration is also a strategy to foster global solutions and address shared global crises. The concept of breadth was also mentioned in the dragon speech I referred to earlier. Pioneers in various fields have long realized the importance of cognitive breadth in today’s communication environment. This is a potential of the present and future, belonging to the era of highly developed communication technology. Depth exploration, however, has always been discussed within relatively independent and small expert groups throughout history. Past development did not necessarily need to consider the macro proposition of a shared Earth, which is inherently a modern and future proposition. This does not deny the significance of depth exploration; I believe finding a balance between the pursuit of depth and breadth in the exploration process is crucial.

The “9 Dimensions for Evaluating How Art and Creative Practice Stimulate Societal Transformations”

https://creaturesframework.org/funding/creatures-dimensions.html

include three categories of change, each covering three dimensions:

• Changing meaning (embodiment, learning, imagination)
• Changing connections (caring, organizing, inspiring)
• Changing power (co-creation, empowerment, subversion)

This belongs to the future possibilities of design as an art and creative practice. Personally, I believe co-creation is at the core, as it includes imagination and caring, and imagination inherently includes organizing. If applied to my practice, the key lies in co-creation, subversion, and inspiration. The purpose of subversion is to create new ways of thinking or bring about practical new possibilities. This also relates to some workshops I have experienced. I personally believe that workshops achieving two out of these three points tend to be relatively successful; achieving one point makes the experience quite memorable. Most workshops do not achieve any, relying heavily on individual initiative.

As for how to guide my project participants to have better narrative guidance, I refer to some social issue models, mainly including: individual (rights, emotions, health, etc.), community (safety, media, immigration, etc.), culture (religion, language, arts, etc.), livelihood (property, work, business practices, etc.), infrastructure (energy and convenience of life, etc.), and environment (including natural resources, land, and housing, which can be encompassed in other categories). In designing the speculative card game, I can try to design around the six points I mentioned. The concept of future archaeology from design fiction strategies can better arrange these clues. However, how to relatively refine these clues? I cannot consider every possible scenario exhaustively, but I can set broad concepts like: A new religion//A new mode of transportation/A new communication method becoming the trend. Such broad settings allow for more expansive space for divergence. The premise I need to design is an anomaly in the speed of progress over time.

This reflection stems from the narrative strategies employed by some mainstream games. In some experiences, you feel like an outsider helping NPCs; in others, you think that what the NPCs say and do, along with your exploration, is closely related to you. I believe these two experiences differentiate between the outsider and the insider. Interestingly, both experiences can occur within the same game, such as in the main storyline (unfolding as an insider) and side quests (unfolding as an outsider).

Game as perspective on cybermedia objects and processes is the game research model I primarily refer to. Below is my understanding of this model: it sets sign, materiality, and mechanics as the three critical dimensions determining a game. The player, situated at a high dimension, links all elements, forming a pyramid-like structure. Here, the sign represents the narrative and cultural layer, mechanics pertain to gameplay design, and materiality involves the immersion and realism of the experience. At the apex, the player receives feedback, putting the model in a state of continuous cyclical change.

This model can be effectively applied to understanding the design field, especially in integrating interactive mechanisms in critical and speculative design/design fiction. In my view, the essence of materiality/immersion is what Joe refers to asworld-building. Therefore, whether it’s Julian emphasising reality and clarity or Joe discussing world-building, it becomes very easy to understand by bringing the concept of materiality into a game experience. This strong sense of materiality fosters a belief, driving players/viewers/participants to integrate better into the project and become part of it. Nowadays, the pursuit is materiality, which naturally leads to discussions about the impact of capital on individuals. After all, capital excels at maximising materiality, such as the significant productions by internet and film companies affecting individual designers (such as the impact of “Black Mirror” on other speculative content). However, is the solution to this problem confrontational? From a gaming perspective, the existence and popularity of “Stardew Valley” might offer ways to address this issue. Materiality is not purely manifested through funding and technology; it has a deeper entanglement with signs. Works that rely purely on signs require extensive reading/viewing and comprehension. Therefore, adopting an insider’s first-person perspective can accelerate this process. At this moment, signs and materiality intersect. In some classic works of design fiction, when people hold a future handbook, the screen-based capital’s materiality advantage gradually collapses. This moment represents the fusion of participants’ material experience and signs. In my view, creating this fusion experience is the strength of designers. There is a willingness and initiative to enter communities and crowds, making simulations more convincing. Returning to the gaming perspective, designers, like DMs, have much to do when immersion is insufficient.

This brings us back to the initial question: outsider and insider. How can we make the experience of a speculative design/design fiction project closer to being an insider rather than an outsider (not criticising the outsider’s participation, but because an insider better emphasises the materiality needed to strengthen the narrative)? I believe the key is for participants to feel like they are creating a narrative for themselves or the characters they represent. This further theoretically supports Tobie’s emphasis that downstream participation is not just experience but also improving the design itself (similar to views mentioned in critical design curation). Two design theories emphasising participant creativity establish a clear connection through the entanglement of materiality and signs. This is a process of participating in constructing the narrative. In this process, insiders may begin to individualise the signs. I may no longer be a distant shepherd in Greek mythology but Zeus himself.

Additionally, the future product manual example illustrates the difference between design and other media. People can freely imagine and diverge. Unlike literature, film, and most video games, speculative design does not necessarily lead to single or multiple fixed endings. Although speculative design does not need to consider the complex conflict between participants and fixed narrative endings, this brings another issue: how to ensure participants create personalised narratives? The host/designer’s sufficient narrative guidance can enhance this experience. The two card games mentioned in the previous articles excel at this point, blurring the boundaries between insider and outsider.

There are countless design-based card games, with numerous designers attempting to reflect their worldviews or methodologies through these games. However, how many of these games are genuinely engaging? How can these card games generate interest and resonate globally, akin to popular board games or Dungeons & Dragons (D&D)?

I plan to host a speculative design workshop related to card games. The simplest prototype would involve improvisational storytelling centred around narrative clues and time. Where lies the fun in this? This project heavily relies on participant enthusiasm or a strong Dungeon Master (DM) to foster immersion and engagement. I referenced two classic works as case studies: “Peek” and the “Design Fiction Deck.”

The commonality between these two card games is their demand for a significant amount of creative storytelling. The “Design Fiction Deck”(The work kit of design fiction) primarily categorizes cards into Archetype (a clue with an archaeological perspective), Object (a statement of a future state), Attribute (an adjective), and Action (some actions). Participants need to link the contents of these four cards to tell a story, heavily depending on their narrative ability and creativity. The potential is high, but the floor is low, making it more like a brainstorming tool for creative professionals looking for a productive break.

The second game, “Peek,” has three core card types. The first is Entity Cards, the story protagonists with brief backgrounds. The second type is Plot/Feeling Cards, and the third is Report Cards, which state future facts. Additionally, there is a Critical Card that outlines scoring principles. There is also a timeline to complete the background and enhance narrative completeness and realism, allowing players to let the story jump through different times. Players’ unique cards are the Entity Cards, and using other players’ various types of cards in storytelling can earn extra points. This project has become a complete game incorporating the concept of time. However, its strategy of emphasizing new story creation requires highly engaging players. The most notable success case provided by the developers was a session led by a teacher’s compelling speech. Can this role be transformed into a permanent DM?

Overall, these two card games are pretty similar, with mechanisms that are also similar. The second game attempts to become more structured but still has high barriers to entry. The market already has many similar to the Design Fiction Deck, such as the D&D character creation deck, some mental health decks, and artist inspiration decks. These all emphasize the creative process. Although “Peek” has gone further, it still has a high entry threshold. How can we sustain a broader player interest in such games? “Peek’s” victory mechanism still relies heavily on players’ subjective initiative, making it a game for the talkative and creative. Is incorporating an objective scoring system or a crucial win/lose mechanism necessary, or would this divert attention away from storytelling?

Therefore, my project’s development might seek more references from D&D and some management-type board games to explore the non-narrative attractions in narrative games. This essentially lies in interaction and engagement, enhancing participation. Thus, the biggest issue with the two games mentioned is the lack of interaction after drawing cards.

So, how to incorporate a scoring system? For example, payment, consumption, and finally, seeing who has the most of something left. This is a question worth exploring in the future.

The main point I gathered about the planetary reference is that we live on different ‘Earths’—one represented by a globe of trade, another centered on security and conservatism (the Earth), and a future Earth planning massive migrations. People understand the planet differently, so how do we find a common, habitable place? If we are not living on the same Earth, the need for communication and exploration becomes increasingly vital. Although diplomacy might not always play a significant role, it becomes more critical when the international order is fragile. Even if the pursuit of diplomatic resonance starts off fragmented, we must not unify too swiftly as this could revert to an atmosphere dominated by the defense of interests. What we need is a new kind of diplomatic engagement, one that solves the challenge of bringing together people and issues with different stances.

From the perspective of speculative design and narrative, the author’s views are entirely accurate. Narratives require historical nodes as links to form effective content, and speculative design promotes dialogue and thought. Isn’t speculative design one of the solutions for future diplomacy? However, in the development of the discipline, some have proposed the next stage of CSD, which generally involves moving design from inspiring thought to stimulating action. Historically, design seems to have served to accommodate people’s needs and desires, so the current trajectory appears to be: serving desires, inspiring thought, and stimulating action. I used to think this iteration was an evolution, but given the current global context, I believe it is not—it should be seen as a cycle and coexistence. This is an enlarged version of a problem-solving and exploring cycle, also an expanded version of action research. Therefore, statically defining the stages of design development post-globalization is inherently problematic. How, then, should we view this cyclic coexistence from a global perspective?

During my undergraduate studies in Beijing, amidst a highly developed commercial environment, my learning was primarily aimed at problem-solving because there was a significant demand for commercial design; people’s consumer desires were not yet at their peak but were rapidly increasing. Designers were exploring the potential in various fields like the internet, exhibitions, e-commerce, mainstream entertainment, and traditional culture promotion. The market needed more designers to adopt innovative strategies that matched the times and environment to keep up with the possibilities created by established capitalist countries. Therefore, in a fast-developing commercial context, designing to solve problems was entirely rational. However, after arriving in London, I realized that the commercial consumer environment here is relatively stable. Perhaps London experienced a similar consumer boom and diverse consumer services decades ago as Beijing. In such contexts, design for consumption would evolve further. But actually, when most people, including myself, realize that an environment matches a certain type of design, society already has latent new needs. This is the dynamic nature of change.

Today’s globalization might disrupt some local tendencies, such as policy tightening on consumption during the COVID-19 pandemic and continued policy support afterwards, which could impact societal needs for design. Perhaps some developed countries will rediscover an economic vitality similar to earlier times, and in such moments, speculative design may shine once more. Research should not be limited by modernity, but studying the future detached from reality is a complex and challenging process. Yet, the concept of planetarity has furthered my understanding of the significance and necessity of exploring the future.

In complex situations, advocating action through design may indeed be meaningful, but no one can predict the future’s pace or progression. Perhaps in six months or even a month, people will be prompted to act by environmental trends, making design seem rushed and busy at the moment, but this is certainly not the predicament we desire. Thus, from this perspective, design does need to look to the future—a modernity’s future that genuinely troubles us and evolves from our problems. Perhaps compared to abstract and reality-detached explorations of artistry and origins, we should still embrace modernity, but it remains a matter of balance, much like the oft-discussed link between exploration and resolution. Keeping track of economic trends, global situations, and even regional circumstances might always be an essential part of design I hadn’t realized before.