the limits of empathy and expansiveness of community.
One thing that consistently captures my attention about the thought leaders and colleagues I work with is how they approach their craft—the principles and processes they rely on to generate ideas and solutions. A key skill often emphasized is the ability to cultivate empathy: to understand and share the feelings of others. The prevailing assumption is that by tapping into someone’s emotions and experiences, we can better identify their needs and design solutions that work for them. At times, we may even convince ourselves that we understand their needs more clearly than they do—and in doing so, position ourselves as capable of designing the perfect fix.
This is a core concept in human-centered design (HCD), a process that places people at the heart of product and system development. Empathy is positioned as the gateway to insight and innovation. It's a methodology that has led to breakthrough products and has been praised by respected voices across industries. But with all its potential, it’s important to ask: who exactly are we centering in this process? And just as critically, who is being left out?
While HCD has offered transformative solutions, there are many instances where well-intentioned design has failed to deliver equitable outcomes. In fact, some of the most celebrated ideas and systems have inadvertently caused harm to entire segments of the population. These individuals or groups were either not considered, not consulted, or were broadly generalized during the design process. We see this in examples like algorithmic bias documented in films such as Coded Bias, where certain technologies disproportionately misidentify or disadvantage women and individuals with darker skin tones.
The reality is that many organizations have faced backlash, public scrutiny, or even legal action due to the unintended consequences of flawed designs whether in products, workplace policies, digital platforms, or physical spaces. These issues don’t arise from a lack of innovation, but from a lack of inclusion in the foundational stages of design. When certain voices are consistently absent, it’s not surprising that systems are built with gaps that others are forced to navigate.
On the flip side, when marginalized communities aren’t completely overlooked, designers may exploit communities by extracting knowledge and monopolizing off of their ideas. It’s a subtle, yet grand form of plagiarism, appropriation and fraud. The work of Sasha Costanza-Chock and design justice promotes design practices that are community-led and dismantle structural inequity. Sasha’s book, ‘Design Justice: Community-Led Practices to Build the Worlds We Need’, explores real-world, case studies of product ideas and platforms that have been extracted from communities and then made inaccessible to the source. It also explores the interconnectedness of systems. Nothing we do or create is exists in a vacuum, it has a trickle effect on society, ecology and economy.
This is not to claim that ALL forms of HCD or classical design practices are wicked or corrupt, but unless we proactively and intentionally design with inclusion and equity at the forefront, we risk making unnecessary errors, developing solutions that don’t work for all and being slammed with lawsuits. Whatever your motivation may be, whether it’s to “do the right thing” or be part of sustainable and innovative solutions that are resilient, adaptable and cutting edge, know that empathy will only get you so far. The magic happens when we have humility, and acknowledge that we can’t solve on behalf of others but that brilliance lies in community and not in a single person or designer. And so, beyond just emphasizing with people, what if we designed with people to co-create services, products, and structures that actually meet their needs?
A myth we often hold as truth, is that empathy allows us to “remove our shoes and walk in another’s”, or that we can “remove our lenses to see through the eyes of another”. By having this mindset, we trust that empathy is the way we can centre others and design for them. However, our lenses are shaped by our culture, upbringing, personality, values, beliefs, and motivations. Although we can try to understand someone else’s experience, we also need to recognize that we will never FULLY understand it. Below is an example from a training I conducted as a part of the EDI Advisory Board at Brands For Better that illustrates this concept.
I can’t take off my blue lenses and just exchange them for your rose coloured lenses. Instead, I would be overlapping the lenses, and when we do that, we create purple. We can never completely remove the lenses through which we experience our world. Our lenses will exist as filters and influence any work we do and all things we design. We all carry biases that will seep their way into our work. The surest way to mitigate individual bias is to work in diverse groups and have multiple people engaging with the problem or design with their unique lenses.
So where might we make shifts to design differently?
Co-design > Classical design.
In classical design, the user is regarded as a “subject” that a researcher extracts insights from to generate a report with findings that is then provided to the designer. The user may never interact directly with the designer. Whereas when co-designing, the user is regarded as a co-designer that has shared decision making power. They are brought in as contributors rather than held as external subjects. This creates a community of practice.
This is a figure from the Convivial Toolkit on what co-design truly looks like vs classical design practice
Collaborative > Extractive
Uplift, empower and recognize the community of co-designers that contribute to your designs. This can look like granting access, providing adequate compensation, capability and skills building and forging relationships between participants. Have a high regard for reciprocity and mutual value exchange. A fair question to keep top of mind: what is the value that co-designers gain from this experience? How can they co-own the product or what will be offered to them in exchange?
Proactive > Reactive
When engaging with communities, build relationships early and don’t start with the solution. We might come up with a fully-baked solution and then bring in “users” to confirm and validate our approach. This may be in a testing phase or via a review gate before launching. By already having a defined solution, we risk having to go back and retrofit (which takes time and money) and reinforce existing power dynamics that, we, the outsiders (and designers) who have not experienced the problems, are the ones prescribing the solutions and it could be difficult for users to express that the solutions actually are not in service of their needs. By being proactive, co-designers are brought in at the very beginning of the process (or as early as possible) with continious exploration and relationship building.
Facilitation > Expertise
Hold your role as a practitioner and facilitator vs an expert. Lean on and trust community expertise and lived experience. Trusting community expertise means granting shared decision making and for communities to have equal power (if not greater power) in what the outcomes are. As a facilitator, hold the container and facilitate activities that offer tools/frameworks for community members (co-designers) to express themselves, collaborate and participate in ways that are flexible with a variety of mediums. No DEI practitioner is an expert of every community and all topics (even those who claim to be). DEI leaders should not be relied on to view content through a inclusive lens (as a check-box), because it is impossible for any one person, no matter how extensive their practice, to be able to do this effectively if they are not involving community members most impacted. There are cultural nuances, language considerations and other conditions that matter that a single “DEI expert” who is not part of the community can ever fully comprehend. Direct and equitable engagement with diverse groups is often the missing link that results in harmful design.
Open source > Closed source
Meaningful progress on complex social and organizational challenges can’t happen in isolation. Because we operate within interconnected systems, lasting change requires collective effort across individuals and institutions. When strategies and practices are treated as proprietary or withheld, it slows down progress and can even cause harm. To move forward, we need to let go of scarcity mindsets and be willing to share ideas, tools, and learnings openly across communities. The hardest part often isn’t knowing what needs to change, it’s in how we follow through: unlearning old habits, working in new ways, and taking responsibility for outcomes. Whenever possible, make your resources accessible, and encourage others to adapt and build on them with proper credit and recognition.
This is in no way an exhaustive list of principles and I’m continously learning and practising in my daily work. What I know for sure is that solutions lie within communities and that the diversity and complexity of humanity needs to be considered, not only at the end or centre, but continuously throughout the design process. Empathy may be how we stretch, but community is how we grow and expand. By engaging in community, we flex our ability to de-center our own world (and egos) and see the interconnectedness of many worlds and systems.
my journal excerpt from 2009 titled ‘empathy’. re-reading this now I realize what assumptions I might have made. I didn’t get curious, but instead created a story about a stranger based on observable qualities. As you read this, consider, is it possible you may have ever done the same?
Late Sunday evening I stand in line
at the store behind a homeless man
buying a big bottle of brandy with his
last twenty dollars, and a sick feeling
consumes me when I wonder why he
spends the money on booze and not
on a haircut, or why he won’t use it
to find a job, I question why the alcohol
appears friendlier to him than working
towards a better future, until I realize
this man may not believe
there is anything left for him in this world,
and how familiar we all are with the feeling of
not wanting to try anymore, of convincing
yourself you are too far gone past the point
of no return to want to spend time or money
on the future when the past has been so
much less than kind, so I empathize.
And I don’t tap his shoulder to interrogate him,
I say nothing, I smile. I am not judging him for buying the bottle.
I understand the struggle of just being awake,
and it’s okay if it helps him to forget who he is
and why he doesn’t want to remember anything
about reality when he wakes up, just for one night,
because we’ve all been there.
As I leave, he watches me go, and I think he
knows exactly what I was thinking, or at least
I hope he does, because I try to put myself
in his shoes for a minute and they are not
comfortable and it is not at all comforting to
know he will wake up in the morning with less
money in his pocket and less hope than before.