The 32nd Design Fundamentals Seminar: Systems and Resistance: On the Limitations of Design

Design has the perspective of treating things as a “system” functioning rationally, scalable, and replaceable. However, the social movement in Minamata, for example, is also a human resistance against systemic design. By nature, design creates alternative realities and results in the transformation of the creators of those realities. Is it possible to overcome the social distortions that design has been involved in through the power of design?
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

Lecturer

Tomohide MIZUUCHI（Associate professor, Kyoto Institute of Technology, Center for the Possible Futures）

Design researcher, project director, and associate professor at Kyoto Institute of Technology’s Center for the Possible Future .
He is engaged in research to rethink the nature of design itself, especially in the areas of social innovation, systemic design, and collaborative design with a wide range of actors, as well as practical projects. His publications include “Designs for the Pluriverse(2024, co-director)” and “Visual Literacy Studies (2018, co-author)”.

Date

January 30. 2025 Thu. 18:00~20:00 (Opening from 17:45)

Venue

Printing Laboratory 2F, Kyushu Univ. Ohashi Campus + Online

*All interested parties are free to attend. If you wish to attend, please apply using this application form (lectures will be given in Japanese only).

*If you wish to participate online, the URL and other information will be sent to the address you entered in the form above on the day of the event. Please download the latest version of Zoom in advance.

Host

Center for Design Fundamentals Research, School of Design, Kyushu University

Co-host: Future Design Course, Faculty of Design, Kyushu University

Contact: Professor Toru Koga

designfundamentalseminar＃gmail.com（Please replace # with @.）

The 32nd Design Fundamentals Seminar（PDF）

Review

Wicked Problems and Systemic Design

” Wicked problems” refer to situations that cannot be easily predicted or controlled using a simple cause-and-effect model. In the example given by Prof. Mizuuchi, even if the UK were to transition all its vehicles to electric in order to reduce CO₂ emissions, it would also need to reduce the total number of cars. This is because achieving full electrification would require roughly twice the world’s annual cobalt production. Moreover, much of the cobalt supply comes from small-scale mines that operate under poor working conditions.

If we push forward with vehicle electrification without addressing these systemic constraints, the demand for cobalt will drive up prices and further worsen working conditions. In the end, electrification may fail to progress as intended. To avoid such unintended effects, it is crucial to recognize the complex feedback loops between multiple factors and to understand and visualize the system as a whole. This is the fundamental idea behind systemic design.

In systemic design, instead of relying on a linear cause-and-effect model, complex feedback loops are mapped out in correlation diagrams. The goal is to identify key leverage points—critical intersections within the system—where targeted intervention can be most effective.

Mizuuchi’s explanation reminds me of the contrast between Western and Eastern medicine. In Western medicine, particularly in the treatment of infectious diseases, the dominant approach follows a simple causal logic: identify the pathogen and eliminate it with antibiotics. In contrast, acupuncture therapy—rooted in Eastern medicine—focus on the body’s overall condition, stimulating specific points in the nervous system to restore balance. In this sense, systemic design can be seen as an Eastern-inspired approach emerging at the edge of Western technology.

However, even if we shift our perspective from linear causality to a loop-based systems model, one fundamental issue remains: every system has an “outside,” something beyond the designer’s perception. This raises doubts about whether systemic design can truly escape the unintended consequences of wicked problems. After all, both the cause-and-effect model and the systems approach share the same underlying goal: control.

Mizuuchi critiques this illusion of control inherent in systemic design and cites Dan Hill’s words: “systems doing, not systems thinking,” (Design Council and The Point People, 2021, System-shifting Design, p. 25.) In other words, correlation diagrams should not be seen as definitive visualizations of an entire system but rather as provisional tools that evolve alongside design practice. If this is the case, then designers must abandon the idea of fully grasping the system from an external perspective and instead accept that they are embedded within it. This, however, challenges the fundamental premise of systemic design: that meaningful intervention is only possible after fully understanding the system.

Mizuuchi’s exploration of systemic design brought him to Minamata, where he found his own methodology deeply shaken. He was particularly influenced by the ideas and actions of Masato Ogata, a fishman, survivor of Minamata disease. Rather than seeking recognition through the conventional pollution compensation system—where harm is certified, and compensation follows—Ogata rejected this framework entirely. He built his own “Tokoyo-no-fune (Boat for Eternity)” and rowed to the Chisso Minamata factory every day, setting up a tent at the main gate and simply engaging in conversation with Chisso employees on their way from work. By stepping beyond the fixed roles of victim and perpetrator, Ogata exposed his own presence in a way that invited the Chisso workers—who had been buried in their roles—to reconnect as human beings. In doing so, he helped restore relationships on a deeply personal level.

While systemic design attempts to understand complexity by mapping feedback loops, the Minamata practice takes a radically different approach, rejecting conventional frameworks of recognition and intervention in favor of a direct engagement with human existence. Systemic design relies on correlation diagrams as a vehicle to navigate complexity; Ogata’s “Boat for Eternity” serves as a same kind of navigation—that moves toward an unknown destination.
Seen in this way, these two approaches, which may appear to be opposites, share a fundamental similarity: both seek to transform the self, others, and ultimately society, without knowing in advance where the journey will lead. Both believe that by stepping beyond rigid, existing systems, they can create space for meaningful change—and that this change will be for the better.
(KOGA Toru)