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The goals of this paper are to:

• Articulate and illustrate the concept of “strategic design”;
• Relate it to other aspects of design;
• Pursue some of the issues it raises; and
• Suggest some principles for strategic design.

I will start with a working description:

Strategic design focuses on the design implications of the interactions of the products, and the processes for their use, with the whole user system it aims to serve.

The importance of strategic design is illustrated by the many examples of design excellence that have been undermined by poor strategic design – wonderful lessons, assessment tasks, and professional development activities that are never seen[1], while mediocrity (and worse) is widespread.

Section 1 outlines the concept, which will be developed throughout the paper, distinguishing strategic, tactical and technical design. Section 2 illustrates the concept with three areas of poor strategic design that are commonplace across education systems, and the design challenges each presents. Section 3 sets out to identify underlying causes of poor strategic design, and the contributions to it of client-funders, education professionals, and poor methodology. Switching to a more upbeat note, Section 4 describes four projects that paid close attention to strategic design and that have had substantial impact on the systems they aimed to improve. The final sections set out some principles for strategic design, issues that need further study, long and medium term goals, and immediate actions that can forward their achievement.

1. Aspects of educational design

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I choose here to distinguish three major aspects of educational design – strategic, tactical and technical[2] – if only to make clear what strategic design is not. (Illustrative examples are given in parentheses below.)

Technical design is the detailed process with which any designer is familiar. It is focused on the design of individual elements of the product (e.g. a teaching unit; a professional development module; an assessment task). Technical design is focused on the end users and their environment (students and the teacher in classrooms; teachers in professional development activities; the diverse students taking a test, and those who will score their responses).

Technical design is the responsibility of the lead designer of the unit.

Tactical design is focused on the overall internal structure of the product (e.g. a multi-year set of teaching materials; a year’s assessment; a professional development package). Typically it involves such things as:

• Specification of core design principles, selected in the light of prior research on learning, teaching, and/or professional development trajectories – or, too often, just marketing;
• Selection of specific learning and performance goals, including strands of progression;
• Specifying sequences and cross-connections within the materials, balancing linear coherence with diverse multiple connections (among concepts and contexts, standard results to learn and open investigations to experience).

Tactical design is a responsibility of the design team leaders and lead designers, working with their colleagues in the design team.

Strategic design, the focus of this paper, is concerned with the overall structure of the product set and how it will relate to the user-system. It applies in different forms to most of the products and processes that educational designers tackle: curriculum specifications; assessment; teaching materials; professional development processes and materials; building system capacity in various ways. Typically strategic design involves not simply the end-users (e.g. teachers and their students) but all the key communities involved who will affect decisions on the framework within which the users work – school leadership; school system leadership; politicians; parents; and various other professions, such as assessment designers and researchers.

Strategic design includes such things as:

• Identifying a specific opportunity for improvement;
• Selecting a set of improvement goals;
• Designing the overall structure of a set of tools that can forward them;
• Choosing or designing a model of change (whether, for example, comprehensive or more specific; one-step or gradual; curriculum-led, assessment-led, or professional development led) along with the phases, pacing and timing of implementation;
• Identifying the resources that are needed to do the job well (how much design effort, trialling, implementation support, and of what kinds), and the compromises that are acceptable;
• Recognizing and questioning constraints from the client’s grand strategy (generic performance goals; alignment; model of change; top-down v proposal driven); and
• Advising the client on the likely implications of their various decisions, including their likely unintended consequences and uncertainties – and suggesting changes.

Strategic design is a responsibility of the design team leadership, usually in negotiation with the client-funder – often government, a quasi-government agency, or a foundation.

There is no hierarchy of importance among strategic, tactical and technical design. While this paper focuses on strategic design, all three are important if the product is to work well. All three offer opportunities for creativity in the search for excellence – and for making ghastly choices that undermine the whole enterprise.

My own view is that poor strategic design is the most common cause of failure, while excellence in technical design is the main source of the magic combination of power, surprise and delight that characterizes really outstanding products[3] – as in music, art and literature, details matter. Tactical design is central to the coherence of the enterprise.

This framework complements Goodlad’s (1994) rather different analytic perspective on curriculum design, which distinguishes:

1. The socio-political perspective – the influence exercised by various individual and organizational stakeholders;
2. The technical-professional perspective – the methods of the curriculum development process;
3. The substantive perspective – the question of what should be learned[4].

This paper suggests that 1 must be part of 2, explicitly seen as part of the design and development process and proactively addressed as such.

Design control is the other concept that belongs here. How are design decisions made, and by whom? While all members of a design team will contribute ideas and suggestions on all three aspects of design, it is worth identifying how choices are made among the huge range of possibilities that any design task affords. The obvious principle is to make the best use of the diverse design talent available in the team. This hierarchy of decision taking will influence the design and its impact.

There are various approaches to design control. Some small teams work by consensus – this has obvious advantages but can lead to long unproductive discussions and suboptimal compromises[5]. In contrast, as in architecture, design control may rest with a single lead designer – or, sometimes, a small group who have worked closely together for a long time. Alternatively, different people may have design control over different aspects of the design, reflecting their strengths – e.g. as strategic, tactical or technical designers, as software designers, or in relation to specific learning goals.

Whatever the choice, I have found that it is important to make clear the locus of design control – this smooths and speeds the design process, while leaving most room for individual design flair.

2. Common failures in strategic design

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More often than not, educational initiatives that seek to improve student learning fail to achieve their stated goals. This paper makes the case that this is often, at least partly, due to poor strategic design. This is unsurprising. Strategic design is often assigned to committees of advisers by the client-funder, with both seeing it as a policy issue, rather than a design challenge that may be crucial to the success of the innovation. For government agencies, ad hoc decisions, dominated by practical policy considerations, are the norm. If we are to do better, we must understand the phenomena involved. I begin with some examples, moving on in the next section to look at underlying causes.

Those who seek examples of poor strategic design face un embaras de richesse. Many initiatives have doom written all over them – predictable, and often predicted. Some ignore well-known features of the system – for example, that most teachers teach to the test when high stakes are involved. Some fail to recognize that a design does not reflect its purpose – for example, that specifying performance goals involves more than a list of topics in mathematics or science. Some show no sign of any systematic attempt to reconcile their usually-ambitious goals with the limitations of the process chosen for achieving them – for example, that a few sessions of discussion will not enable teachers to profoundly expand their range of classroom teaching skills. The following three examples are all repeated regularly in many countries and school systems. The outline of each that follows focuses on its strategic design, the form of its failure, and the design challenges that must be overcome if we are to do better.

2A Assessment – the “only measurement” fallacy

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Policy makers in the Anglophone countries and some others are wedded to using tests of various kinds as prime instruments of system control. Tests are seen as reliable measures[6] of student, teacher and school performance, forming the basis of each school’s “accountability” to the society that funds it. Targets are set in terms of test scores that have serious consequences for those concerned. Students’ access to higher education depends on their test scores. In England, schools are ranked on test scores into “league tables” to guide “parental choice[7]”. Schools that under-perform may be “taken into special measures” or closed. Similar sanctions apply in the US.

Given the importance of tests, it seems obvious that their design should be a focus of attention. They should embody the full set of performance goals in a balanced way[8]. Yet this central responsibility of test providers and those that commission test design is widely ignored, and sometimes denied. Their focus is on the statistical properties of the test and the “fairness” of the procedures, with little attention to what aspects of performance are assessed[9]. Policy makers talk and behave as though tests are just “measurement”; they choose simple tests because they are cheap and, if pressed, argue that the results correlate with more valid and elaborate assessments. Most articulate education professionals dislike tests so much that, hoping to marginalize testing, they make no serious effort to improve the current versions.

This approach ignores two of the three roles that high-stakes assessment inevitably plays. In brief, it:

1. Measures levels of student performance, but only across the range of task-types used;
2. Exemplifies performance objectives – the types of task in high-stakes tests show what kinds of performance will be recognized and rewarded in a clear form that teachers and students readily understand; as a result, this set of task types
3. Dominates classroom activities – the task types in high-stakes tests largely determine the pattern of teaching and learning activities in most classrooms.

Thus assessment design is the unnoticed “elephant in the room” in the planning of improvement programs. There is plenty of evidence that “what you test is what you get” (WYTIWYG) is a fact of life (see e.g. Black and Atkin 1996, Barnes, Clarke and Stephen 2000). So in systems with high-stakes assessment, the tests are the de facto standards. While the UK national inspectors of schools (Ofsted 2006, 2008) remark with regret on the dominance of test-focused activities, teachers regard it as inevitable – after all, these are the measures of their performance that society has decided to value. More hopefully, where balanced high-stakes tests have been adopted, they have proven to be a powerful influence in improving teaching and learning in classrooms (see Section 4).

The design challenge

The design of well-balanced assessment in a form that can be used for accountability purposes has been a solved problem for many years. There are working examples around the world of high-stakes timed examinations that show what can be done, and how it can enhance learning. They are not perfect but are vastly better balanced than most current tests. History contains many outstanding examinations that enabled students to show what they know, understand and can do[10]. The strategic design principle here is to include task types that represent the full range of performance goals.

The cost and complexity of high-quality balanced assessment is greater than for machine-marked multiple choice tests; more complex tasks cannot be set and scored for $1 per student-test, a widely-accepted cost target in the US. (The massive cost of the class time wasted on otherwise-unproductive test-prep is generally ignored.)

There are also well-established ways of lowering the cost of assessment so that it can monitor standards as reliably as at present, while enhancing student learning. A strategy that has multiple benefits is to make teachers the prime assessors, providing them with good assessment tools and some training, and monitoring their scoring on a sampling basis. The many examples of this approach in practice show that it is also powerful professional development for the teachers involved. It links naturally to formative assessment in the classroom, which research shows to be such a powerful way of improving learning (Black and Wiliam 1998).

Strategically, it is actually unwise to hold costs for structured assessment down to current levels, well below 1% of the ~$10,000 per student-year that education typically costs. Feedback is crucial factor in determining the behaviour of systems of all kinds. Well–structured feedback on student achievement (Role A above), performance goals (Role B), and exemplar tasks for the classroom (Role C) are worth far more than the current investments in these areas.

Even when research-based methods of design and development have been used in assessment, notably in some test development, the commissioning specification has often been too narrow, excluding design solutions that would allow the realization of the policy goals. The purely statistical methods used in traditional psychometrics inevitably move attention from the kinds of performances that are assessed, which vary from subject to subject, to the statistical properties of the test[11].

 

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Criterion referencing is an attractively simple idea. The public accepts it and policy makers on both sides of the Atlantic seem to love it[12]. But it is a dangerous illusion. What is the problem? Fundamentally, it is that:

The level of difficulty of a substantial task depends on various interacting factors – increasing with the complexity, unfamiliarity, and technical demand of the task, and the autonomy expected of the student in tackling it.

Thus the difficulty of the task is higher than that of its technical elements, tested separately – a rich task that is challenging for a good 16 year-old student (called level 7) may require only mathematical concepts and skills that were taught in elementary school (level 4 and below). The “Consecutive Sums” task is an example[13].

OK, this seems fairly obvious – but why are criterion-based standards dangerous? Because, it is only fair to give students the opportunity to meet the criteria for the highest level they might be able to reach – this is achieved by testing each concept and skill separately with a short topic-focused item that has no other cognitive load (from complexity, unfamiliarity, or longer chains of reasoning) that would increase its difficulty. In the following task (from Grade 10 GCSE):

..note the fragmentation of an already straightforward exercise; this is done to test explicitly the two criteria:

• Can factorise a quadratic expression
• Can solve a quadratic equation

This approach is the only way that “standards” which define levels through detailed lists of concepts and skills can be made to work. UK mathematics tests now consist of that kind of fragmented performance which, because the stakes are high, also dominates classroom learning activities (Ofsted 2006, 2008) . Clear evidence that such fragmentation is commonplace can be found by comparing test items with standards, as above.

This range of task-types covers only a narrow subset of performance goals that is useless outside schools. This undermines student learning by not preparing students to think with mathematics about the more substantial tasks they will meet in life outside the classroom – the epitome of low standards.

The design challenge

How might one design “standards” that set clear learning and performance goals without narrowing the curriculum? There have been various attempts at improving criteria to include strategic and tactical skills (often called processes) at different levels. There is a fundamental problem here too: the same strategies and tactics help people solve problems across the range of difficulty. Again, it is tasks, not processes, that have well-defined “levels” of difficulty.

Since difficulty is a property of the task, not its separate elements, it can only be reliably determined by trialling the task with students, and recognizing student responses at different levels in the scoring scheme. Thus any valid level scheme should be based on a set of well-analyzed tasks to which other tasks can then be related through trialling.

2C The inadequacy of professional development strategies

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The importance in educational improvement of professional development for teachers is generally accepted. However fierce their disagreements on other matters, all agree that improvement in the quality of teaching is essential for progress, and that professional development has a key role to play. Every school system has a program (though, when funds are tight, the argument “We want our best teachers in the classroom” is regularly used to sideline it).

There is a wealth of literature on the evaluation of professional development. Classics include Guskey (2000, 2002), Joyce & Showers (1980; 1995) and Loucks-Horsley et al. (1998), Cohen et al (2001). However despite the recommendations from literature, such evaluation is not often designed to provide the kind of feedback needed for the effective design of professional development programs, which requires: well-defined PD designs; observation of the fidelity of their implementation; and detailed observational feedback on teacher classroom behaviour.

Aside from academic researchers, it seems rare for anyone to look for evidence of changes in the behaviour of teachers in the classroom following a professional development program; yet it seems clear that such changes should be the core goal of professional development. Why this mismatch? The dominant approach reflects ‘the professional principle’ – that teachers take whatever they value from the professional development experience, and that it is not appropriate for one professional to question the judgment or skill of another. This leads to a design approach that seeks ‘a civilized discussion between fellow professionals’. Though this approach may work well over a long period for some teachers, the limited range of teaching strategies shown by most teachers suggests that it is inadequate for most.

Those, including ourselves, who have compared teachers’ behaviour in their classroom, before and after specific programs, commonly find no observable change. Again why? Professional development programs are usually evaluated by their designers with questionnaires on how far the teachers found the experience valuable – a useful but very different outcome. As ever, feedback has a strong influence on design – programs are designed to be enjoyable for participants, and most do well in this regard. Such a mismatch between the main goals and evaluation criteria exemplifies poor strategic design.

Design challenge

While general pedagogical principles are important in teaching, good teachers also show a wide spectrum of specific high-level skills and teaching strategies. One characteristic, for example, is ‘role-shifting’ (Phillips et al 1988). Here the students take more responsibility for their own learning and performance, adopting traditional teacher roles (manager, explainer, task-setter). The teacher adopts facilitative roles (adviser, fellow-student, resource), talking less and asking more open and more strategic questions. However the need in this approach to follow students’ reasoning and to choose interventions appropriately requires deeper understanding of both pedagogy and the subject. Designing professional development that will enable typical teachers to acquire these new skills is a design challenge.

3. Features of poor strategic design

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Strategic design is about ensuring that the product interacts effectively with the system it aims to serve. The examples in Section 2 show lack of understanding of important aspects of the way the system works: that teachers teach to tests; that the difficulty of a substantial task is greater than that of its elements; that discussion of principles is not enough to enable most teachers to acquire new pedagogical skills. When the design ignores such properties, the products may be expected to fail and/or to have undesirable consequences. In this section we explore how this happens, and why it is so common. We start with a few observable surface features, before looking at underlying causes. Such features, illustrated in the above examples, include:

• Unintended consequences are a universal feature of poor strategic design. Policy makers assume that their initiatives will achieve their goals without negative side effects. Governments and their educational advisers regularly deplore “teachers teaching to the test”. Curriculum specifications are always intended to raise real standards. Professional development programs are only funded because they will forward their goals. Yet such unintended consequences have usually been predicted, by professional designers and some others.
• Faith in “expert” advice is an equally common feature of poor strategic design. Policy makers believe that, if they gather together “some of the best minds in the field”[17], the advice they receive will enable them to achieve their policy goals. That is a natural assumption in their world. Thus tests, standards, and professional development have traditionally been delivered in this way. The reasons it does not work are discussed below.
• Neglect of “gaming” Government initiatives are invariably introduced by presenting a set of admirable intentions with which few would quarrel. However, there is little awareness that the rhetoric will be much less influential than specific changes that promise to impact on those involved – “teeth” bite, while talk can and will be ignored. Thus everyone concerned is likely to “game” the system from their own perspective[18], while Government assumes that the spirit of the change will be sustained, however threatening the detail.

Underlying causes

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Beyond these observable features, what can we say about the causes of poor strategic design? Our understanding of any human system as complex as education will always be incomplete, but there are several common elements in strategic designs that undermine effectiveness.

• Underestimating the design and development challenge is an obvious corollary of the mismatch between intentions and outcomes that is shown in the usual failure to achieve the planned positive goals, as well as the unfortunate unintended consequences. Put simply, policy makers and other funders often fail to recognize that there is a strategic design problem, that what they want involves more than the straightforward application of the experience of good practitioners. Thus professional design groups regularly face the task of persuading clients to modify the specification so as to increase the chance that the product will achieve their goals.
• Timescale mismatch The timescale of politics (a year or two) is shorter than that needed for the design and development of substantial innovations[19], let alone that of implementing real educational improvement (a decade or two). Good design and development takes time, so there is often a conflict with system leadership’s wish for quick results.

• Imbalance between pressure and support When human beings are asked to do something new, they usually need tools, training and other forms of support to become proficient. For professionals this is particularly important when the change is profound, challenging their beliefs as well as their well-grooved habits of day-by-day practice (see e.g. Fullan 1991). The mathematics teacher trying for the first time to handle discussion in the classroom in a facilitative, non-directive way needs effective help, as does the typical test designer trying, for example, to develop new types of science problems that students will see as relevant to their everyday lives.
  
  Governments, however, make policy then apply pressure of various kinds to ensure that it is implemented. Underestimating the challenge, less attention is paid to the design, development and provision of support that will enable those involved to implement the policy effectively. The need for support is recognized but what is needed is not realistically evaluated; since effective support tends to be much more expensive than pressure, the need is underestimated. Further, since design and development of effective materials would delay implementation, they hope that “the market will provide” – and, at some level, it will. As for professional development, often an arbitrary sum is allocated for support and its design within this is left to those involved in implementation of the policy.

• Casual commissioning Underestimating design and development challenges leads governments and some other funders to underestimate the importance of the commissioning process. On the one hand, they try to specify in too much detail aspects of the design that need to be explored; on the other, often driven by wanting the product urgently, they fail to ensure that the emerging design meets the objectives they had set out. Equally, the selection of the design team is often too casual. A sense of urgency and cost concerns preclude sensible procedures like asking two or three groups to produce outline designs (Burkhardt 2008) along with some trial data on them[20].
• Unrealistic pace of change Governments often want to be seen to be “solving the problem”, moving swiftly to the end goal – through the introduction of a new curriculum, for example. A one-step approach with a clear end point has advantages. However, the size of the step is limited by how much change those involved can absorb and implement with the support provided through tools and collegial support through networks. Often, the support is less than anticipated, the changes in practice are not made, and the design intentions are undermined.
  The alternative gradual change approach defines a direction of change but adjusts the pace to be digestible. Well-engineered replacement units can support profound changes in short bursts. Professional development aims for specific improvements in practice. The main disadvantage of this model is not its speed, which can easily meet the decade timescale of real change, but its lack of glamour – a ‘big bang’ change can inspire both society and (some) professionals.
• Political need “to be seen to be doing something” In this media-driven age, where outrage sells better than good news, politicians are constantly bombarded with ‘public’ demands to improve this or that, or to “make sure that this can never happen again”. If examination results improve, the exams are getting easier; if they go down, the education system is to blame. Governments seek to handle this challenge with a string of initiatives[21] to show that they are active in meeting society’s, or is it the media’s, wishes[22].
  
  This is potentially a source of profound concern since, from this perspective, the success of the initiative in meeting its declared goals is irrelevant. Any comeback will be far in the future when the minister (or even the Government) will have changed; however any initiative turns out, the media will always be able to find something to stir public concern. Most of the politicians I have talked with are not as cynical as this implies but, though they may be keen to do things well, keeping the media at bay is an absolute priority.

This last point generalizes – the priorities of the various key groups in the system that are affected by the product will not be well-aligned. Some will be resistant to change, or simply want a quiet life. Other groups will each have active agendas that may be in conflict. Understanding the system dynamics, and minimizing the impact on the core goals of the design, are the foundation of good strategic design.

Contributions of education professionals

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The examples and discussion above may give the impression that bad strategic design is a monopoly of policy makers. However, the education professions are a major contributor. The strategic design of innovations in education, whether for government or other funding agencies, is still usually based on the advice of groups of expert practitioners. Documents are drafted, circulated for comment, and revised, then policies are adopted. But in designing an innovation, such advisers are extrapolating from their own successful experience to the new area in question – and assuming the changes will work well in the hands of other, often less expert, practitioners. Because extrapolation is notoriously unreliable, this craft-based approach can work well for minor changes but, for substantial innovation, it underlies the limited impact and unintended consequences that so often occur.

Typical symptoms of the inadequacy of the input of educational advisers include:

• They never say that something can’t be done – while professional educational advisers often criticize government initiatives as “the wrong thing to do”, they rarely say the policy goals cannot be achieved.
• They never say “We don’t know how to do it” – probably because, if anyone did, the client would find someone else, more malleable even if less competent.
• They never try to define the time and resources that it will take to design and develop the tools and processes needed to achieve the policy goals; the government or funder takes a decision as to the resources it wants to allocate, to development and to supporting implementation, and the profession accepts that decision, even if the resource allocation guarantees failure.
• They ignore system realities of the various kinds described above.

The contrast with research-based professions, like medicine or engineering, is stark. There, research-based methods are used to develop solutions to offer to policy makers, with evidence on their power and limitations. The designers estimate the support needed for successful implementation of the policy, and its costs. When something has not been done before, they say so and estimate the timescale and effort that will be needed to have a good chance of success in that area. So governments don’t make policies that are unachievable, or that they cannot afford. (Imagine a research team saying “We’ll cure cancer in 5 years with whatever funds you choose to give us” or “We’ll have all our energy from nuclear fusion in 10 years”.) In this as in other respects, education is more like “alternative medicine” – ever willing to offer a treatment with good faith but with no solid evidence that it works.

The methodology gap

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A common feature of the examples in Section 2 is that systematic empirical development through trials, before implementation, would have revealed the sources of failure and might well have suggested improvements in the designs – the standard methodology of systematic development.

How does this happen, for example, in the UK where Government is formally committed[23] to evidence-based policy formation? Indeed, two elements in the standard innovation cycle are now firmly established as part of government policy making. Using medical nomenclature, they are:

• Diagnosis: insight-focused research, much of it government commissioned, regularly provides policy makers with diagnostic information on the strengths and weaknesses of current practice in many fields, including education.
• Phase 3 trials: pilot field testing of treatments before implementation for evidence on outcomes is Government policy; however, because these strategic decisions are not seen as a design problem by those who make them, the purpose of those at every level who take part in these pilots is to show that the initiative “works”, rather than to learn how to improve it. In practice, driven by the short timescale of politics and the need to be seen to be proactive, governments reject only egregious failures.

The key gap in the methodology is a research-based link between these two elements, namely: Design and development of initiatives using research-based methods.

This is analogous to Phases 1 and 2 of the development of treatments in medicine[24] – the initial small scale Phase 1 explorations leading, in selected successful cases, to their careful systematic development in Phase 2.

Such research-based design and development involves, sequentially:

• Review of research, of craft-based knowledge, and of earlier innovations;
• Design, imaginatively exploring a broad range of design possibilities;
• Development through an iterative process of feedback from small-scale trials;

sifting out at each stage those candidates and aspects that prove less promising.

Piloting in representative circumstances is the final step before large-scale implementation. Its usual role is a summative validation of the initiative, rather than providing formative and developmental feedback. The prior phases of research-based development, too-often by-passed in education, are where the product is refined through rich and detailed feedback, its quality and robustness enhanced, and unintended side-effects discovered.

There is a fuller discussion on how to improve the contribution of educational research to practice in (Burkhardt and Schoenfeld 2003) and (Burkhardt 2006) as well as in other contributions to this journal. They point out the many obstacles in the way of useful research that are placed by the current academic value system in education.

There seem to be three main reasons for government resistance to such improvements:

• The lack of awareness of strategic design as an issue that needs as much attention as other aspects of design;
• A reluctance to lose the freedom to make policy decisions based on “common sense” in response to public pressure and/or political opportunity;
• The greater cost and time that professional design implies, modest though the cost is in comparison with the costs of implementation.

All these reflect the belief, widely held in politics and the media, that education is an area where specialized knowledge is needed only for details. “After all, I went through the system and look what it did for me” is a common, usually unspoken, feeling.

4. Successful strategic design: some examples

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In this section I outline four initiatives where the strategic design appears to have played a substantial part in their success. This will help to balance the gloomy picture painted so far, showing that effective strategic design is possible, and will inform the discussion of principles for strategic design in Section 5. In selecting these examples, I have looked for designs that combine:

• Educational ambition, breaking new ground in the system they serve;
• Some large scale impact (compatible with the goals!);
• Influence on designs that followed; and
• Are in English (with apologies to heterophones).

In each case, there are links and references to more on the materials, including examples[25].

4A Nuffield A-level Physics

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This course set out to engage 16-18 year old UK students with the processes of scientific investigation, and to bring some of the major innovations of 20th century physics into school. The origin of this project lay in concerns, common after Sputnik in 1957, about the state of science education and the shortage of scientists. In the absence of a national curriculum specification, this context gave the team freedom to innovate, with success or failure measured by the level of voluntary participation by schools.

In Issue 1 of this journal, Paul Black described the thinking and the effort behind the project, including its strategic design as well as the new and ambitious educational goals and the tactical and technical design moves that were devised to achieve them (Black, 2008). So here I shall be brief, simply bringing together the main strategies.

• The course was developed in collaboration or consultation with the key constituencies, including university physicists, experienced science teachers, both as team members and as participants in trials, schools that would trial the course, equipment manufacturers, publishers, teacher trainers, school district authorities, an examination board, and the funding agency – the Nuffield Foundation.[26]
• A radically new type of A-level examination was developed, reflecting the innovative nature of the course. The unprecedented number of components ranged from a multiple-choice test through more extended examination tasks to a student report on an individual experimental project.
• Since entry to university in England largely depends on the results of A-level examinations, negotiations ensured the wide acceptability of the new examination, in particular for university admissions. The government body charged with oversight of the examinations had also to agree[27].
• The construction of the course was seen as a piece of engineering, a job to be done despite inadequate knowledge of how some of the basic components in the learning process work.
• Two years of trials in a group of schools provided vital feedback, not only for the detailed design, but for acceptability by teachers, and for getting the timing right. These trials did result in some big changes to the original plans.

While the content of the course, which challenged the existing norms for curriculum, pedagogy and examinations, was the core of its success, these strategic elements in the design seem equally essential.

The project had major impact on physics teaching in and beyond the UK. The course and its examination continued for over 25 years, with a related successor now in use. It pushed back the boundaries of what was seen to be possible in school physics, bringing in quantum mechanics and thermodynamics. The project influenced the subsequent development of many more conventional syllabuses and textbooks.

4B Connected Mathematics

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This course was designed to improve the teaching and learning of mathematics for US students aged 11 to 14. It was developed through a multi-year project, involving at its peak 12 full-time-equivalent people in the design team. It was funded by the US National Science Foundation, as one of 13 projects that aimed to realize the goals set out in “The NCTM Standards” (NCTM, 1989). Developed by the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics as part of a national concern at the quality of mathematics education, these standards set out learning, teaching and assessment goals for school mathematics across the age range 5 to 18.

Connected Mathematics (CMP), as its name implies, pays particular attention to tactical design issues, including the coherence of, progression in, and connections between the various aspects of mathematics. The curriculum materials build on the authors’ decades of experience in prior projects. The contribution in this issue (Lappan, Phillips, 2009) by its lead designers, Glenda Lappan and Elizabeth Phillips[28], sets out the thinking behind their approach and the way they worked.

The strategic design of this and the other NSF-funded mathematics projects followed a standard US model involving: several iterations of planning, design, development, field-testing, and evaluation, followed by publication, marketing, and support – with regular revision to provide new editions.

Some of the design challenges they faced are universal:

• How far can one incorporate changes in the way mathematics is done outside school (using calculators and computers for most routine procedures, for example) and the research findings from the cognitive science and mathematics education on student learning, while remaining acceptable to a society that has a traditional picture of “school math”?
• How far can one demand higher-level teaching skills and still serve current teachers? What support for professional development should one assume?

Other challenges are peculiar to the US, and to this project – for example:

• While in most societies any innovation will face traditionalist counter pressures (and probably should, as a test of its worth), in US mathematics education there is a particularly well-organized, well-funded lobby that attacks any sign of reform.
• Unlike the other three cases in this section, the designers were unable to significantly influence the high-stakes tests that are used for school accountability in all US states, with the usual strong influence on classroom activities. The research indicates that students in schools using CMP perform at least as well on such tests as comparable groups in more traditional curricula but the much higher performance in the extra dimensions of understanding that CMP enables is not assessed or, therefore, publicly recognized.[29]
• Particular attention had to be paid to the listed requirements of the large “adoption states”, notably California and Texas, where approval is important for direct impact, influence on other states, and commercial viability through sales. These requirements are often far from coherent, reflecting the diverse wishes of the different groups on the committees that compile them. They always add up to far more than any teacher could teach, let alone students learn[30] – altogether a designers’ nightmare that has gotten worse as individual school districts impose “pacing guides” that, week by week, say when each topic should be taught and tested.
• The materials were published and offered for sale in competition with many other curricula, including the four other NSF-funded middle school curricula, some of which have strong features, as well as the traditional curricula that have long dominated the market. (These might be seen as ‘comparison groups’.)

In spite of these formidable challenges, CMP has achieved major impact on US schools. It has a substantial share of the market and is central to any discussion of middle school mathematics education. What are the factors behind this success?

• Inherent quality of the material All authors will say that this, the tactical and technical design, is the key to success. One would like this to be true, and the quality of CMP is widely acknowledged. On the other hand, the traditional curricula that have dominated the market, and still have a large share, succeed despite their only obvious virtue being familiarity to the customer and client groups[31]. “That’s the proper way to teach math, like when I was at school.”
• Quality of the design team The success of the Connected Mathematics curriculum, which is written for both teachers and students, reflects the diverse talents of the design team. The team consisted of authors, graduate students, graphics designers, teacher collaborators, researchers, and an advisory board made up of mathematicians, mathematics educators, teachers, administrators, and parents.In addition, consultants from the sciences, engineering, reading, English language learners, and special education provided valuable insights for specific aspects of the curriculum.
• Understanding and growing a “niche market” The authors have long been at the heart of the main organizations in US mathematics education, not only NCTM but NCSM, the smaller organization of “math supervisors” in school systems who strongly influence the choices of materials. This has given them a deep understanding of the needs and constraints perceived by these key constituencies. This has informed the design of CMP. Those who were looking for real change, long advocated within this community, found a workable curriculum that met their ambitions.

4C VCE Mathematics

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In the late 1980s, the Victoria Certificate of Education was introduced to all Victorian schools as a single pathway for all students to complete secondary school and, at the same time, as a way in which universities could select students for particular courses of study. The VCE was designed as a course of study to be taken over two years in a range of subjects, constructed according to the same set of principles and accredited by a single authority representing government and other key stakeholders.

Assessment within the VCE would be a mix of school-based assessments and end-of-year examinations. Under the Mathematics Study Design, the course had to provide time for teaching and learning in:

• The development of standard skills and applications;
• Problem solving, applications and modeling (hereafter called problem solving); and
• Mathematical investigations (hereafter called projects);

Students had to demonstrate that they had worked on all these ‘work requirements’ in both Years 11 and 12. For all final year (Year 12) mathematics courses, the assessment balance was set at 33% for school assessed coursework and 67% for end-of-year externally set and externally graded examinations. Students’ work was assessed by their teachers and the results were moderated by groups of teachers from nearby schools. Here we report only on those changes related to the introduction of problem solving and projects.

VCE mathematics took a fresh look at the range of types of performance that are important in mathematics, and developed ways to assess the expanded range in a high-stakes assessment. The design of the problem solving and modeling coursework broke new ground in many ways. While the timed examinations were based on standard task types, the VCE included the following innovative features:

• Mandating that, as part of the assessment, students tackle non-routine problems and mathematical investigations (‘projects’) in both pure mathematical and real world contexts;
• Providing substantial time for these tasks, both in class and at home, with strict protocols for teachers to authenticate that the work done outside examination conditions had really been done by the student;
• Providing each year new ”starting points” and “themes” for problem solving and modeling tasks and projects that were compulsory for students to work on – on the one hand these gave students the opportunity to define their own specific problems and solution paths and, on the other hand, ensured some mathematical depth in the topics involved;
• Developing criteria for scoring students reports on their problem solving and projects, along with systems for teachers to moderate results across schools; and
• Designing a test to authenticate coursework.

In the early years of the new examination, students had to undertake a 20-hour mathematical project over 4 weeks, and an 8-hour problem solving task over 2 weeks in each mathematics subject[33]; this was later changed because of workload so that there was only one of these tasks for each subject.

The genesis of this innovation involved people who were at the forefront of Australian developments in mathematics education. Ross Turner and later Max Stephens managed the design and implementation and smoothed its passage into reality, always a challenge for innovative high-stakes assessment. (VCE results are a key factor in university entrance decisions.) Susie Groves and Kaye Stacey[34] had pioneered the introduction of problem solving into teacher education at Burwood College, now in Deakin University, with “The Burwood Box” and associated teaching materials for schools (Stacey and Groves, 1985). Both were seconded to the examination board to develop the very substantial written support materials, which explained the new processes of problem solving and modeling to teachers. When concerns from universities about standards and authentication demanded revisions, Peter Stacey and Barry McCrae played a leading role in the re-design process, including the authenticating test.

For about the first decade of VCE Mathematics, the assessment tasks were developed each year by groups including university mathematicians, mathematics educators and practising teachers, and provided to schools by the central assessing authority. They showed teachers the activities that were important for students to engage in, and provided topics that contained substantial mathematical content related to the course material. Sample scripts at each grade level, marked and annotated, were supplied to ensure consistent marking by teachers and assessment supervisors.

What were the features of strategic design behind this success?

• Changing a high-stakes examination The research study described below (Barnes, Clarke and Stephens, 2000) shows how the change in the high-stakes examination led to corresponding changes in classroom practice throughout secondary school.
• A fine balance of ambition and realism The changes sought and achieved were very ambitious, reflecting a world-wide consensus on best practice in school mathematics in a form that was (and is) rarely found.
• Development from feedback The curriculum and assessment authority was prepared to fine-tune the design to make it work.
• A consensus for change in the system The changes in VCE were mandated by the system as a whole; this design team used the opportunity provided by a climate in which “the status quo was not acceptable”.
• Tests as a monitoring device Assessing and authenticating extended pieces of student work is always a challenge. Tests have been used in various ways as part of this process; the use here as a monitoring device was both original and effective in restoring public confidence.

In an associated research study, Barnes, Clarke and Stephens (2000) looked at changes in what happened in school classrooms following this change in high-stakes assessment. This compared classrooms in Victoria with those in New South Wales where, though the rhetoric promoting problem solving was similar, there had not been corresponding reforms in assessment. They found that problem solving activities involving mathematical tasks of the kind introduced into the tests were introduced into classrooms, not only in the final year but throughout the secondary schools involved – though, in the lower grades, perhaps more in form than in substance. David Clarke wrote:

“Most striking in this analysis, was the evidence in Victoria of the ‘ripple effect’ (Clarke & Stephens, 1996), whereby the language and format of teacher-devised assessment tasks employed in grades 7 to 10 in Victorian schools echoed their officially mandated correlates in the 12th grade VCE to an extraordinary level of detail. ”

The classroom visibility of problem solving activities and assessment emerged as the key difference between the two states.

Because it tracked changes, this study is important in providing evidence of a causal connection between task types in high-stakes assessment and activities in the implemented curriculum – not simply the well-known similarity of the two (see section 2A).

As often happens, the success of this assessment model was ultimately undermined by outside events – problems in subjects other than mathematics caused the curriculum and assessment authority to remove any restrictions on the type of school-based assessment. Gradually, schools decided it was easier to give assessment that mimicked the remaining examinations, and so the experience for students of engaging in substantial problem solving and investigations gradually withered.

Were there weaknesses in the strategic design? Whenever the school-assessed component was strongly guided by official requirements and material for substantial investigations was supplied, it went well in the refined system. But when both formal requirements and support were withdrawn, it was seen as too challenging. This suggests:

• Task design is critical The system-level decision to give teachers freedom in the choice of assessment tasks again was a crucial error in strategic design. In other systems this move has often been justified as “giving teachers and students freedom for creative work” but, in a high-stakes assessment, it is no surprise that they give security and predictability a higher priority. Control over, at least, the range of task-types used and how frequently the tasks must be changed is central to the assessment of non-routine problem solving and investigation.
• Performance goals should be spread across task types The designers’ decision to focus the formal examinations entirely on “facts and skills” and “analysis” (slightly longer but still routine questions) meant that problem solving and investigations, confined to the school-assessed component, were vulnerable to the above change. This decision seemed to make sense, given the time appropriate for substantial investigative activities. (The case study in section 4D, below, shows that such things can be assessed to some extent in timed examinations.)
• Support materials are essential Exemplar problems and projects were important in supporting teachers and students in this new kind of work; however, they were only developed for Year 12, whereas teachers of earlier years could have benefited similarly, raising levels of performance throughout the schools.

A notable feature of this innovation, in comparison with the others in this Section, is the fluidity of design control. Key decisions were taken by committees with changing chairs and membership; the coherence of approach that was maintained over a decade perhaps reflects that of the mathematics education community in Victoria at that time.

The initiative has had effects in other Australian states that persist, with some increasing emphasis on real problem solving nationwide (see e.g. Curtis & Denton, 2003).

4D Testing Strategic Skills – “The Box Model”

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The development process was also unusual. The first round of trials[36] was based on detailed classroom observation by a team of observers of about six teachers teaching the whole unit. The feedback meetings were based on detailed reports:

• First, on the style of each teacher, without and with the new materials, as seen by the observer concerned and any cross-observers; then
• Working step-by-step through the material, all the observers described what happened in ‘their’ classrooms.

To limit the amount of discussion that so easily runs on when consensus on design details is sought, I developed the principle of design control – while empirical feedback and design suggestions are strongly encouraged by the session chair, there is no search for consensus; feedback is absorbed and decisions taken by the lead designer of the units, in this case Malcolm Swan.

This approach to developmental feedback is, of course, much more expensive than, for example, relying on samples of student work alone. The modules were an example of “slow design” (de Lange, 2008). Each took about a year to develop and cost in all around $20,000 per lesson.

These materials had significant impact. The modules were bought by most of the schools that used this examination. The student responses to the tasks in the actual examination showed a reasonable range of performance. Since this was a new area of performance, it is no surprise that the level was much higher than in the exploratory tests at the beginning of the project.

This kind of ‘switch on’ gain is educationally both valid and valuable – the students acquired important new skills and the board’s examination reflected more of their stated goals. There is a lesson in strategic design here. In contrast to attempts to raise standards in familiar areas of performance (adding fractions, using percentages, etc.), the introduction of important new areas, previously missing in examinations, if it is done well almost guarantees substantial success.

Again, this innovation foundered because of unconnected events – after only two years, the assessment at age 16 was restructured under larger organizations. Characteristically, such administrative changes absorb all the attention and energy of the bodies concerned for several years – working out the new arrangements and, incidentally, suppressing other innovations. It did not prove possible to carry over the relationship with the JMB to its broader successor body (NEAB, now AQA).

When policy makers weigh the likely benefits of reorganization, their speciality, they rarely recognize the cost – not only in disruption but in stopping ongoing improvement.

Some of the task types we introduced have persisted in other examinations, though usually in a more routine form. The “replacement unit” approach to step-by-step improvement has been successfully used by other designers – though often without change in high-stakes examinations, limiting the impact.

Comments on these successes

5

These examples show certain common features that may be more general:

• While a funding agency provided the opportunity, the design initiative came from a group with many years experience and recognized skill in the design of innovation, a deep understanding of the area they chose, and knowledge of the results of its long-term research agenda.
• The team was aware of the strategic design challenge and addressed the needs and concerns of all the key constituencies centrally involved – successfully, at least for a while.
• Well-aligned changes in the system’s high-stakes assessment, when achievable, proved a powerful lever for increasing impact.
• Both an immediate “backlash” and a natural process of gradual erosion are to be expected; reflecting resistance to change, they need to be covered by persuasive arguments as well as evidence, and by ongoing “engines for improvement”.

Any innovation in an education system is exposed to political and other events that will “blow it off course” (in a way that, for example, medicine and engineering are not). This is likely to remain true unless and until politicians and the public are persuaded that systematic research, design and development produces better solutions than the “common sense” that so often determines policy.

5. Principles for strategic design

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In this section, I move on from examples and analysis to suggest some principles for strategic design. While none is essential for substantial, beneficial, ongoing impact on the system, they each seem to make it more likely.

Any such principles must, at this stage, be tentative; my hope is that they will be useful as a focus for the discussion that the paper aims to stimulate. To that end, I complement the principles with a list of issues – questions that need investigation as we try to understand better, and to improve, the interaction of innovative designs and the education systems they seek to improve. Finally I summarize the top-level goals that this work implies and some immediate actions that would forward them.

Strategic design principles

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The following seem to be features of successful examples, while they have been neglected in the design of other innovations that failed. (They are phrased in the imperative.)

System awareness: Seek to understand the dynamics of the system you seek to improve, in all its interacting parts, and use it to guide the strategic design of the innovation.

Realism: Study the system as it is, not as it is intended to be, and the forces that shape decisions and actions of all the key groups, from politicians, parents and the media to teachers and their students; don’t assume resources that have not been available without valid assurances that they will be.

Targeting: Be clear and specific about improvement aims, and the groups of users you are designing for – development should reconcile the goals and outcomes for those groups.

Alignment: Try to ensure that the set of tools and processes you develop form a coherent whole, in themselves and in interaction with the rest of the system – all the key players should be aware and “on board”.

Robustness and flexibility: Since unexpected shocks to your plans are inevitable, try to design the set of tools and processes so that various elements can function independently in a range of contexts of use. For example, design so as to avoid “lethal mutations” (Brown & Campione, 1996) and to create designs that “degrade gracefully” (Walker, 2006)

Consensus building: Seek consensus on goals and entailments prior to design and throughout the development process – a profession that speaks with one voice has more influence on policy than one where diverse opinions reach policy makers. Consensus does not just happen; it often needs to be built through explicitly designed processes.

Communication and marketing: Be aware that any large-scale impact of your work will be influenced by the public, guided by the media. Improve your communication skills with these groups, and your network of contacts.

Space for excellence in tactical and technical design: Work to retain as much space as possible for the creative talents in your design team, and the systematic development that refines the products – good strategic design is worthless without them.

“We must educate our masters”: Seek to make policy makers, funders, and designers aware of the crucial role strategic design will play in the success of the enterprise in turning its goals into large-scale impact.

Big challenges need big teams: The range of skills needed to carry through a design and development program, with high-quality in all its aspects, needs to be reflected in the design team – often, particularly for large scale developments, only a multidisciplinary team can understand and work with the various communities that will interact with the product.

Strategic design issues

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At a more detailed level, there are various issues in strategic design which merit systematic investigation[37]. Referred to above, they all relate to aspects of choosing a model of change for an innovation. The appropriate choice will depend on features of the existing system, and on the resources likely to be available to support the change. A key variable, usually neglected, is the pace of change in their practice that the crucial performers (often teachers) are likely to be able to achieve, without corrupting the intentions of the innovation – a too-common outcome. Such issues include:

How big a step? How ambitious should a change be?[38] For a given level of support, if the step is too large, few will take it without stumbling; if it is too small, why bother? If we are ambitious, can we define and support a pathway of progress for the key performers, particularly teachers, so the latter can gradually move to match our ambitions in their classrooms?

‘Big bang’ v incremental change Should we seek to achieve our goals as a single major change (e.g. introducing a new curriculum, as in 4A and 4B, or incrementally, as a planned sequences of changes (as in 4D)?

Small steps can be less expensive, more easily sold, and more digestible to users. A comprehensive reform is more conventional, and more satisfying to many, including politicians who like to “solve problems” (though other fields, like medicine and engineering, move incrementally). The trade-offs are fairly clear; the best choice less so – and system dependent.

Time scales How can we meet short term political thinking and achieve anything useful? We have noted the fundamental mismatch between the time-scale of politics and that of significant educational improvement. Politicians need to show results well before the next election. Education systems are built around professionals, skilled in aspects of their work through well-grooved practices; changes in those practices, particularly those requiring new skills, take time – for the system as a whole, typically a decade or more. For example, the recognition in the US in the early 1980s of the need for change in mathematics education led, through the NCTM Standards in 1989, to the NSF-funded curriculum projects, whose products began to impinge on the textbook market around 2000 – the process of institutionalization, in which these curricula become the accepted norm, still continues[39].

I believe there is opportunity for creative thinking on ways to reconcile these two timescales. One approach is planned incremental change, which can provide politicians with a sequence of year-by-year successes to claim within a decade-long improvement schedule that learns as it proceeds. I expect that there are others.

Standard slots v new opportunities Should we try to improve an existing entity (e.g., a school subject or an examination) or to get a new one accepted, as a replacement or as an alternative? This dilemma has faced many innovators. For example, statistics education, which has developed internationally as a problem-based subject built on interpreting real data, has long been unhappy with being seen as part of school mathematics (though that needs much more of the same approach!). This discomfort remains but attempts to get a separate subject slot in the timetable have had limited success. (It is available as an option in the UK for age 14 upwards.)

That otherwise-excellent book Mathematics and Democracy (Steen, 2001) even suggests that quantitative literacy[40] should be taught separately from Mathematics – without questioning why society should give so much curriculum time to a secondary school mathematics curriculum that is both non-functional and non-motivating for most students, and the adults they become.

Cross-subject teaching of subjects, though often advocated, has proven even harder to establish; schools are still organized around subject slots, each with its own agenda.

The dilemma, and the trade-offs, are clear. Little or no impact in a pure form versus wider impact of a debased version. Some novel approaches have been tried, with success on a small scale – for example, a whole-school project day every week or two. It is worth looking for others.

All these issues of strategic design deserve more study and experiment.

6. Improving strategic design

6

Finally, I propose a set of long and medium term goals, together with immediate actions that seem likely to forward their achievement.

Long term goals

1

Recognition by policy makers that education can and should become a research-based field, like medicine where:

• Insight-focused analytic research on working systems is the best route to diagnosis of problems and their likely causes;
• A long term agenda for improvement is complemented, as in other fields, by a regularly-reviewed sequence of steps along the way with sensible timescales;
• Good engineering, integrating insights from prior research and development, design research, systematic development and evaluation in depth, will produce the most effective solutions;
• Strategic design of their initiatives should be as professional as the tactical and technical design already (sometimes) are, using the same methodology; and
• Much better evaluation of products and initiatives in education[41], covering in some depth both the various outcomes and the conditions under which they were achieved.

For this we will need:

• More researchers choosing projects and using methodologies that provide the in-depth evaluative evidence that policy makers need on products and processes that are widely available, yielding reliable evidence on “what works, how well, under what circumstances”[42]; and
• More people trained in engineering research methods to design and develop robust solutions.

In mathematics education we will need to learn to emulate science education in developing:

• Effective machinery for building a consensus on what is needed, and the steps along that road, leading to;

• Unified recommendations for innovation that reflect government realities.

Medium term goals

2

Recognition by policy makers that (as in health care, for example):

• High-stakes targets (i.e. tests) for (teachers and schools) can distort priorities, ensuring that the implemented curriculum in most classrooms is no better than what is tested. The good news (as in Section 4) is the substantial evidence that better tests can be an effective lever for improvement.
• What is achievable within the timescale required and resources available is:
  • An empirical question that can only be reliably answered by imaginative design, systematic development and evaluation in some depth;
  • Usually much less than is desirable – or is promised by “experts” who are keen to please government but have no valid evidence for what they recommend; and
  • Will require funding with at least a few–year timescale, involving competitive design groups and independent evaluation with agreed criteria and methodologies (c.f. NICE in health care).
  • After so many failures from “obviously needed” reforms, there is political capital to be gained from a sensible research-based approach.

Short term actions

3

Over the next year or two, we can move to strengthen the case for the above goals by:

• Identifying, as in section 4, examples of successful design, then studying the various aspects of their strategic design in some depth, and in comparison with parallel innovations where these are available;
• Identifying, and specifying in some detail, alternative models of change, analyzing their key features and the expected cost-benefit analysis;
• Refining and strengthening evidence of payoff from giving medium-term support to high-quality design teams with proven track records in well-defined areas; and
• Developing effective channels for communication and influence on policy makers – one of ISDDE’s prime goals to which this journal is a contribution.

There is much to be done to review, strengthen and implement these proposals. Better understanding of strategic design, and how it interacts with other aspects will surely be part of it. I believe such an enterprise is worth increased attention and, insofar as it succeeds, will forward both learning and teaching and the development of the profession of educational design.

It is worth remembering von Clausewitz’ definition of strategy as the ability to “make the best use of the few means at our disposal”.

Acknowledgements

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The thinking behind this paper has built on discussions over many years with fellow designers, project leaders and funders. I am particularly grateful to Phil Daro, Alan Schoenfeld, Mark St. John, Glenda Lappan, Janice Earle, Quentin Thompson and my colleagues in the Shell Centre, Daniel Pead and Malcolm Swan. Others, notably Susan McKenney, have provided helpful suggestions. The limitations are my own.

I hope that responses to this paper will help us collectively to move forward in our understanding of strategic design, how to improve it, and how to persuade funders that it is an area of design that needs both imagination and systematic development.

References

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Footnotes

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