Designing for Yes

It may not surprise you to read that I attend a lot of events with energy people where we (mostly) speak the same language. And that can be really helpful when we are trying to build consensus around a policy or practice. The downside I observe is that it can also lead to a level of accepted common assumption, as in: “we all know that the average person doesn’t care about their energy consumption, they just want their lights to turn on.” For the most part, that is likely true, but in an era where “affordability” has become a critical concept, I think more people actually are thinking about their energy consumption. At the very least, they are thinking about their energy bills, so maybe we, as an industry, shouldn’t operate under the assumption that they don’t care or that they aren’t thinking about it.

Part of the issue is a related assumption: that the average energy consumer isn’t willing to change their behavior. This argument tends to fall into several perceived scenarios: “they” don’t care, it’s too complicated to help them care or understand, or people just don’t want to change. More and more, I question that. I have two examples that demonstrate why.

The first example is the mini computer that most of us now carry around in our pockets or, more likely, have permanently attached to our hand. That’s right, it’s the age of the iPhone. Please don’t tell me we can’t change the way people consume goods or services when my very own 84-year-old father can now order all sorts of gardening supplies from his bed when he wakes up at night with his next plan of action. In a world of OpenTable, Uber and Lyft, Amazon, and automation, we have all adapted and changed our behavior. I can now get from my home in Providence to a meeting in Boston on the commuter rail without taking out my physical wallet once. Sometimes, I don’t even bring it along with me at all. I’m just saying: people can adapt.

My next example is IKEA. When Ingvar Kamprad founded IKEA in 1943 at the age of 17, I don’t think he could have foreseen that he would completely transform the way people furnish (and in Germany, even power) their homes. Within a decade, he had adopted the flatpack (yes, it did already exist), and a revolution in how people bought and furnished their homes began.

So why does any of this matter? Well, if we are going to succeed in an energy transition, and I, for one, believe we need to, then we need non-energy wonks to care. We need to bring people along for the ride. We need to make it easy, and right now, unfortunately, it often is not. Most importantly, we have to start from a place of believing that behavior can change, because it already has countless times in countless industries for countless people.

Here’s the part we often skip: people don’t change when we insist they should. They change when the path is clearer, the choices make sense, and the benefits are visible, immediate, or meaningful. Our job as leaders, advocates, designers, policymakers, utilities, and innovators is to build that clarity and make that path navigable.

The energy transition will be shaped not by what we debate on stage, but by what people choose in their homes, their cars, and their everyday routines — the kitchens, driveways, and bill-paying moments where life actually happens.

Let’s make those choices easier.
Let’s build a system people can — and want to — participate in.

Designing for yes is how we turn intention into impact.