Your solutions may seem promising at first glance, but they might not be as effective as you believe. When you strive to create innovative answers to complex challenges, it's common to face skepticism. In the early stages of an idea, evidence supporting your claims may be scarce, and a little scientific scrutiny could reveal significant flaws in your concept.

For many, this critique of design can be quite entertaining. Numerous online resources discuss various product design failures throughout engineering history.

Such scrutiny might seem harsh, but it is an essential part of the design journey. Innovation is not a solitary pursuit. I appreciate this type of content because I operate on the other side of the spectrum, constantly scanning the technological horizon for potential threats and opportunities, despite the lack of concrete evidence.

Starting my career as a scientist, I hold a doctorate in fluid dynamics. However, my curiosity led me away from wind tunnels towards understanding how truly great ideas emerge and exploring formal frameworks that streamline this process.

For those venturing into the realm of discovering new clients, problems, and solutions, the content aimed at debunking innovative thinking highlights a crucial aspect of the discovery process that aspiring designers should grasp and incorporate.

Today, design often takes precedence over the more traditional title of "inventor," who used to be celebrated as the genius unraveling problems or extracting value from nature. This modern role is accompanied by various tools, appealing graphics, well-crafted marketing strategies, and interviews where designers recount their moments of inspiration.

Many enjoy dismantling fragile ideas that don't stand up to scrutiny. The true measure of an idea lies not in its appeal to investors, marketing strategies, or accolades. Such superficial aspects mean little if scientific evaluation reveals the idea to be fundamentally flawed.

In my professional experience, I am surrounded by individuals eager to point out my mistakes. This feedback is vital for those who aspire to innovate. The delight others derive from critiquing your ideas underscores a fundamental lesson for anyone involved in the design process:

Your ideas are not solutions; they are questions.

Those polished graphics do not offer answers. Instead, they pose inquiries. In the discovery phase, a sound design concept should consist of a series of pertinent questions. If you haven't invested much yet, a good idea should merely prompt questions.

The rigor behind quantitative analysis incurs costs due to the need for laboratories, scientists, engineers, and experiments. Critiques of poor designs online show that some fundamental scrutiny doesn't have to be expensive, but it's still crucial, preferably conducted by someone skilled and eager to challenge your ideas.

You cannot innovate in isolation, and those who critique others' ideas represent the kind of scientific mind you need on your team. These "scientific assassins" thrive on debunking concepts; for them, your idea is a target.

Embrace this feedback. Such rigor can save you. If solid ideas are merely questions, your role as a designer is to ensure those questions are clear and focus on the proposal's critical aspects.

For instance, suppose you recognize the need for water in a dry area. You identify potential users through formal tools and devise a strategy to obtain water from an overlooked source. You propose, "We could extract water from the air." This is a common design idea that online critics often dismiss, and rightly so—it’s a definitive statement.

The genesis of any design process should present such an idea as a question:

Is there enough moisture in the air to sustain life? What energy is required for extraction? How long will the process take? What dimensions, weight, and power will be necessary for collection? How much water can be gathered per hour? What alternative uses exist for this energy? Will this design violate physical laws? Has anyone attempted this previously?

The uncertainty surrounding these inquiries might make you seem less of a genius. However, framing an idea as a question leads to essential considerations before spending someone else's money.

Why don't innovators ask, "Has anyone tried this before?" This straightforward question should accompany every new idea. It can save you considerable resources. Often, a quick review of existing literature reveals numerous prior attempts to tackle a similar problem. Investigating prior art is central to the design methods I apply. If your idea isn’t unique, that’s often a good thing—it saves time and money in development.

If you aim to innovate, surround yourself with intelligent individuals who will take pleasure in critiquing your concepts. While this process may feel uncomfortable, remember that the lab is where your reputation can be safeguarded.

If scientists and engineers advise you to halt your progress, they might help you avoid significant embarrassment.

This is the agreement between innovators and those in scientific fields. Aspiring innovators must be willing to make fools of themselves, ask the difficult questions, challenge established beliefs, and venture into the unknown.

In exchange for sacrificing some credibility, scientists and engineers are there to rescue you. When you begin to falter, they will step in to assist.

If you return from your exploration with valuable insights, everyone benefits. However, it is more likely that you will come back empty-handed.

If you are genuinely thinking outside the box, scientific scrutiny will likely demonstrate flaws in your idea. If this happens, be grateful to those who provided the critique, as they may have saved you significant financial loss, your reputation, and years of effort. This can make innovation feel tedious.

If done correctly, you will generate concepts and ask questions that will serve as targets for a laboratory full of scientists throughout much of your career.

Design is an iterative process. Entrepreneurship should involve a cycle of building, measuring, and learning, where business ideas are constructed, tested, and refined. However, before investing money in anything, the inception of a new idea must also undergo this iteration. Start small. Find a scientist, some paper, and a pencil. If you progress beyond this stage, conduct a small experiment. Seek out a skeptical scientist for a thorough critique. This rigorous evaluation is essential to counter the overconfidence of believing you are the first to think of something.

Adopt this mindset early in your process. Don’t leave it for others’ amusement at the end. The value of an idea does not come from passion for a project, belief in a team, appealing graphics, or even the amount of funding it attracts.

It is about evidence.

Cold, hard evidence. This is why the design techniques I employ are straightforward, rapid, and yield numerous ideas, most of which are disposable.

Holding onto a single idea too tightly can transform you from an entrepreneur into a politician. With just one idea to cling to, you must persuade others of its value. I have witnessed this scenario repeatedly. An innovator becomes fixated on a concept they believe to be exceptional, only to spend years frustrated in their attempts to convince others of its worth.

Conversely, an innovation process that generates numerous ideas allows you to embody a scientific mindset. A robust innovation framework will create countless questions, and if you lack the expertise to answer them, you can cast your ideas into the lab and hope others can provide the necessary validation.

But more often than not, those ideas will not hold up.

I am not referring to the high-volume trial-and-error approach famously employed by Edison, which was criticized by Tesla for its inefficiency. "A little theory and calculation would have saved Edison 90% of his labor." Harsh, yet true.

Each question carries financial implications, as answering them incurs costs. The goal of innovation is to ask the right questions and utilize the laboratory efficiently. Despite your best efforts to formulate succinct and focused inquiries, a success rate of around ten percent should be expected and appreciated. If your success rate is significantly higher, you may indeed possess exceptional genius.

Or perhaps you simply need to step a bit further outside of that box. The laboratory serves as a safety net, allowing you to explore unconventional ideas without the risk of squandering others' resources.

Unless you're a billionaire, you only get one chance to do that.

So why pursue this? What’s the motivation? What reward makes it worthwhile to endure the challenges? Someday, you might pose the right question. If scientists and engineers return with positive results, you could find yourself in business. However, I wouldn’t bet on it.

If you are passionate about innovative exploration, keep this crucial fact in mind:

Your ideas are not solutions.

Your ideas are questions.