Helena Hansson, HDK Valand

What is Frugal Design?

The word frugal means simple or resourceful. Frugal design can be described as the art of doing more with less, for many, and together. A key principle of frugal design is using local resources and materials. Both the method and tools must be rooted in the people present and their existing skills. When working with frugal design, we start by understanding the context: where are we, who is here, and what resources and conditions exist in this place?

In one project in Kenya, we began, as designers often do, by using post-it notes for prototyping. But it didn’t work. We also noticed that language became a barrier to participation. Instead of relying on verbal discussions, we used rope-making as a method, creating machines and tools together with participants so everyone could join on equal terms.

Another example comes from my work in Linnarhult, in northeastern Gothenburg. We were building a combined stage and outdoor cinema with only one power drill but ten hammers. To ensure more people could participate, we chose to hammer instead of screw, allowing ten people to join instead of just one!

This approach contradicts my industrial design background, where the goal is to create universal solutions that work everywhere. With frugal design, we do the opposite. We start with the context, and general solutions emerge as modifications. By grounding the process locally, we foster recognition, encourage participation, and help people feel ownership of the project.

What is the Designer’s Role in Frugal Design?

The designer’s role is to create a process where many people can participate and where others, beyond the designer, have the space to plan and shape the outcome. We don’t lead the process in the traditional sense but instead support and weave it together. I often collaborate with local organizations and involve craftspeople who then guide the process. For instance, Karl Hallberg, who runs Sloydtrukk—a mobile crafts workshop based in Fengersfors, Dalsland—teaches craft techniques to children and young people, enabling them to bring their ideas to life.

In one case, we started with a shared desire to build a stage and outdoor cinema. A young engineer drew up the design, and Sloydtrukk developed a method to bring the idea to life through co-creative activities. Given the clay-rich location, piling became the chosen method. Special tools were designed to involve as many people as possible, such as a double saw and a piling mechanism requiring at least eight participants. Using co-crafting as a design method, we harnessed the area’s material and human resources, creating a process where many could join, even without specific crafting skills.

How Do You Engage Participants?

One common challenge is that the people we want to involve don’t always have time when we do. Many of them work or study during the day. Should we compensate them for taking a day off, or should we schedule our process for evenings or weekends?

To spark interest and lower the threshold for participation, you can hold prototyping sessions in places where your target group already feels comfortable. As sociologist Richard Sennett (2012) points out, the win-win effect is central to collaboration. A public outdoor kitchen, for example, can become an important meeting space where people gather to talk and cook together. Maybe that’s the best place to start prototyping?

What Opportunities Do You See in Using Prototyping to Shape Streets?

I’d argue that we can reframe the prototype and sketching process as the actual outcome. Through my research, I’ve learned to embrace the temporary and processual. A design is never finished; it’s always a prototype. For something to be truly sustainable, it must be able to evolve.

We also need to value the prototype as a kind of democratic tool—a shared learning object that builds skills and triggers new processes. It’s important to create space for collective reflection and be willing to discuss failures. Failure is part of the process. We’re not aiming for perfection. People aren’t perfect, so maybe the spaces around us shouldn’t be either. Perhaps imperfection makes us feel more at home? We’re striving for “good enough,” and that mindset opens the door for more people to participate.