The Opportunities and Challenges of Inclusive Design

In recent years, social design—an interdisciplinary practice that applies design thinking to societal issues—has begun to show its unique value in grassroots governance and community development across China. The “Diguá Community” project serves as a compelling example. It demonstrates how designers can not only visualize complex social issues but also catalyze localized transformation through direct action. Yet behind these efforts lies a persistent tension: while designers genuinely strive to create positive change, the surrounding structures—funding mechanisms, policy support, education systems—often lag behind.

Take the Diguá Community project. In its early phase, it was sustained almost entirely through the team’s personal resources and volunteer efforts. With no stable funding or institutional backing, sustainability was extremely fragile. This is not an isolated case. Many university-driven social design projects in China face similar issues: constrained by academic calendars, high student turnover, and a lack of continuity with local communities. These projects often live or die based on the dedication of a few individuals—once they leave, the initiatives can quickly dissolve.

Another common challenge lies in the mismatch of values. Even when collaborating with corporations, where funding is more secure, inclusive design often gets sidelined. Designers may propose deep, user-centered solutions, but these are frequently dismissed due to cost or complexity concerns. Celebrated features from exhibitions often disappear in commercial rollout. This highlights a fundamental contradiction: social design emphasizes slow, context-sensitive innovation, while business logic demands speed and scale. As a result, inclusive design remains peripheral—an optional feature rather than a core objective.

Scalability is another systemic bottleneck. Even when a project succeeds locally, it often fails to replicate in other cities. This isn’t due to flaws in the design method itself but rather the absence of localized, intermediary organizations to carry it forward. China still lacks a robust network of civil society institutions that can support and scale grassroots design. Government support, when available, tends to be short-term and procurement-based, lacking long-term developmental strategy.

Despite these challenges, inclusive design continues to offer promising pathways forward. As the Diguá Community evolved, its team shifted roles—from leading the design to supporting and facilitating it. They moved beyond the idea of simply “empowering space” and instead began integrating design as a service and coordination tool. During the project’s Chengdu phase, the team emphasized that scaling social innovation across communities is often a false proposition; differences in organizational structures, resource allocation, staff capacity, and resident needs mean that one-size-fits-all replication rarely works. For example, activities like the “Family Letter” initiative encouraged residents to express their needs and reflect on their lives, reshaping public engagement from the ground up.

More importantly, these interventions mobilized resources across sectors—government bodies, NGOs, and local talent—allowing residents to actively participate rather than be treated as research subjects. The team’s positioning of “Diguá” as a technical and service-oriented support system, rather than a dominant design force, created new opportunities for collaboration. Drawing inspiration from the Chicago School and situational theory, they grounded these frameworks in Chinese realities, fostering a form of public participation that was both culturally resonant and practically effective.

This transformation extended beyond fieldwork into knowledge production. The book Diguá Community was designed as a practical handbook for grassroots government workers. Written in a straightforward, modular format, it catered to fragmented reading habits. Its high ratings and positive feedback from local officials in places like Xiong’an, Zhejiang, and Xinjiang highlight its real-world impact. As Professor Zhou Zishu emphasizes, the true value of social design lies in reaching the broader public and front-line workers—not just the academic sphere.

Social design also raises important questions for education. Many design students in China today are focused on studying abroad, brand-name universities, or high-paying jobs, with limited engagement in local issues. But projects like Diguá remind us that meaningful design education must encourage students to face complexity, think independently, and commit to long-term engagement. The “Social Design in China” public course held in Chengdu brought real community problems into the classroom, helping students turn abstract ideas into actionable plans. This approach not only builds practical skills but also nurtures a socially conscious design mindset.

Ultimately, social design in China stands at a crossroads. On one hand, it is fueled by urgent social needs and a new generation of idealistic designers. On the other hand, it must navigate structural constraints related to policy, resources, and market logic. Future designers must balance commercial viability with social responsibility, and work across disciplines to build new organizational ecosystems. Only then can inclusive design move from the margins to the mainstream, transforming from concept into action—and reshaping the very structures of society in the process.