A Curious Animal, We Are

Curious has two meanings; we (humans) exemplify both: (1) We are inquisitive and eagerly chase after whims. (2) We are also, at times, peculiar—acting in ways that are difficult to understand, or unexpected. Our devotion to information represents some of each meaning: we dread being swamped by information yet can’t resist seeking more. 

That isn’t surprising (or unique to humans) given that uncertainty is ever-present and inevitable. Nor is it surprising that we devote so much attention to searching for ways to increase predictability. We routinely take steps to try things out, pondering possibilities all the time: “Let’s see,” “What if,” “I wonder what would…,” “I doubt it’ll be like that,” “We can give it a try”. In other words, prediction is built into our approaches to reducing uncertainty and achieving understanding.

We test the water, dip in a toe, check to see, put out feelers, and rarely realize how much we rely on such explorations.

While these efforts are commonplace and don’t qualify as “experiments” (in our conventional understanding of them) they share core characteristics of a Small Experiment Mindset: curiosity, seeking answers, and resisting overwhelm. Small experiments are intended to be manageable rather than comprehensive and useful rather than sophisticated. They inspire new questions and achievable next steps. Living in a world of inevitable uncertainty and craving to make it more predictable, we frequently resort to experimenting with possibilities.  Often “go small” makes more sense than what “go big or go home” advocates. 

Cautionary Notes 

Small experiments are created to answer a challenge, to learn something! If the outcome isn’t what we expected, the small experiment is not a failure; it provides useful information and ideas for a step forward. 

Failures, however, are possible! Minimizing them begins before doing the small experiment. That’s the time to anticipate hindsight. What will we be sorry we hadn’t considered ahead of time? What do we expect to learn? Does it matter?  Why might we decide to abandon the project midstream? Anticipating what we can learn is at the heart of designing a useful small experiment. 

Asking these kinds of questions is a good step, at the same time, chasing all the “what ifs” is a fast path to overwhelm! A small experiment (well, any experiment!) cannot answer everything or rule out all, or even most, of the alternative explanations for the outcome. First, consider whether the likely outcome is so obvious that it would be a poor use of time and other resources to proceed. Solution: “If it’s not worth doing, it’s not worth doing well!” Then, consider the likelihood of buy-in. If it’s unlikely any outcome will be put to any use, reconsider! There is no need for yet another well-intended effort that is instantly forgotten.

Greater Applicability 

Many “what ifs” relate to the applicability of the small experiment in related contexts. Would a similar organization have similar outcomes if they adopted our study’s findings? Would our findings apply to a different group within our organization?  

Since there are no definitive answers to such questions, the best approach is probably to accept such limitations. Sometimes, however, an additional question in the study design allows us to examine whether it makes a difference. For example, while how long someone has been with the organization may not be the central concern, it may be useful to understand if it plays an important role in the outcome of the small experiment. If it’s easy to collect that information, the results can be compared for relatively new vs. old timers. While this might be a useful strategy, additional questions can also undermine ‘manageability’, the primary tenet of small experiments. It’s one of those “less is more” moments, a time to resist temptations. 

There are many such moments, including these common temptations: asking too much from participants, burdening personnel tasked with doing the study, and collecting so much data that making sense of it is too challenging. Keeping the small experiment small has the dual benefits of gaining answers that will be used and inspiring the next small experiment to explore a newly emerging question. 

SEE-faring 

Where does the SEE framework fit with any of this? A simple answer is that SEE is integral to small experiments.  

Small experiments start from a curiosity, an exploration—not just for their own sake, but to address an existing challenge. Such meaningful engagement enhances understanding, enriches mental models, and often leads to greater clarity and effectiveness.

Alas, greater understanding can also raise more questions, and these temptations can tangle with our bandwidth and capability. The answer to that predicament is to keep the small experiment small; manageability is key! 

The ”answer” to the underlying challenge – the reason for the small experiment – is to consider ways the environment could be changed. How can the virtual or temporal environment be modified to increase a sense of competence? What tweak to the social situation might reduce employees’ feeling overwhelmed? Could addressing cultural workplace dynamics increase participation and feedback, so that teams can identify common goals? How can we get answers to such questions in a manageable way that provides useful and usable information?  

Manageability is key! Baby steps are much bigger and more impactful than no steps! Resisting temptations to take on too much or overcomplicate the experiment is a challenge, but doing so can make the difference between learning something as opposed to causing frustration and wasting goodwill. Even a small step forward is a gain; it may provide useful input.  

If all goes well, a Small Experiment Mindset will become standard operating procedure when future challenges arise. 

Three Small Experiments in Getting Unstuck

I have been facing a creative block for months. The popular adage is that the only way to get past a creative block is to blast through it. You just have to keep showing up and writing, painting, drawing, or whatever it is you do. The work itself will eventually cut through the block and your creative juices will once again flow freely.

But what if this strategy isn’t working? That’s where I find myself. After spending several months showing up to my studio, staring at some works in progress, staring out the window, tidying up a bit, and maybe finally haltingly putting pigment to paper, I am still stuck. Giving my brain a tidying up has helped, but only incrementally.

What more can I do?

My default when I have a problem is to gather information and try and think my way out of it. But with complicated problems, thinking only gets you so far.  At some point, you have to act.

Taking action doesn’t mean that the action has to be big or even that you have to be particularly sure about it. In fact, sometimes the best actions are small experimental ones. This small experiment approach is what I’ve been using to try and get unstuck.

I’ve tried three small experiments so far, and here are the results:

Gather inspiration. Gathering inspiration – or as artists like to say, “filling the well” – is an important part of the creative process. In the long term, gathering inspiration fosters creativity by feeding our brains ideas and imagery that fuel creative exploration. In the short term, it can give you something to react to which may end up sparking an idea.

What did I do? I spent two weeks going down the Pinterest rabbit hole, leafing through my art books, and going to a few art exhibitions. I also spent some time thinking about how to convert my research into inspiration for my work.

How did it go? It was certainly less frustrating exploring other work than being blocked on my own work. Unfortunately, the ease of consuming potential inspiration did not translate to ease of creating. My block did not budge. It was time for another experiment.

Take a class. My next idea was to take an online workshop. I reasoned that this would get me out of information gathering mode – which was not working – and put me in creating mode. Once I was in the rhythm of creating, I hoped this would carry over to my own work.

What did I do? I signed up for a three-day online color exploration workshop. As a bonus, I did it with an art friend. The additional structure of having scheduled check-ins was an extra motivator.

How did it go? The workshop was successful in getting me into the studio and out of my “paint scarcity” mindset. It also gave me some different ways to think about working with color, which will undoubtedly be useful in the long run. In the short-term, however, I didn’t feel creatively energized at the end of the workshop but rather a bit let down – the way it sometimes feels to get home after a great vacation. On to the next experiment.

Explore within structure. When all else fails, go back to first principles. For me, I know that I work best when I give myself freedom to explore within some sort of structure. So, for my latest small experiment, which is still in progress, I have devised a series of semi-structured studio assignments.

What am I doing?  I am going to the studio at least twice a week and doing exercises that use limited materials and techniques. The idea is to get myself working without overthinking. Yesterday, for example, I spent a day painting abstracts in layers with translucent paint. I spent an earlier studio session playing with patterned fabric and paint. This week, I’m planning to do some loosening up exercises with charcoal. At the end of each studio session, I spend some time reflecting on whether I learned anything from my experimentation that I could bring into my work.

How is it going? I am two weeks into this small experiment and although the jury is still out, I might be slowly getting somewhere. I will re-up for another two weeks and remind myself to check in and evaluate how it’s going.

Small experiments – beyond the studio

Small experiments are not just a good way to get around creative blocks. They are also a useful approach for discovering solutions to all kinds of problems and pain points both in one’s personal and professional life.

In a way, small experiments are nothing new – we are doing them all the time. The human brain is wired for experimentation – it is continuously trying out things, making predictions, and soaking in feedback from the environment to determine how things went. This often happens so quickly that we’re not even aware of it.

What makes a small experiment different from the way the brain habitually works is intentionality. A small experiment doesn’t have to be run like a rigid scientific experiment for a set period of time, but it should be intentional and thoughtful. There should be some clarity on what the problem is, brainstorming on ways to solve it, and an assessment to understand whether a potential solution is working. It is also important to make a note of what works. It is surprisingly easy to forget you even had a problem once it is solved , putting you back to the beginning when something similar comes up.

What I like about a small experiment mindset is that it has an inherent bias towards learning through action. Small experiments are a way forward when you can’t think yourself out of a problem. They focus on learning and adapting rather than failure and success. And they are the perfect response to complex problems with many moving parts – whether that’s how to design urban spaces that meet people’s needs or how to overcome a creative block.

What small experiments could you try?

Anne Kearney is the 2025 reDirect Artist in Residence. You can read more about her here.

The Big Idea of Small Experiments

Small experiments – whether in the design of spaces, programs, or just our own lives – can have big impacts. They can also keep us from making big mistakes. Although the quick, flexible, and impermanent nature of small experiments can make them feel haphazard, they are anything but.

Photo by Anne Kearney

Over the past few years that I’ve been living in Barcelona, I’ve noticed many pockets of urban design that have a very slapdash feel to them – restaurant patios carved out of the street with concrete barriers, pedestrian zones created from traffic lanes using nothing more than paint and a few posts, and small green spaces tentatively claimed by potted plants in areas where parked cars and motorcycles used to sit.

Even the much talked-about Superillas (Superblocks) that were being created in my old neighborhood of Poblenou had a temporary feel. The idea behind the Superblocks is to join nine regular city blocks together into one zone with limited car access in its interior, thus freeing up space for pedestrians, playgrounds, plazas, and plants.

Superblocks sounded like a great design idea to me, but when I went to actually see some, I felt let-down. The playground areas were just painted patterns on newly blocked-off streets. Pedestrian areas were similarly marked with paint and a few round concrete barricades. And the promised greenery consisted of a few forlorn skinny trees in industrial planters. It was an improvement on streets choked with the usual car traffic, but the slapped-together look was far from the ideal I had envisioned.

Now, however, I’m looking at these urban designs with a fresh perspective and I love what I see! I’ve recently learned that many of Barcelona’s new urban spaces, including the Superblocks, feel temporary deliberately. Their skeletal quality isn’t intended as a finished design but as the framework for something more permanent to come.

This approach is part of a broader international movement called Tactical Urbanism. The idea is to mock-up a design quickly and inexpensively so that the city and community can see how it works before committing resources to permanent construction.

Tactical Urbanism in practice. Photos courtesy of Ajuntament de Barcelona BY/ND/NC (v.4) Creative Commons license.

The Tactics Behind Tactical Urbanism

Tactical Urbanism is all about small experiments. Instead of plunging headlong into a big construction project that looks great on paper or in a city employee’s head, Tactical Urbanism calls for a quick, real-world, and inexpensive design test first. Does the new space meet people’s needs? Is it being used in the way it was intended? Are there unintended consequences of the new design, like poor traffic flow, problems for people with limited mobility, or noise? Is there something missing?

By using paint, concrete blocks, basic urban furniture, minimal yet sturdy planters, and temporary road signs and signals, a wide range of spaces can be carved out of existing roads – bike lanes, wider pedestrian lanes, small public squares, protected areas around urban schools, and outdoor eating spaces. Then, if these spaces are shown to work well, or are tweaked until they do, the design can be made more permanent.

Thinking Small

Small experiments are not only useful in urban design. Many of us, in fact, regularly perform small experiments, although we may not call them that. A couple months ago, in a whirlwind of kitchen organization, I decided we needed a tall narrow shelving unit on which we could offload some clutter. My husband, though, was concerned it would be in the way. Instead of taking a chance on buying something that would be hard to return, we mocked-up the basic shape with an assortment of cardboard boxes and then lived with it for a week. After determining that we weren’t going to bruise our hips when rounding the corner, we went ahead and bought the shelving unit – and it’s been perfect.

This idea of small experiments – of taking a flexible incremental approach towards solving a problem – is a central concept in the SEE Framework. In a world where “go big or go home” is often lauded as the brave and bold approach, we may think that small is somehow less. But in many ways, small experiments are more – more economical, more flexible, and more responsive to feedback.

Small experiments are also often more compatible with human nature than large-scale approaches. People function best when they have a clear understanding – a good mental model – for how things work. But sometimes we don’t know enough about a problem to be confident in a proposed solution. We can’t see clearly enough to predict unintended consequences. We are unsure if what worked for another group or in another place will work in our particular situation. Instead of taking a potentially disastrous leap of faith, small experiments allow us to start from our existing mental models and incrementally grow them as we learn more. By implementing and testing problem solutions, we learn what works and what doesn’t and are able to hone in on appropriate strategies and designs.

In groups, we work best together when our mental models are shared – when we have common ground for thinking about how to approach problems. But although we might assume that everyone sees things the way we do, that is often not the case. People may disagree on the nature of the problem itself let alone the best solution. In these situations, a series of small experiments can offer a way forward. By trying things out and sharing the results along the way, we can develop a deeper and shared understanding of the problem and its possible solutions. We may still disagree about what is best, but at least we will be speaking the same language.

Public participation in urban design. Photo courtesy of Ajuntament de Barcelona BY/ND/NC (v.4) Creative Commons license.

Small Experiments Want Big Involvement

I would have assumed that my lack of awareness of Barcelona’s Urbanismo Táctico approach was my own fault – a problem of not consuming enough local news. But the fact that my well-informed Spanish teacher was also in the dark until recently makes me think there may be a bigger problem of insufficient communication.

Whether it’s a pilot program, a trial run, or even a less formal cardboard-inspired “try it and see how it works” approach, small experiments are most effective when people understand what’s going on. I’m looking at Barcelona’s urban tweaks in a much more positive light now that I know they are actually small experiments in progress. And I’m more patient with the disruptive construction on Leitana – a major street that I must often cross – because I know that the new design was tested and refined before work went ahead. But how many people are badmouthing the designs simply because they don’t know enough about them?

Even better than just being informed is being part of the informing. With any experiment, there are many things that are useful to track – impacts, cost, unintended consequences. With experiments that involve people, it can be particularly important to track experiences and opinions. How can you truly know what’s working if you don’t ask?

Feedback can alert you to problems that you otherwise wouldn’t see. It is also a way to involve people in the process. Providing feedback – in a way that goes deeper than the ubiquitous generic surveys or star ratings – creates an opportunity for meaningful action, for being heard, and for having an impact. Not only will you get useful information, but people are more likely to feel invested in the project and its outcome.

Go Small or Go Home

Our current culture’s call to “think big” and “take chances” is hard to resist. We want to just get on with it, make a decision already, cut to the chase, avoid time-consuming back and forth.

Big actions can feel bold and brave. They can feel like leadership.

But the power of small experiments shows us that sometimes – perhaps especially when pressured to make a big impact quickly – the bravest step is a small one.

Anne Kearney is an artist and writer living in Barcelona, Spain. Her work is inspired by her decades of experience as an environmental psychologist working for universities, non-profits and NASA. She has a B.A. in Cognitive Science from Stanford University and a Ph.D. in Environmental Psychology from the University of Michigan.