Play Is a Design Choice, Not a Nice-to-Have

By Ray with my favorite human, Benjamin Scott. News Brief,

TL;DRDesigning products that empower users to create their own experiences can enhance engagement and satisfaction, suggesting a shift from scripted experiences to providing adaptable tools and familiar patterns.

A wave of new physical design work has one thing in common. It stops treating people as an audience and starts treating them as builders. Playgrounds made from scaffolding. Bridges you lean on to draw. Crochet made by a hundred hands. It sounds far from your product roadmap, but the lesson lands close to home. Let me catch you up on what these designers figured out, and what it means for the way your team plans engagement.

Give people raw materials, not a finished experience

The strongest work here hands over real stuff and steps back. At the National Building Museum, Snarkitecture built an Adventure Yard where kids grab wood, piping, and metal to build their own thing. Co-founder Alex Mustonen calls it "an invitation for people of all ages to rediscover the joy, creativity, and wonder of open-ended play". The design does not perform for you. It gives you tools and gets out of the way.

James Murphy's Casul chair pushes the same idea into a single object. Two moves turn a plywood seat into a castle a kid can reimagine as a unicorn cafe or a besieged fort. He built it so kids can use it "completely unsupervised". The design sets the frame. The user fills it in.

For your team, this is a real fork. You can script an experience end to end, or you can ship a smaller, sharper set of tools and let users make it theirs. The second path feels riskier in a review. It usually earns more use.

Familiar parts lower the wall

None of this works if people feel intimidated. So these designers reach for stuff everyone already knows. In Osaka, team raw row built a public space from benches, standing counters, bulletin boards, planters, traffic mirrors, and scaffolding pipes. Ordinary street parts, rearranged. The point was to keep "a visual continuity with the surrounding city" so people wandered in instead of hanging back.

Snarkitecture leaned the same way, using plywood, steel, and cork, materials pulled straight from construction sites. The familiar made a touch strange invites you to touch it.

The read for your product: novelty is not the thing that gets people to engage. Recognition is. Build the new feature out of patterns your users already trust, and the leap to trying it gets much shorter.

Build the making into the thing itself

Choi+Shine's crochet installations go a step past letting people use the work. People help build it. Before a giant lace canopy goes up, the studio runs workshops with local volunteers who stitch the panels by hand. For their Hangzhou piece, Distance, patterns were "shared, tested, and adjusted across skill levels," so the making itself became part of the culture around the work.

The finished piece is still engineered and precise. But it carries hours of shared labor on its surface. People show up already invested because they had a hand in it.

Moradavaga worked the same seam in Vienna, building movable furniture with speaking and listening tubes that push strangers into direct exchange. The object does not just sit there. It sets up an interaction and hands the rest to the people using it.

Constraints can be the feature, not the compromise

The cleverest moves start from a hard limit. XBTW Office had a plain bridge and turned four inclined planes into public furniture for leaning, drawing, and observing. Same structure, a new reason to linger. RUA Studio took London's New Routemaster buses, which get phased out by 2030, and turned them into mobile playgrounds. Jury chair Deborah Saunt praised how the design creates lasting impact "not despite, but because of" its temporary, traveling nature.

A temporary state, a leftover asset, an awkward space. Each team treated the constraint as the starting point and found delight inside it. That reframe is worth stealing for your next scoping fight.

The deep cut

Engagement here was never assumed. It was designed, tested, and fixed. Snarkitecture play-tested materials with kids of all ages. Murphy roped in his tutors' children and added chalkboard paint only after a girl wanted to draw on the clean plywood. He calls kids "a really good user group because they will tell you exactly what they think." None of these teams guessed at delight and shipped it. They built a rough version, watched real people use it, and let the users add the features.

So before your next launch, ask whether you have actually watched someone use the thing, or whether you are assuming they will love it. The chalkboard-paint moment only exists because someone was in the room watching. Yours is probably waiting in a usability session you have not scheduled yet.

Three questions for your team

  1. On our next feature, are we scripting the whole experience, or shipping tools and letting users build their own use? Which one are we actually staffed for?
  2. What familiar pattern can we build this on so people recognize it fast, instead of betting on novelty to pull them in?
  3. Where is our chalkboard-paint moment hiding, the thing we would only find by watching a real user, and have we booked the session to find it?