We often think of strategy as something cold, analytical, spreadsheet-driven. But more and more, I’m convinced that strategy is fundamentally a form of fiction—a way of telling a story about the future, then organizing people and resources to make that story real.

It’s not just about goals or roadmaps or five-year plans. It’s about imagination.

Strategy asks: What kind of world are we trying to bring into being? And perhaps more importantly: How do we evoke a sense of that place such that we can obtain alignment from our stakeholders, our community, our audience? How do we tell a rich, evocative story that our people can feel into a possible near future?

Strategy isn’t a plan. It’s a provocation. A story about a future you’re willing to bet on. It’s not prediction. It’s preparation. Slide decks don’t move people. Artifacts do. Prototypes do. Narratives that you can see, touch, and test do.

When I try to make sense of an idea I have, one that is liminal and something I felt more than I could articulate, I make a prototype, a piece of software that feels plausible, that functions, yet is mostly here to give some structure to an thought, a feeling, an instinct.

I make a prototype to help me think, to help me see into an idea, to help me make sense.

TL;DR:

Less yammering. More hammering.

If there’s one thing getting in the way of Imagining better futures, it’s not capitalism or collapse — it’s us. The self-proclaimed futurists. The critics of self-proclaimed futurists. The endless theorizing, posturing, and purity tests.

Let’s collaborate more. Make more. Imagine harder.

The hustle may stink, but most of us are in this because we sense something worth doing — something that might help. If it gets even one person to see “the future” differently and helps pay rent? That’s a win.

Thanks to @Silvio Lorusso for sparking this.

The OMATA One is an exemplar of a hybrid mode of futuring — one that moves quickly from speculation to making to commercial product. It started with a simple idea: to create a cycling computer that was easy to use, accurate, and beautiful. I wanted to feel what it was like to create a product that effervesced the analog-mechanical feel of what it is to ride a bicycle, but did not require a smartphone, nor was over-indexed on the visual semantics of the already overclocked digital world.

We use diegetic prototypes as a kind of production design from the future. These are like objects that have fallen into our laps that implications of possibility — whether from the future, some adjacent now, or some other timeline. They could even be thought of as things that are contemporary, but from a different perspective, culture, or context. They are not predictions, but rather invitations to think about the future in a different way.

Yesterday was the first session of General Seminar Season 06, Episode 05. Good fun. Great group. We made some artifacts from an agentic future, and I put some up in the Dispatches from the Near Future section of the site, including this one, Faraday's Cage: A Bar and Grill and Dré's Agentic & Digital Twin Decommissioning Service Kiosk

Imagining into the future through generative artifacts and design fiction is a way to explore the implications of agentic AI and digital twins in our lives. The value of doing this kind of work is to venture into these new and unfamiliar territories with a sense of both playfulness and practicality. The actions and activities can lead to new insights, prototypes, concept development, and even new business models.

This post showcases some of the artifacts created during General Seminar, including "Faraday's Cage: A Bar and Grill" and "Dré's Agentic & Digital Twin Decommissioning Service Kiosk."

We are in the midst of a longevity revolution. This isn’t just about longer lifespans; it’s about living those years more fully. The number of people over 80 globally is projected to triple between 2020 and 2050. As this population expands, so does the diversity of their preferences, interests, passions, and ambitions. They are not a monolithic group defined solely by age, but a vibrant tapestry of individuals.

A workshop at SF Design Week 2025 in collaboration with my good friends at AGE OF_.

The artist who plays with the future, for whom the future is a medium and material, and casts a dark pall over what could be, is playing into the hands of the very forces that are at work to make the world a less habitable place. It is antagonistic. It is like taking the bait of the bully who is trying to pick a fight because they only know how to fight.

The trouble with staying with the trouble when the future is in trouble is that those responsible or who can possibly take responsibility for imagining a more habitable future are doing less of it or, even worse, are imagining a future that is antagonistic to the very forces that are at work to make the world a less habitable place. It is like taking the bait of the bully who is trying to pick a fight because they only know how to fight.

Stop using ChatGPT. I made a better tool for writers. It's speculative, and futuristic — but it's here now and it works!

It’s called Vibewriter.

It's like trading fours with your muse to get your writers brain 🧠 in flow.

It’s a functional software prototype that anticipates new modes of interaction, interface, and engagement with AI. It’s not just about asking questions and getting answers. It’s about creating a communal and collaborative interaction and engagement that is more like call and response, or a dance with your collaborative writing partner — which just happens to be AI 🤖.

​Futurespaces and Near Future Laboratory bring you SideShow on June 12th, 2025 at 6:00 PM at the Proper Hotel in Santa Monica, CA.

​One night. A room full of artists, designers, filmmakers, and creative people sharing the work they’re making outside the brief. Sound experiments. Illegible interfaces. Broken narratives. Tools bent into new shapes. Ideas with no client, no deadline, no plan—just the need to try something no one asked for. A rare glimpse into experimental ventures headed straight into unknown territory.

​Sideshow is a space for work that’s personal, unruly, and unfinished—kept alive in spite of economic pressure and the pull of everything more urgent. It’s a chance to share what’s taking shape, spark something new, and help each other keep going. Not by scaling up. Just by showing up. To keep alive the side that keeps us going.

First things first: this is a ‘less yammering, more hammering’ post where I emphasize the value of speculative prototyping to augment the thinking. You know..theory + practice. I say that because it contains a study in using AI in a creative writing context. I do this because, well — I can't help wonder about the possibilities of what could be and I'm convinced that the best way to explore the possibilities is to prototype and experiment with the tools at hand. And that also may mean doing some tool making, too. That is part of the prototyping. You build new tools to understand the newness of the what-could-be. Or, you know — what could become. Now, I deliver this caveat to you because some people are going to read this and think that I am advocating for AI to write stories. I am not. I am not saying that AI should write...