Harrison, J., & Whyte, J. (2026). Future-Making in the Front-End of Projects. International Journal of Project Management, 102854. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijproman.2026.102854

Interestingly, Harrison & Whyte’s (2026) conclusions inspired me to conceptualize and set up a class of blogposts which I am calling ‘Reflexive Reviews’ (see categories in the right-hand sidebar). What naturally caught my eye was their advocacy for “for more inquiry-led planning in projects” (p. 5), given the arguments I make in my article-based doctoral thesis and my 20 years of front-end inquiry for informing client projects as well as my own research studies. A reflexive review, thus, becomes a way for me to intersperse my observations from field studies and from client project management experiences with the contents of their essay. Whether the reflexivity of my dialectical engagement with literature on my blog is ‘critical reflexivity’ or not is path dependent on the research selected for such a review. I believe it was Alvesson & Sandberg (2011) who observed that the “critical” in ‘critical reflexivity’ can sometimes overwhelm the “reflexivity” (see pg. 252).

Here, I take the stance of an experienced practitioner in doing more or less that which Harrison & Whyte (2026) advocate for in their discourse of project management. What is interesting is that what I’ve been doing has its roots in the front-end of human-centered design and product development, also called innovation planning or design planning (Owen 1992, 2001; Kumar 2012; Keeley et al. 2013). I will use another quote to help explain where I discern nuanced differences between understandings of inquiry, planning, and the front-end when approached from different disciplines (see Davies, Manning & Söderlund 2018). Emphasis is added to distinguish the two viewpoint they compare.

We suggest that project planning could benefit from complementing early-stage certainty and commitment with more reflexive and inquiry- led practices that allow for iteration, divergence, and adaptation over time. (Harrison & Whyte 2026:5 with emphasis added)

Harrison & Whyte’s (2026) analysis and explanations were so relevant that I wondered for a moment if they were reading Owen too and interpreting his arguments for weaving together their strands of discourse. Instead, what I noticed is that they are almost there, at his arguments for an additional phase of work at the very front-end of an innovation and/or product development project. Here’s their comparative table of analysis (a screencap is all I could muster at this time but it should suffice for discussion) from page 3 of Harrison & Whyte (2026):

What I see here is the ripeness for a sequential multi-paradigm inquiry (Lewis & Grimes 1999) in this front-end of project planning. One which combines the distinguishing features of both approaches being contrasted in the table by Harrison & Whyte (2026). That is, there is room and need for both viewpoints, and, thus, for temporal sequencing. Sharon Poggenpohl describes this better in her second individually written chapter (Poggenpohl & Sato 2003), when discussing the two ‘dominant design paradigms’ as identified by Dorst (1997). Suggesting that rather than consider them as incommensurable, consider them as complementary, Poggenpohl (2003) builds on Dorst’s analysis (1997), both of whom trace these dominant viewpoints in design research to, respectively, Herbert Simon’s seminal work the Sciences of the Artificial for the rational ‘design paradigm’ (I prefer to use viewpoint, distinguishing from inquiry paradigms, Lincoln & Guba 1995, 2005); and, Donald Schon’s work for the reflective ‘design paradigm. These two viewpoints – the rational and the reflective – may also be discerned in the comparative analysis above by Harrison & Whyte (2026). At a more concrete level of abstraction, what they’re doing here is a multi-paradigm research technique called paradigm bracketing (see Lewis & Grimes 1999). Assumptions which underpin each of the two strands of discourse (project front-end and future-making literatures) are embedded in the contrasting distinguishing features as pinpointed and articulated by Harrison & Whyte (2026). There are indeed potential synergies; it is this which made me recollect the work of faculty such as Owen and Poggenpohl at the Institute of Design, Illinois Institute of Technology (ID-IIT) on this front-end structure and planning blended with ethnography, design, and thus, the necessary room for maneuvre embedded in design discourse notions of concept as a working hypothesis (Bhan & Rytilahti 2026).

Reading through Harrison & Whyte (2026) carefully makes me wonder whether the issues raised by the authors are those which result from an underlying meta-assumption (Alvesson & Sandberg 2011, 2013) which permeates all scientific endeavour, regardless of discipline, that of ‘certainty’ as an idealized goal. Thus, even those fields and strands of study which resist and critique such a viewpoint, may not be wholly able to shake off the overall conditioning of scholarship within the academy; far more subtle but well recognized as, among other things, ‘the scientific method’. “Future-making at the front-end” can also be argued, based on one commonly recognized understanding of design, as “the front-end of design/innovation”; after all, you may also recognize the close and intertwined relationship between design itself (particularly as a practice) and the making of a possible future (see Peschl & Fundneider 2016 for an example). After all, the acts and thoughts of design are intentionally purposeful and goal-oriented towards manifesting tangible visions of possibilities of that which does not yet exist. More so when you associate the idea of innovation with design. This perhaps is why Davies et al. (2018) were found in this paper, given their arguments on the asymptotic lines of discourse between innovation studies and project management. I would argue from my own position that since design has begun permeating all other disciplines (Gruendel & Mareis 2026); its time design stepped up to recognize itself and describe alongside its own distinguishing features. Any design/innovation planner who works in the terra incognita before we arrive at a concept (however tentative it may be) to begin giving form to the rest of the project (planning actions, mobilizing resources, project design and development, etc) will recognize this “potential synergy” from the last row of Harrison & Whyte’s (2026) table for the criteria of “Uncertainty” which I reproduce below:

Treat uncertainty as a both a (design) input and a risk to be managed. Leverage creativity while maintaining control (Harrison & Whyte 2026, Table 1, page 3)

Uncertainty is the only certainty, I once said, as the opening lines for a talk on a consumer insights study we’d once undertaken for mobile phone design in frontier markets very long ago. The informal economies of the world, where I chose to practice design ethnography and other mixed methods inquiry for almost 20 years, is not only rife with uncertainty, but it informs business model design, business development strategies, preferred payment plans, and a host of other factors. Uncertainty as the dominant paradigm of the operating environment within which one must plan is the groundbreaking design research I undertook in 2009 as foundation for my professional practice. So I will not open that discussion and explanation here, instead I note that there is scope for some qualitative research papers sitting right here at this confluence of unexpected lines of thought. Instead, what I would like to add to this reflexive review is a diagram made by Charles Owen (2001) to illustrate why the front-end must comprise two steps.

What is interesting and thus excites me is that it is these two comparative strands situated side by side in the table above by Harrison & Whyte (2026) which allow for a clear recognition that Owen (2001, 1992) was asking for the “future-making” column to be added as a step before the “project planning” column at the very front-end of product development. He began asking for this two step approach in the early 1990s and called it structured design planning. It has undergone nomenclature changes but its essential argument is not dissimilar to Harrison & Whyte’s (2026): we need exploration and discovery at the very beginning as inquiry to inform our planning of our project. This argument is in Bhan & Rytilahti (2026) (download PDF) published in The Design Journal. In turn, this requires bespoke inquiry design, as argued for by Bhan & Tedjokusumo (2025) in the International Journal of Design

What is missing from Harrison & Whyte (2026) is the notion of a concept, as commonly understood and used in practice and scholarship of design. The concept, in this research setting (the two strands of discourse compared in the table above), would act as a bridge between the two viewpoints as reflected in their contrasting distinguishing features (Harrison & Whyte 2026). Damien’s squiggle above illustrates the punctuation offered by a concept between the period of uncertainty and the period of clarity. It also makes it obvious that the ‘project planning’ discourse, as described by Harrison & Whyte (2026) begins thinking from the moment of the concept while the ‘future-making’ discourse begins with the non-linear exploration and discovery-driven inquiry (“research”) phase. Uncertainty describes terra incognita, marked by Owen (2001) above in his diagram. Terra incognita is where I operate as an independent design researcher, both for project information development (Sato 2009) and academic scholarship (Sato 2000). I will stop even what I am calling a long read here for now since there is as much to be said about how one negotiates for such ambiguity in large scale and complex problem spaces with the funding client organizations. On the other hand, I must conclude it is exhilarating to find published literatures such as Harrison & Whyte (2026).

I’ll come back to this later, here I want to move on to the second link I reviewed this morning, one on community environmental behaviour observed during a South African research study in a rural community. Empirical data contradicts dominant narratives which assume financial incentives will be required for the poor to involve themselves with sustainability. Interestingly however, what they found was community actions on climate change adaptations were motivated by ‘ubuntu’, the Southern African philosophy predicated on kinship and relationality.

A long-standing idea in environmental research is that people are more likely to care about the environment, and do something to prevent environmental damage, once they earn enough to stop worrying about paying their bills. But what happens in rural communities with high levels of poverty, where money is scarce and environmental changes directly affect people’s livelihoods? We are economists who wanted to find out what explained environmental action best: income levels, or the strength of people’s connections to their fellow community members (Kirsten & Biyase 2026)

A relational viewpoint is revealed by the link between actions taken and the ‘strength of people’s connections” (Kirsten & Biyase 2026). The stronger the relationality, the more likely the community would take actions which would benefit all and future generations. The ‘long-standing idea’ which Kirsten & Biyase (2026) overturn with empirical evidence is an assumption in their line of work which can be problematized, as they have done. It is the result of taking a ‘rational’ viewpoint which rooted in positivism and the scientific method. Recognizing this, too, I now realize, is part of ‘dismantling the monolith’ since relational viewpoints, such as those illuminated by Kirsten & Biyase (2026) are closely identified with indigenous research paradigms, underpinning the relational axiology of indigenous knowledge systems (Chilisa 2019). There is much more to be said here but I will stake a step back instead to consider both the links and my response to them.

I can see clearly a nuanced shift in my interpretation and understanding. It is also clear that it results from the work done over these past 6 or 7 months on constructing a (meta) theoretical and conceptual frame for my doctoral research. Here now, I will pause reflexive analysis and pick it up again once I have materials to share in public. Suffice to say, I did not expect this. And must ponder its implications.

Photo taken by Niti Bhan, Eastern Cape, South Africa, January 2008

So I did.

As I sit here now, less than a week after sending it in again for re-examination, I can only think that this decision was the best thing that ever happened to me in my doctoral journey. A major revision comes with ample time to think, to review, to revise, and to rewrite. The committee offers you 12 months for delivery. I aimed for 3, then aspired to finish in 6 but by the time the myriad little details were all worked out and last minute corrections shoved in, it was almost 7 months before it was ready to go public. I hope my examiners haven’t forgotten me, I’ve been in my cave for so long.

This time I wrote something that wanted to be read. Its a nuanced difference, but I think an important one for me.

I now approached it as the public dissemination of academic scholarship as a doctoral candidate of a university whose birth I remember. Whose reveal party I attended in September 2007; whose prototype I toured in September 2008; and whose research community I joined in September 2019. Yet, interestingly, no matter how often I look back over almost 20 years of involvement, I cannot find any evidence that I could have ever produced anything of this quality and positionality had I begun writing my doctoral thesis any earlier than this time of life.

That is, this is not the dissertation of what is commonly known as “an early career researcher” although technically, according to the formal academic definition, that is exactly what I am at this grand old age of 60. I remember telling someone I’m not “early career” anything at this point. On one hand, as my publications show, I have only a handful of peer reviewed scientific research articles; a popular way to assess the relative “earliness” of a researcher’s career. On the other hand, I have more than 10 commissioned research reports and a track record of funded research projects going back the same 20 years. Its complicated, she said.

For now I will use the status of ‘Independent Researcher’. Its a good enough at this moment in time. I have built reputations, brands, and careers over the past 36 years. Now, I will undergo my own major revision; in no small thanks to the fatal crash of this website.

It opens a new question: What do I want to build next?

This is an absolutely wonderful question. It motivates. It does not inspire. But, what it does is, leave open many possibilities and many searchways for inspiration. In the meantime, I have my blog up and running. And, that, perhaps, is the most important thing of all at transitional times like this.

Here be ‘playgrounds of the mind‘ (with apologies to Larry Niven)…

This is a short note on the tagline in the header of this website. It was written in response to the preponderance of technologies used to generate and disseminate “content” once I realized that not only was I building this site by hand, as much as possible using the barest minimum of tools available for the back-end but that I would write each and every word by hand and mind.

Out there on the internet, blog and bulletin board conversations ponder the question whether its still worth keeping a blog in the age of gen AI. Interestingly, one of the most popular answers is that a blog offers a track record of thinking and writing. Only when I saw ‘How To’ guides on writing without the help of technology did I realize the trend now to recapture the early spirit of blogging from 25 years ago. And to re-establish the human voice and p2p communication.

I would rather put errors and typos out there than run my thoughts through a machine for perfecting. It is the same rule I followed for my entire doctoral thesis. And, it is the way I learnt to write more than 50 years ago. I don’t see why I need to give that up now.

So, this is a crude handmade object. Let’s see how it fares in today’s ‘online’ and then perhaps look back and compare with how things were 20+ years ago when this domain was established and the first blogpost launched.

Instead of being devastated at the thought of rebuilding my domain brick by brick or trying (unsuccessfully) to import the blogposts from the sidelined instance at the back end, I am curiously feeling unfettered and relieved.

I now have a wholly blank slate for the decision to be made. A decisive stage-gate moment which the crash makes easy to contemplate in a manner that would not have been possible if the lingering legacies of my years of writing were still flapping around in the wind like loose threads.

Let us assume for now that I am undergoing the process of decision-making. Blogposts may emerge from this process. I have no answers with which to close this post.

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!

I’ve spent the day building a blogger’s home website from scratch. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve done this since my first foray into the “blogosphere” as we used to call it back in 2005. The old site crashed about a month ago but I was busy completing the major revision of my doctoral thesis which I just sent in for review by my external examiners.

It looks like the technicalities of why the site crashed are beyond repair.

So here I am, starting over on a blank page (as we used to say back when fountain pens had feathers) at the grand old age of 60. I point out that because I remember celebrating my 40th on this blog, a year after I first began Perspective, the blog. Will I name this blog Perspective once again?

This time I truly don’t know. Let’s see where it goes. At least for now, I will use my full name under which I’ve been publishing in peer reviewed scientific journals. But that’s a story for another day.