One would be hard pressed to find a company these days that isn’t talking about becoming more innovative. The term is so widely used, and so broadly defined, that it’s on the verge of losing any meaningful impact. I just had the opportunity to see Guy Kawasaki speak on the “Art of Innovation,” which was something he originally posted on his blog titled how to change the world back in 2006. I don’t disagree that there is an “art” to innovation, and his speech was quite good and inspiring, but—like any art form—the way in which innovation is interpreted, embraced, and implemented in organizations is subject to a liberal amount of “creative license.” It can be like, “Yes, innovation – let’s do that!” without a full commitment to its wide scale implications.
Being truly committed to innovation changes the way you approach your work each day, forces new mindsets, and requires that one be open to new ways of working and acting differently. It demands accepting that great success also goes hand in hand with great risks and great failures. And understanding that once you ARE innovative you have to start right over again – because as soon as you are, you aren’t.

Recently, Ximedica adopted the tagline "Living Innovation" (now also the title of this blog). At first, I thought "what does that mean?" I had no idea until recently.

We were having our annual offsite meeting and I was asked to give a brief presentation to my co-workers on how my work fits in with the total Ximedica device development process. With less than 24 hrs to prepare, I came up with an analogy:

The mechanical engineers build the bones, joints, movements, the structure.
The designers wrap the skin and flesh around the structure.
The electrical engineers provide nerves, senses, stimulation, energy.
The software engineers enable the object to think and react.

Together, we bring LIFE to a NEWLY created object that will positively impact our lives.

That's what 'Living Innovation' means to me.

Carl B Dumas
Senior Software Engineer
'Toujours Prêt'

My latest "aha moment" related to product development came during a recent training class on Customer Requirements. The familiar model for medical device development dictates that we start with customer (user) requirements, translate them into design inputs, design the product, develop design outputs, and then build the device. In the end, we try to get them all to line up so that we can perform verification and validation per FDA requirements. Often, there is some other requirement that isn't really a customer requirement—be it an internal business requirement or desired product feature—that we must try to fit it into this model. In my experience, it often feels awkward labeling these requirements that don't necessarily come from the customer, but still must be included in the device design. My "aha" came when the instructor put a name to these nebulous requirements: "design constraints." Of course they are! I knew what design constraints were, but had never used that terminology in conjunction with the FDA model. For example, a surgical instrument may require a size restriction to fit in the instrument case. This size restriction is not necessarily a user need, but really a design constraint that will limit the final design of the instrument to that size or smaller. Or perhaps the device maker wants to use a particular technology for product. Alternative technologies may solve the problem; however the solution is limited to the technology of choice—i.e. it is simply a design constraint. 

I recently had the opportunity to deliver a presentation at the Industrial Design Society of America's International Conference in Miami, along with my colleague Aidan Petrie. In our preparation for this presentation, I was reminded again about the differences in individual communication styles, and the importance of considering those other than one's own. As an engineer, my "default" is to create presentations by taking a basic outline and converting it to bullet points on a series of slides. This method, familiar to everyone, probably describes 90% of all the presentations I have both created and seen throughout my career. Suddenly, along with Aidan I was to present to a big roomful of design professionals about designing in the medical field. To help prepare the presentation, we enlisted two of Ximedica’s human factors design professionals. Much to my horror, the first draft didn't include a single bullet point. We went back and forth and eventually reached a compromise—text and strong visuals, but no bullets. In the end, it was the most beautiful, visually appealing presentation that I have been involved with. I still don't understand completely, but I realized again the importance of considering a range of communication styles and how much there is to learn from people with different backgrounds.

Amidst the health care reform media frenzy, I am surprised by how little press is devoted to comparative effectiveness (CE) research. CE is, quite simply, the comparison of different management options for a given medical condition, such as surgery and drug therapy for the same condition. More than $1 billion of stimulus funding was recently allocated to CE, which is sure to usher a sea-change in the way that physicians on the front lines practice medicine as well as the way that medical devices and other health care products are developed.