When things go wrong—when they go terribly wrong—planning becomes more than a technical exercise. It becomes a test of imagination, coordination, and human understanding. In these moments, people across government agencies, nonprofits, corporations, and field teams are expected to perform in sync, even if they’ve never worked together before.

That’s the paradox of crisis management: we’re asked to solve deeply human problems with systems that often weren’t built for collaboration or empathy.

But what if there were a framework—a shared language—that allowed different actors to work together more effectively? That’s the promise of design thinking. And as Rick Fernandez explains in his wide-ranging conversation on the Crisis Lab Podcast, it’s a tool that can reshape how we prepare, plan, and rebuild in the face of complex, high-stakes events.

Why We Need to Rethink the Way We Plan

Fernandez’s background speaks volumes. From the U.S. Department of Justice to NYC Emergency Management, and from IBM to humanitarian missions in South Sudan, his work has placed him at the intersection of partnerships, preparedness, and real-world problem solving.

Through it all, a pattern emerged.

Across all these domains—emergency response, international development, humanitarian aid—organizations build plans. But those plans often reflect systems rather than people. They are shaped by institutional logic, not lived experience. And while they may be technically sound, they can falter in the field if they lack community input or fail to adapt to new variables.

That’s where design thinking comes in.

Design Thinking as a Planning Overlay, Not a Replacement

Fernandez makes one thing clear: design thinking doesn’t replace formal planning processes. Whether it’s the military’s deliberate planning cycle, FEMA’s planning P, or humanitarian cluster coordination, each system has its own rigor—and for good reason.

Design thinking is different. It’s what Fernandez calls a “secondary planning language”—a way to connect across domains without abandoning core structures. It helps planners from different backgrounds talk to each other, co-create, and identify shared priorities.

The process, at its core, follows five steps:

1. Empathize – Understand who is affected and how they experience the issue.

2. Define – Clearly articulate the problem, grounded in that lived experience.

3. Ideate – Generate a wide range of potential solutions.

4. Prototype – Develop quick, low-cost versions of the most promising ideas.

5. Test – Gather feedback from real-world use and refine as needed.

In highly technical fields, this process may feel informal. But its power lies in its ability to center the end user—not as an afterthought, but as the starting point.

Human-Centered Design and the Planning Disciplines

Fernandez draws parallels across planning domains. Whether you're a development planner, an emergency manager, or involved in international coordination, you're asking the same questions:

• Who is affected?

• What’s the problem?

• What actions can we take to solve it?

• How do we know if our solution works?

These are the same questions design thinking asks. And because of that, Fernandez argues, anyone involved in planning already has the instincts for it—they just need to overlay the methodology.

But there’s a distinction worth noting: design thinking considers the user, while human-centered design actively includes them in the process. The difference is subtle but important. In human-centered design, affected communities don’t just receive a plan—they help build it.

Response vs. Deliberate Planning: The Right Timing for Design Thinking

There’s a fair concern that design thinking may be too slow or cumbersome for rapid response. Fernandez acknowledges this but offers critical nuance.

The crisis lifecycle has phases:

1. Pre-crisis (planning and preparation)

2. Crisis onset (life-saving and life-sustaining actions)

3. Stabilized response

4. Recovery

Design thinking is most effective during phases one, three, and four—where there’s room for consultation, iteration, and inclusive problem-solving. During the acute response phase—when minutes count—traditional, hierarchical decision-making is necessary.

But that acute phase is smaller than most professionals realize. As Fernandez puts it: “We give a little too much mental headspace to that sliver of time.” The majority of time in crisis work is spent before and after the chaos.

In stabilized response and recovery, design thinking provides a clear advantage. It helps answer questions like: What does “fixed” look like? How do we define success after the crisis? These are deeply political, community-driven decisions—and ignoring them leads to misaligned recovery efforts and public backlash.

Collaboration Requires Trust—and Design Thinking Builds It

In emergencies, trust can be the difference between success and gridlock. And trust, Fernandez says, is built long before the crisis hits.

He recalls a phrase from his early days in emergency management: “You don’t want to be exchanging business cards for the first time during a response.” Relationships, protocols, and understanding need to be in place beforehand.

Design thinking helps facilitate those relationships. It gives people a shared process. It asks them to listen to each other, define problems together, and build solutions that work across boundaries.

That’s especially important in contexts with multiple actors: local government, NGOs, federal agencies, private firms. Everyone has different constraints and goals. Design thinking doesn’t erase those—it helps navigate them through mutual understanding and creative problem-solving.

Organizational Culture and Structural Resistance

Two barriers often stand in the way of collaborative planning: organizational culture and institutional structure.

Culture says, We don’t have time to interview communities.
Structure says, This is how we’ve always done it.

These are valid concerns. Emergency management tends to reward speed and precision. Military command structures emphasize discipline and hierarchy. But as Fernandez points out, those same institutions also have built-in planning processes that rely on collaboration—between branches, agencies, and sectors.

The challenge is recognizing that design thinking doesn’t ask you to abandon structure. It offers a space within the structure for collaboration, iteration, and adaptation.

And as crises grow more complex, the need for cross-sector planning grows with them. Knowing how to coordinate with unfamiliar partners becomes not just helpful—but essential.

Technology and the Next Generation of Planners

Fernandez makes a sharp observation about generational shifts. Younger professionals are already digital natives. They use collaborative tools, work in agile environments, and iterate in real time. For them, integrating design thinking with digital planning tools isn’t revolutionary—it’s natural.

The opportunity now is to leverage that mindset, especially as organizations invest in AI, predictive analytics, and digital coordination platforms. These tools are only as effective as the design behind them—and the people designing them must be thinking beyond technical specs. They must ask: Will this work in the field? Will it serve the people it’s meant to help?

Design thinking ensures that technology development stays grounded in reality.

From “Serving” to “Being of Service”

Toward the end of the conversation, Fernandez raises a critical ethical point: Are we in love with responding to emergencies—or with preventing them?

Too often, systems are built around the act of service—showing up, delivering aid, solving problems. But real resilience means designing systems that reduce the need for response in the first place. It means recognizing that sometimes, the best response is the one we never have to launch.

Design thinking encourages that shift. It reframes the question from “How do we fix this?” to “How do we make sure it doesn’t break again?”

Where to Begin with Design Thinking

For professionals across emergency management, development, nonprofit, and public policy fields, applying design thinking starts with small but intentional steps:

1. Identify diverse stakeholders early – Invite new voices to the table. Don’t wait for a crisis to start building relationships.

2. Map the user journey – Understand what a crisis looks like from the community’s perspective, not just the planner’s.

3. Prototype with constraints – Use tabletop exercises or pilot programs to test ideas in realistic conditions.

4. Practice inclusive decision-making – Make space for community members, not just technical experts, in planning sessions.

5. Document and revisit – Plans should be living documents. Collect feedback, review regularly, and refine as needed.

Planning That Holds Up When It Counts

The future of crisis planning won’t be defined by who can act the fastest—it will be defined by who plans the smartest. That means moving beyond siloed systems. It means designing together, not in isolation. And it means listening, deeply and often, to those who live with the consequences of every decision.

Design thinking offers not just a methodology, but a mindset. One that values empathy, flexibility, and trust as much as logistics, checklists, and protocols.

If your organization is serious about resilience—if you want your plans to hold up under pressure—start now. Start listening. Start co-creating. Start designing with the people who matter most.

Because when the next crisis hits, the real question won’t be whether you had a plan.

It’ll be whether that plan was built to work for the people who needed it.

Take the Next Step

Explore how design thinking can fit into your work by checking out the newly launched Planning for Impact: Design Thinking in Integrated Crisis Management course by Rick Fernandez on CrisisLab.io. Subscribe to the Crisis Lab Podcast for more real conversations with those shaping the future of integrated crisis planning.

Let’s build systems that don’t just react—but respond with purpose.