Hey, so…wondering this but not quite sure about it: suppose deterrence and peace were less about a treaty and more about a kind of prototyping practice?

What does it look like when you walk into your corner store? What does the air taste like when you step outside?

I find myself sensing the usual nouns and structures when I hear talk of peace in the midst of conflict. Is it policy? Is peace law? Is it about governance or policy? Is it protest slogans? NGOs? Whistles? Restrictions of movement?

I get that these things matter. They provide the legible frameworks that can hold people accountable, and they can be critical for shaping incentives.

But they also feel like they live in a different register than the day-to-day work of keeping life livable in the midst of conflict.

Which is to say this: I’m not convinced these frameworks are sufficient.

Peace seems to live lower to the ground, not in these structuring documents or laws or policy.

What I mean is this: what is peace when you see it in the everyday? What does it feel like? What does it look like? What does it sound like? What does it smell like? What does it taste like?

What’s breakfast like in times of peace versus times of conflict? What does a commute look like? What does a family dinner feel like? What is the trip to school like? What does a walk in the park feel like? What does a trip to the grocery store look like? What does a visit to the doctor feel like?

So I’ve been wandering about with a question that feels both hopeful and potentially risky and spoken from an armchair in a relatively deconflicted corner of the world:

What might conflict reduction look like if we practiced it through speculative design but not as escape, but as a way to make the “everyday” visible, discussable, shareable?

Can Design Fiction help us represent and possibly broker peace by building vivid imaginaries of the relatable, grounded, tangible everyday mundane? I don’t know for sure at all — but I am more than eager to wander into a more habitable, more conflict-free world to consider how Design Fiction might contribute.

So I say all that to say this:

This is the spirit of Design Fiction for Peace, an international initiative with Design Factory Manchester (led by Philip Ely, Dr Ganna Borzenkova, and Ilpo Koskinen) and Nastasia Fomina at Aalto University.

I’ll be giving an opening keynote, and following the project’s trajectory in an advisory and mentorship capacity—less as someone with answers, more as someone committed to asking better questions alongside others.

One concrete strand: Grounded Design Fiction, a hands-on course opening at Aalto University by Andrea Botero Cabrera—starting from real conflict contexts, material traces, and the ethics of representation.

Selected works will be exhibited at the Design Fiction for Peace Exhibition during PDC Milan, 16–19 June 2026.

I’m curious: where do you feel imagination is essential in peace work—and where does it risk becoming too tidy, too distant, too innocent?

(If you’re working in policy, existential risk, diplomacy, peacebuilding, design, or futures and want to connect around this, get in touch.)