Connect with Fast Company

Enlarge

Enlarge

The first kiosk looked like a grade-school project or a prank. It didn't have a screen. Didn't even plug in. Patients stared at a piece of paper and tried to imagine the real thing, a terminal that would allow self-service check-in for a doctor's appointment. The next iteration was less primitive, a laptop with an apparent touch screen, except that it didn't work; someone sitting beside it, using a separate keyboard, typed in the system's response like a high-tech ventriloquist. The model after that had a responsive touch screen, but the functionality was sparse. No matter. The kiosk was getting there.

And that was the idea: Put the earliest version, the rough sketch, in front of patients to see what they thought. Then use the feedback to tweak and retest. Then do the whole thing over again.

The Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, is no stranger to innovation. W.W. Mayo and his sons--still known here as Dr. Charlie and Dr. Will--founded their rural group practice in the late 1800s around a new concept at the time: integrated medical care, which involved various specialists working together in the same building, performing comprehensive evaluations, and administering coordinated treatment. Ever since, innovation has been a vital part of the clinic's DNA, traditionally in the research lab.

But the approach with the kiosk--rolling out unfinished ideas to patients--is something new. Last summer, Mayo opened SPARC, a clinical innovation lab that operates like a design shop and that specializes in the "patient experience." Doctors, nurses, and other staffers do what designers do: They interview, shadow, and observe customers (in this case, patients) to uncover their needs, brainstorm with abandon, and engage in rapid prototyping--hence, the paper kiosk.

Despite its status as one of the best known and most respected medical facilities in the world, Mayo is wrestling with the same issues that designers routinely tackle: In an increasingly competitive field, how do you differentiate yourself? How do you generate fresh ideas and implement them in a timely fashion? And how do you make sure those ideas actually benefit customers?

Mayo's program is "definitely unique, and it has enormous implications," says Dr. Samantha Collier, vice president of medical affairs at HealthGrades, which rates the quality of the nation's hospitals. "Medicine has long been embedded in tradition. But just because this is what we've done since the days of Marcus Welby doesn't mean it's still the best way. [Mayo] could find disruptive ways of practicing medicine better. This isn't just about customer service but about quality."

SPARC is not simply a research lab or a medical clinic. It's both. Real patients see real doctors and, in doing so, participate in experiments (they're briefed and asked for permission). Instead of being shunted off-site, the program is based in the Mayo Building like any other clinic; it occupies a corridor that used to house urology. The acronym, which stands for "see, plan, act, refine, and communicate," is meant to remind participants of the design-oriented methodology so they'll continue to employ it when they return to their departments.