Redesigning without understanding: what LEGO nearly forgot (…and something any of us could forget)

What happens when we stop seeing what play really means‍

For years, LEGO had operated under the belief that its technical excellence—brick quality, piece innovation, thematic expansion—was enough to sustain connection with its audiences. But the decline of iconic lines like LEGO City revealed something deeper: the company had lost sight of how play was evolving, and of the emotional and social meaning children assigned to their toys.

“One of the company’s biggest problems was that kids simply didn’t like the new designs” (Kuniavsky, Goodman & Moed, 2012, p. 4).

That’s when LEGO embraced a practice still underestimated in many organizations: applied anthropology, firmly grounded in cultural psychology. By observing users in their real contexts—not in labs or staged focus groups—LEGO discovered it wasn’t selling toys, but symbolic vehicles for identity, mastery, and belonging.

A now-famous example comes from a German boy who proudly showed his worn-down sneakers as proof that he had mastered a skateboarding trick. That image captures what LEGO may have overlooked: children aren’t necessarily looking for ease, but for experiences of mastery.

“The boys they had met, like the German skater, were interested in experiences of ‘mastery’: learning skills and, as with the worn-down sneaker, demonstrating that mastery to others” (Kuniavsky et al., 2012, p. 5).

The company had simplified its models, believing that this was “better UX,” when in fact, it stripped play of its emotional, narrative, and challenging dimensions.

“For years, the company had believed that kids wanted a ‘plug and play’ experience… The anthros came back from time spent with kids telling a different story” (Kuniavsky et al., 2012, p. 5).

One of the most revealing insights was this: the problem didn’t seem to be the product design itself, but rather the way the company had interpreted its users culturally. In Japan, for example, marketing LEGO as “educational” made it less appealing because of a strong cultural separation between play and learning.

“Selling LEGO products as ‘educational’ blurred that difference for parents, making them unsuitable either as toys or as teaching devices” (Kuniavsky et al., 2012, p. 5).

These nuances don’t emerge from dashboards or NPS scores. They come from ethnographic immersion and open-minded listening.

What I Keep Reminding Myself After Reading (and Writing) About LEGO

This isn’t meant to be a lesson. It’s simply a way of reminding myself—and maybe sharing—three ideas I try to hold onto in my daily practice. Not new discoveries, but sometimes the hardest things are those we forget:

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What seems obvious can mislead.

Having data, experience, or reputation doesn’t mean we truly understand those we design for. Sometimes what blocks innovation isn’t a lack of ideas, but too much trust in our own assumptions.

Design is not just about solving problems—it’s about interpreting meaning.

Problem-solving is important, yes, but not enough. We need to understand context, languages, cultural codes. A design without cultural understanding may be technically correct, but symbolically hollow.

Listening is not a phase—it’s a culture.

LEGO didn’t just “do research” once: it embedded listening into its innovation model. True transformation happens when listening shapes how we think and decide—not just how we ideate.

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“They integrated research activities into everyday business processes. The fate of research insights isn’t under control of researchers; it takes collaborative relationships across companies, and support from management” (Kuniavsky et al., 2012, p. 8).

LEGO wasn’t saved by a new product set or a clever slogan, but by a radical decision: to learn to see the world through its users’ eyes.

“The most expert toymaker or management consultant in the world could not have told LEGO designers how to do these things. They had to learn it from their customers” (Kuniavsky et al., 2012, p. 7).

In a world saturated with metrics, that remains one of the boldest—and perhaps most effective—moves a brand can make.

May we never stop being surprised by how much we still don’t know about the people we design for.

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This article was written by me, Laura Martín. I used AI tools to support research and structure, but every reflection, lens, and editorial choice reflects my own perspective as a researcher and UX strategist.