Interview with Pak Hei Wang

Our journey began with a shared curiosity about how people "reclaim" their city. Living in a high-density environment like Hong Kong, we noticed that the most vibrant spaces weren't the ones designed by architects, but the ones "hacked" by residents. This collective drive to use design as a tool for social equity and community empowerment led us to form our group and focus on Social Design.

Our priorities are Participation, Resilience, and Strategic Vulnerability. We use "Strategic Weakness" as a technique—designing objects or systems that are intentionally "incomplete" to invite users to finish them. Our style is "Phygital"—a mix of raw, analog aesthetics (like Risograph printing) and digital precision (using tools like Three.js and automation).

We often feel a sense of "agitated optimism." The most exciting phase for our team is the fieldwork—seeing a resident use a corridor or a stairwell in a way we never predicted. There is a specific collective joy in witnessing a "fleeting imaginary space" come to life through the actions of the community.

Our background in continental philosophy and architectural theory—specifically the works of Hegel, Deleuze, and Foucault—has been a massive influence. It taught us to see power structures in urban layout. Additionally, our diverse skills in graphic design and digital automation allow us to make complex social issues accessible and engaging for the public.

Our growth path involves moving from local interventions to building a global digital archive of "Lesser Arts." We plan to expand our "Pocket Spaces" methodology to other high-density cities, with Amsterdam as a current point of interest for a pilot study. Our dream is to design a city that functions not as a rigid machine, but as a "playbook" for its citizens.

Do not be afraid of the "messy" or the "unpolished." In social design, a "perfect" render is often a wall that stops participation. Embrace "Strategic Weakness"—leave room for the user to breathe, to hack, and to disagree with your design. That is where real innovation happens.

We suggest moving away from the ego of the "creator" and toward the role of the "facilitator." Stop designing "solutions" and start designing "invitations." Our job isn't to fix the world for people, but to give them the tools to reimagine it for themselves.

Our day is a hybrid of high-tech and low-tech. It usually starts with coordinating our digital workflows and models, followed by "guerrilla" fieldwork in local housing estates. We spend a significant amount of time listening to residents' stories, which we then translate into design scripts, spatial prototypes, or community workshops.

We follow "Post-digital" and "Phygital" trends, but we treat them as a language rather than a rulebook. Trends matter because they define how we communicate with the current generation, but the "human grammar" of empathy and community remains the constant foundation of our work.

For us, a project is well-designed when it is "hacked." If a resident takes our design and changes it to fit their specific need, that is the ultimate success. We define good design as a "fleeting imaginary space" that becomes a reality through collective action.

Our design is ready when it no longer looks like "our" work and starts looking like "theirs." We know we have succeeded when the community takes ownership of the script and begins to iterate on it without our intervention.

"Pocket Spaces – Social Playbook." It is a culmination of extensive fieldwork in Hong Kong’s public housing estates. It isn't just a physical intervention, but a toolkit that empowers residents to reclaim underutilized urban corners through their own collective imagination.

We are inspired by the radical thinkers of the 1960s, such as Yona Friedman, as well as contemporary practitioners who prioritize social impact over aesthetic perfection. We admire those who see architecture as a living, breathing social contract.

We are immersed in the vibrant, dense urban fabric of Hong Kong. Our culture is one of "making do"—the ingenious way people solve problems with limited resources. We balance our intense research and design sprints with active recovery, often finding inspiration in the everyday "揦西" (unpolished) beauty of our city.

As Estate of Mine, our work culture is horizontal and collaborative. We believe in "Designing with, not for." Our philosophy is built on the idea that imagination is a form of infrastructure. We look for partners who aren't afraid of strategic vulnerability and who value long-term social resilience over short-term polish.

As a social design collective, we see our work as inherently philanthropic. Our "Pocket Spaces" project is essentially pro bono; we spend months in public housing estates conducting workshops and co-designing with residents because we believe design belongs to the community, not just high-paying clients.

Participating in the A’ Design Award has been a transformative experience for our team. The three main benefits for us have been: global visibility for local grassroots issues, validation of our "Lesser Design" philosophy by a prestigious international jury, and the opportunity to benchmark our social impact against global standards. This recognition has significantly boosted our career path, proving that social design projects can achieve the same level of design excellence as commercial ones. We believe design competitions are important because they create a global stage for "imagination as infrastructure." Being recognized as "Designer of the Day" (or a Gold winner) feels incredibly rewarding; it makes our mission to reclaim urban spaces feel heard and visible on an international level.

Pocket Spaces Lab is a research-led social design collective based in Hong Kong, We specialize in 'Urban Acupuncture'—using micro-interventions to solve macro-systemic issues in high-density living environments.

Our practice is rooted in deep ethnography; we don't just design products, we design assembly protocols and social infrastructures. By blending academic theories of 'Unfinished Urbanism' with grassroots spatial hacking, our studio aims to empower neglected communities through 'Strategic Vulnerability'—creating designs that are intentionally incomplete to invite resident participation. We are currently focused on scaling our award-winning 'Pocket Spaces' project from a pilot in Wah Fu Estate into a city-wide resilient network, bridging the gap between digital efficiency and the tactile friction of everyday life.

For me, design is not about providing a finished solution; it is a facilitator of agency. It is the art of 'Strategic Vulnerability'—creating intentionally 'unfinished' systems that invite others to participate. Design should be a catalyst that turns a passive observer into an active spatial hacker.

I focus on the 'friction' and the 'fringe.' I look for the neglected corners—stairwells, corridors, and transitional spaces. During the design process, I prioritize the 'Lesser Arts' of daily life, ensuring the design is humble enough to be adopted and modified by a 70-year-old resident without needing a professional toolkit.

The primary emotion is 'Relief through Relinquishment.' When a resident in Wah Fu Estate starts using the 'Pocket Spaces' playbook, I feel a profound sense of humility. It is the moment I realize the design no longer belongs to me—it belongs to the community. Seeing a neglected corridor transform into a social hub brings a sense of quiet triumph that no award can replicate.

A design is successful when the designer becomes invisible. In the case of 'Pocket Spaces,' success is measured by the moment a resident takes the playbook and modifies their corridor independently. When the community takes ownership of the system, the design has achieved its ultimate goal: fostering spatial autonomy.

I first look for 'Agency' and 'Ethics.' A good design doesn't just solve a problem; it empowers the user to solve their next problem independently. I ask: Does this design create a barrier or a bridge? Does it impose a 'perfect' solution from above, or does it invite participation from below? If a design is too polished to be modified, it has failed its social responsibility.

A designer’s responsibility is to advocate for 'Spatial Justice.' In a city as dense as Hong Kong, space is a luxury. Designers must act as 'Urban Acupuncturists,' identifying the points of tension in high-density housing and applying precise interventions that trigger systemic healing and community resilience.

The design field is shifting from 'Product-Centric' to 'System-Centric.' The future of design is 'Unfinished.' We are moving away from the era of the 'Star Designer' toward the era of the 'Facilitator.' Future designs will be open-source protocols—'Spatial Playbooks'—that combine digital efficiency (Phygital) with the raw, tactile friction of local materials, allowing residents to reclaim their right to the city.

Our most recent community sharing session and exhibition took place on April 18, 2026, at the Peng Chau Cinema, where we engaged with local residents. My next major exhibition will be the PolyU School of Design Graduation Show in June 2026, where 'Pocket Spaces' will be showcased as a mature social infrastructure model. We are also planning a series of localized 'Corridor Exhibitions' within public housing estates to bring the design directly to the people it serves.

My inspiration comes from 700 hours of field research in Wah Fu Estate. It comes from Gaston Bachelard’s 'Poetics of Space' and Tim Ingold’s theories on 'Making.' But most importantly, it comes from watching residents like 'Uncle Tak' use a simple clamp and a piece of discarded wood to reclaim a corner of a public corridor. That is the purest form of design.

I describe my style as 'Calculated Clumsiness'—a form of design that is intentionally 'unfinished' to encourage appropriation. I moved away from the pursuit of aesthetic perfection after witnessing the raw ingenuity of residents in high-density estates. The main characteristics of my style are: (1) Modularity, (2) Low-barrier assembly, and (3) Tactile Friction. My approach is to design the 'scaffolding' rather than the 'monument,' providing a framework that allows others to complete the design according to their own needs.

I live and practice in Hong Kong, a city defined by extreme hyper-density. This unique cultural and spatial heritage is the heart of my work. The 'pro' of living here is the incredible human resilience and the spontaneous 'space hacking' that happens in the margins of the city. The 'con' is the rigid top-down management of public spaces. My work tries to bridge this gap, using the local 'heritage of hacking' to challenge the formal constraints of urban living.

As a social design collective, we work with organizations as 'Community Design Researchers.' We don't just provide a visual solution; we offer deep ethnographic insights and co-creation protocols. We believe in a horizontal partnership where the company provides the resources and infrastructure, and we provide the human-centric bridge to ensure the intervention is ethically grounded and community-owned.

My suggestion is to trust the 'friction.' Companies often want seamless, fast solutions, but in social design, the best insights come from the difficult, messy conversations in the field. Select a designer not just for their portfolio, but for their ability to listen and their willingness to let the community influence the final outcome. Value the process as much as the product.

My process is a loop of 'Observe-Map-Hack-Iterate.' It begins with hundreds of hours of immersive ethnography to identify latent spatial needs. I then map these findings against architectural and social theories (such as Bachelard or Deleuze). The third stage is 'Hacking'—creating low-fidelity prototypes in-situ with residents. Finally, we iterate based on real-world use, refining the 'Spatial Playbook' until it is simple enough to be scaled.

Don't be afraid of 'Stupid Design.' We are taught to be perfect and polished, but there is immense power in being clumsy and open. Go to the field, listen more than you draw, and remember that the most radical changes often start in the smallest, most 'accidental' spaces.

The biggest positive is the ability to witness 'Systemic Resilience' first-hand—seeing how a small design intervention can restore dignity and agency to a community. It is a privilege to act as a bridge between high-level theory and daily survival. The negative, however, is the ethical weight and emotional labor of field research. Intervening in people's lives requires constant self-reflection and the courage to admit when a design isn't working for the residents it was intended for.

My golden rule is: 'The resident is the ultimate expert.' No matter how much theory I apply.lived experience of the person occupying the space always takes precedence. My job is to listen, observe, and provide the scaffolding that supports their existing wisdom.

Beyond technical proficiency, the most critical skills are Active Listening and Pattern Recognition. In social design, you must be able to hear what isn't being said and see the invisible 'flows' of a community. I also believe a designer needs the ability to synthesize complexity—taking a messy social problem and distilling it into a simple, actionable protocol.

My toolbox is a mix of high-tech and high-touch. It includes n8n for automating complex data workflows and image organization, and Riso printing for producing tactile, low-cost community manuals. Physically, it contains industrial clamps and modular frames for rapid prototyping in corridors. Intellectually, it is fueled by my collection of anthropological and philosophical texts, alongside logic puzzles like Sudoku, which I use to maintain mental clarity and structural thinking.

In social design, the timeline is organic rather than linear. For 'Pocket Spaces,' it took 700 hours of ethnographic immersion before the first prototype was even built. The design process doesn't truly 'end'; it evolves into a continuous loop of deployment, feedback, and iteration. A 'finished' object is just a snapshot of a larger, ongoing system.

I am often asked: 'Is this allowed?' or 'Will the authorities let you do this?' This question highlights the exact problem my work seeks to address—the internalised fear of occupying public space. My response is always that design should be used to push the boundaries of 'what is possible' within the 'what is allowed,' reclaiming spatial rights through creative hacking.

I am looking to scale 'Pocket Spaces' into a city-wide social infrastructure. I am currently seeking funding to expand our pilot from Wah Fu Estate to other high-density communities like Mei Lam and Butterfly Estate. My goal is to establish a global archive of 'Lesser Arts' and continue my research into unfinished urbanism across Europe and Asia.