The title is about an innovator's challenges.
Some good sentences which I took notes would be good to share with readers.
1. Service is about hiring the product to get the job done. For example, through service experience, a service designer understood that why a McDonald's store had a heavy consumption of milk shake only in the early morning. Commuters need something to go with the traffic jam.
2. A killer application is what to do what we wanted to do.
3. Referring to education, we need to figure out what jobs students trying to do?
Students want to be successful in school learning and also have fun with friends.
4. New service models based on disruptive technology, such as knowledge based services.
5. Look at the world in different ways, and teach students in understanding others' needs.
3 則留言:
還記得本場次演講，全程英文，不提供口譯服務。對於能力不足、沒有把握聽懂全部內容的某些學習者來說，主人的筆記重點貼心地提供了最佳的知識型服務。有心的學習者，不需失望地孤立在清大學術殿堂之外，因著主人 understanding other’s needs與引領，讓求知若渴的讀者循著主人深入淺出與簡潔的文字，知識不再空泛或遙不可及，我們正享受著「破壞式創新」的貼心服務。Dr. Bernard Lown said: “A sympathetic understanding of what went wrong does not erase past hurts but can make them far more bearable.”
「服務」系統的設計終需回歸關心「人」。羅恩醫師九十多歲的老母親，家人原本安排讓老母親以人道方式結束人生；然而，被僵化的自動化與紊亂的急救體系打斷。您能想像這樣的情景嗎？羅恩醫師的老母親最後這樣結束人生：躺在地上、全身衣物被急救團隊脫了下來、嘴裡放進了管子、下巴是白色泡沫…… 羅恩醫師推開這群不經思考的團隊，大聲尖叫：她是我媽媽，你們看不出她死了嗎？我是醫師… 羅恩醫師邊說邊哭……「我是她兒子」…
奇怪？之前留言怎麼消失了？？？是否是系統又出現小狀況呢？
還記得本場次演講，全程英文，不提供口譯服務。對於能力不足、沒有把握聽懂全部內容的某些學習者來說，主人的筆記重點貼心地提供了最佳的知識型服務。有心的學習者，不需失望地孤立在清大學術殿堂之外，因著主人 understanding other’s needs與引領，求知若渴的讀者循著主人深入淺出與簡潔的文字，知識不再空泛或遙不可及，我們正享受著「破壞式創新」的貼心服務。Dr. Bernard Lown said: “A sympathetic understanding of what went wrong does not erase past hurts but can make them far more bearable.”
「服務」系統的設計終需回歸關心「人」。羅恩醫師九十多歲的老母親，原本家人安排讓老母親以人道方式結束人生；然而被僵化的SOP、自動化與紊亂的急救體系打斷，您能想像這樣的情景嗎？羅恩醫師的老母親這樣結束人生：躺在地上、全身衣物被急救團隊脫了下來、嘴裡放進了管子、下巴是白色泡沫…… 羅恩醫師推開這群不經思考的團隊，大聲尖叫：她是我媽媽，你們看不出她死了嗎？我是醫師… 羅恩醫師邊說邊哭……「我是她兒子」…
The sight I encountered was unbelievably ghastly. My mother was lying on the floor completely nude, a tracheal tube stuck in her mouth, her chin covered by a white froth, her face puffed with purplish suffusion, both hands swollen from intravenous infusions going nowhere, her skin already submitting to death’s waxy pallor. Hefty robust men were compressing her chest and discharging a defibrillator against her dead heart. It was a spectacle of utter obscenity, a Kafkaesque nightmare. I screamed and tried to push the men away, but they shoved me out of the room, ignoring my shouts. “This is my mother. Don’t you see she is dead? I am a doctor.” I pleaded between sobs, “I am her son.”
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