Jan Chipchase conducts exploratory human behavioural field research for Nokia. Living and working from Tokyo, his home since 2000, he splits his time between exploring and bringing real world experiences into the company – using them to inform and inspire the design of new applications, services, products and systems. After six years as Principal Researcher at the Nokia Research Center, Tokyo, he joined Nokia Design. On his travels to places we call remote he pays close attention to how people make use and sense of their mobile. Here's some of what he found.

http://www.janchipchase.com

http://research.nokia.com/people/jan_chipchase/

All artworks in this receiver issue are part of a student project by the Central Academy of Fine Arts, Beijing, China

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It's Ulan Bataar in the middle of the winter and the two disciples in red flowing robes kicking a football around a stony courtyard look up to see an approaching stranger. Social interaction is easy when you're obviously 'not from around here' and in broken English they extend an invitation out of the bitter cold and into the monasterial calm. When the conversation drifts to my employer disciple #1 extends a hand into his sleeve and slides out his mobile phone comparing it to the newer, bulkier, 3G model that I've borrowed for this trip. Without breaking the steady flow of our conversation he holds a phone in each hand, deftly pairs both devices, and data-mines mine for photos, wallpapers and ring tones – transferring the ones that take his fancy to his own device. I'm not quite sure what higher calling they teach here but his multi-tasking skills are finessed well beyond the skills of this mere mortal.

A fortnight later and I'm huddled under the awning of a cycle rickshaw parked on the fringes of Lhasa's Barkhor Square. The driver of the rickshaw is patiently explaining how Tibet has changed during his lifetime with a cheery demeanor that belies both his scant winter trade and his likely disposable income. It's close to midnight and the traders selling incense, herbal remedies and prayer wheels to the devotional have left hours ago leaving the square deserted save for a light dusting of snow and a descending mist. A muffled ring tone can be heard under layers of clothes and he pulls off a glove, reaches into his coat, draws out a RAZR – his wife wants to know when he can be expected home. He drops me at the delightfully named Yak Hotel and cycles into the night.

Almost a year later and I'm with a colleague conducting ad hoc interviews in the back streets around Cairo's Ramses Railway Station – on the lookout for interesting characters doing things in (hopefully) interesting ways. The owner of a small café beckons us over and after explaining who we are and the purpose of our research we make a start on the questions. Fortunately the midday heat has dissipated to the point where I no longer drip sweat on the interview participants and towards the end of our conversation the owner gives permission to snap a few photos of himself and the artifacts that make this place what it is. Before I can take the lens cap off, a waiter pulls out a 6600 and documents us documenting him.

Stories echoed from Nairobi to New York to New Delhi, and yes, you probably have a few of your own.

But have you ever stopped to wonder why? Why, regardless of culture, age, gender and increasingly context you're likely to find a mobile phone in the hand, pocket or bag of the person next to you? Put simply – the ability to communicate over distances in a personal convenient manner is universally understood and appreciated, and it's easy enough to get the basics without going to night school or taking a PhD. It certainly helps that, as a functional tool that can be used discreetly or with a flourish, the mobile phone makes an ideal vehicle for projecting one's status and personal preferences – from the choice of brand, model, ring tone or wallpaper, or simply that (because you're connected) you've arrived.

Today over 3 billion of the world's 6.6 billion people have cellular connectivity and it is expected that another billion will be connected by 2010. But what is often overlooked is the disproportionate impact of mobile phones on different societies, which is one of the reasons why, as researchers, we increasingly prefer to spend time in places like Cairo and Kampala: there is simply more to learn. These are places where for many, it's the first time they have the ability to communicate personally and conveniently over distances – without having to worry whether someone can overhear the topic of their conversation – communicate with whom they want, when they want. It makes new businesses viable and creates markets where there was none. For many it's the first time they can provide a stable fixed point of reference to the outside world – a phone number, which in turn creates a new form of identity that in turn enables everything from rudimentary banking to commerce. And not least – each new feature on or accessible through the mobile phone brings new modes of use – unencumbered by my, and probably your entrenched (and increasingly outdated) notions of entertainment, the 'right' way to capture and share experiences, the internet. If you work or study in the mobile space and you're expected to innovate, these are places that bring fresh thinking and new perspectives.

Much of our research started out as an attempt to understand the similarities and differences to what we already knew in order to create products and services that are more in tune with local markets. But increasingly we've had our eyes opened to the sheer ingenuity of people who figure out ways of doing a lot with very little – highly relevant for a planet having to make stark choices about sparse resources. For example the practices around sharing have helped shape our notions of ownership and access – that we've applied to the thinking and design of future infrastructures. Our research into illiteracy highlighted the practice of delegating tasks that require an understanding of words and numbers to other people – and that in fact delegation is a solution for many system design problems – what do we expect the user to do, what can be delegated to technology, and especially relevant to the close-knit communities in emerging markets – what can be delegated to other people? The extent and sophistication of the street repair cultures have changed the way we think about how our products are made, distributed, disposed of and recycled. And occasionally we come across something so elegant and in tune with the local conditions that it could never be designed for – like Sente, the informal practice of sending and converting airtime into cash, effectively allowing anyone with a mobile phone to function as a rudimentary ATM machine. Not least if you want to create a service that people value, you'd be hard pressed to find a more critical group of consumers than people with limited and infrequent levels of disposable income.

This is not to say that you can't find examples like this in Tokyo, London or New York, but rather that they are harder to spot. And this is not to say that there is only one story in 'emerging markets' – India's middle class is approaching the size of, oh, the combined populations of Germany, France, Italy and the United Kingdom and yes now is a good time to get your kids signed up to that Mandarin class.

But back to Ulan Bataar, Lhasa and Cairo and the big trends that will affect the next wave of innovation. As objects become smaller, their ability to travel further and travel faster grows – technologies that are considered cutting edge in London today will rapidly disseminate to Lagos and yes, to the rickshaw driver in Lhasa. The dissemination is helped by: a shared appreciation of the value of the mobile phone and what it enables – creating demand pull; the sheer volumes of an infrastructure that supports a billion+ products a year industry; the replacement cycle of feature-rich mobile phones in developed markets and formal and informal ways of getting these products into local markets; and the fact that these markets are resourceful in keeping these products alive, long after they would have entered landfill elsewhere.

A few months ago and I'm standing in a very dusty Nima market, situated close to the heart of Accra, having tagged along with colleagues from our LA design studio who are here to iterate a number of new design ideas. Right now I'm just getting in the way so it's an opportunity to wander off, meet and greet. One gentleman extends his hand in the local version of the hand-shake, a LiveStrong bracelet dangles from his wrist, or more to the point a local variation of the LiveStrong bracelet. Yet another small object that has sufficient value to be locally appreciated, but is still not quite understood in the way that its designer intended.

Small objects travel further and travel faster – their meaning adapting to the ever-changing context. Every step an opportunity.

This article was written for receiver

Full list of Jan Chipchase's presentations here.

Contact: Jan Chipchase

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