Storytelling plays a central role in Speculative Design. Through fiction, designers create imagined worlds that invite people to look at reality from a different perspective. But why is storytelling so effective at questioning the present? And what makes fictional worlds capable of making us reconsider things that normally seem obvious or unquestionable?
One reason is that stories allow us to imagine possibilities beyond our immediate reality. They help us generate mental images, explore alternative scenarios, and set the imagination in motion (Penati, 2013, p. 22). In this way, storytelling becomes a bridge between what exists and what could exist, giving access to what Penati calls «the plurality of possible worlds». As he writes: «In narrative we recognise the capacity to understand, interpret, and represent, giving the form of reality to worlds that are true or born of fantasy». What makes these worlds particularly engaging is that they rarely feel completely detached from everyday life. When confronted with a future scenario, we instinctively start asking practical questions. How would we live in that world? How would we work, eat, communicate, or move through our daily routines? Even the most radical futures become believable when they are connected to familiar human experiences. It is this combination of distance and familiarity that allows speculative narratives to resonate so strongly.
By building a narrative, designers do more than communicate an idea. They invite people to enter a scenario and experience it from within. The audience is not simply observing; it actively participates by interpreting the story and imagining its consequences. This temporary shift in perspective creates room for reflection and makes it easier to question assumptions that usually go unnoticed. As Dolezel (1998) observes: «Our actual world is surrounded by an infinity of other possible worlds. One only needs to move slightly away from reality to enter the spectrum of possibility and alternative».
Narrative is therefore not just a way of communicating ideas; it is also a way of thinking through them. Jonathan Gottschall describes human beings as homo fictus, creatures who constantly create, consume, and live through stories. Narratives are not merely entertainment. They are one of the main tools we use to understand ourselves and the world around us. This idea is echoed by the psychologist and novelist Keith Oatley, who compares stories to flight simulators for social life. Just as pilots can train for difficult situations without facing real danger, stories allow us to explore emotional, moral, and social challenges without experiencing their real-world consequences. They provide a safe space in which we can test reactions, consider alternatives, and imagine outcomes.
Speculative Design intentionally draws on this capacity. Its goal is not simply to illustrate a concept, but to create an experience that generates both emotional and intellectual engagement. As game designer James Wallis points out, human beings do not just enjoy stories; they are driven to create them. Narrative taps into something deeply rooted in the way we think and make sense of the world. As Jonathan Gottschall argues, every compelling story revolves around conflict: a tension, an obstacle, or a disruption that needs to be confronted. In Speculative Design, that conflict often emerges from the gap between what we know and what we are shown. The resulting sense of disorientation encourages reflection and opens the door to critical thinking. As the British playwright William Maugham once observed, fiction works like bitter medicine coated in sugar: the message is absorbed almost without notice because it arrives through an engaging story. This is what gives narrative its particular power within Speculative Design. Rather than simply explaining an idea, it stays with us, leaving an impression that explanation alone rarely achieves.
