Design Researcher Jasper van Kuijk Ends Ten Years as a Volkskrant Columnist: ‘The OV-Fiets is Brilliant'

"How Hard Can It Be?" Columnist Jasper van Kuijk Bids Farewell: 'Constraints Are Fine, But Not an Excuse for Bad Design'

// On the occasion of my last column in the Volkskrant last weekend, there was also a farewell interview in the paper, by Tonie Mudde

For ten years in his Hoe moeilijk kan het zijn? column, design researcher Jasper van Kuijk dissected products and—more and more—services "that you, as a citizen, simply cannot avoid." Today, his final column is published.

Ask him which of his hundreds of columns has stuck with him the most, and Jasper van Kuijk answers without hesitation: "The one about Jochem and Anne, a couple trying to apply for care funding for their son."

They invited the design researcher and Volkskrant columnist to their kitchen table to watch as they struggled to navigate a maze of agencies and digital systems just to claim the care funding they were entitled to.

Van Kuijk winced at what he saw. "A missing 'submit' button that only appears if you first call the municipality to have a checkbox enabled. And that was just one of countless, cringeworthy, incomprehensible hoops they had to jump through—all while dealing with the stress of caring for a child in need." What made it even more painful? Anne is a doctor, Jochem works in IT. "You’d think they’d be a dream team for figuring out government systems," Van Kuijk says during a visit to the Volkskrant newsroom. "If even they can’t manage it…"

In his column Hoe Moeilijk Kan Het Zijn?, Van Kuijk pointed out flawed thinking in design. Neglecting the user—that was the common thread running through his work from the very first piece.

The Accidental Columnist

"Let’s try it for a year," he agreed with the then-editor of the science section when he wrote his first column in February 2015. One year turned into ten, and today marks the final column from the man who, through his writing and books, has become something of the Netherlands’ national design thinker.

Design was not in his family background. His father was an English teacher, his mother a nurse. He grew up in Den Helder, a town in the northern tip of the Netherlands where you can get your driver’s license without ever having to drive on a highway. Young Jasper was obsessed with LEGO and building huts, and in high school, he took both science subjects and art classes.

One day, he visited an open day at Delft University of Technology (TU Delft), where industrial design students were showcasing carts and tools to help children with disabilities play alongside other kids more easily. "That a product could contribute so much to someone’s joy—that really struck me," he says. "And they looked cool too, not medical or clunky. Something that would make other kids on the playground go, ‘I want one of those too!’"

The decision to study Industrial Design Engineering was quickly made. While in Delft, he also took a cabaret course, which led to him joining a twelve-person comedy group, Delfts Blok. In 2001, they won the Groningen Student Cabaret Festival and started touring the country.

A Mind That Never Stops

Anyone who has worked with Van Kuijk knows: he is a bundle of energy. Always juggling ten projects at once, constantly brainstorming. After finishing university, he saw a psychologist because of what he described as 'too much going on in my head.'

"We can run some tests," the psychologist said, "and they might suggest you have ADHD and should take Ritalin. But I also think a lot of your success comes from how your mind works. So we could also just… not do the tests." Van Kuijk opted to skip the tests. Live with it.

Later, as a father of young children and alongside his work at TU Delft and a weekly column, he launched a solo career in theater. His show Janus, about polarization in society, was picked up by Netflix.

Today, he lives in rural Sweden with his family—he speaks the language, his mother is Swedish—where he recently started a full-time research position at Karlstad University. On his own request, he is ending his weekly column.

Ten years is a nice, round number. Plus, I’m less tuned in to the everyday frustrations of Dutch life now—I’m picking up more on typical Swedish frustrations instead. I want to quit before you all start saying, ‘Uhh Jasper, you don’t really get what’s happening here anymore.’"

Has your choice of topics changed over the years?

"I can still write a sharp column about a so-called 'smart' fridge that isn’t actually smart. But these days, I prefer to focus on products and services you simply can’t avoid as a citizen. If a fridge is bad, it’ll disappear from the market. But if a system for applying for government benefits is incomprehensible, you can’t just go to another tax office.

In my new job, I’ll be focusing entirely on responsible digital transitions of critical systems—things like electronic patient records. If those don’t work smoothly, they increase workload stress, lead to more burnout, and ultimately, less time for actual patient care."

Do organizations ever get angry at you? Like, ‘Easy for you to criticize from the sidelines’?

"Oh, absolutely. I once wrote a column about a government invoicing system so complicated that freelancers needed two extra hours just to figure it out.

"The responsible civil servant was not amused. He said the system was actually designed to allow large organizations to exchange invoices digitally, rather than manually creating, scanning, or copying PDFs.

"For 80% of invoices, this system worked well—for big companies that often do business with the government. But for a freelancer doing occasional work, it was a nightmare. That’s a classic example of how a design reflects what its creators prioritize."

But you do have some sympathy for designers, right? They face budget limits, privacy regulations…

"Constraints are fine, but they’re not an excuse for bad design. As poet Jules Deelder once said: ‘Within constraints, the possibilities are just as limitless as outside them.’ "A poorly designed government system mostly tells you who that government cares about—and who it doesn’t."

So, ‘Show me your design, and I’ll see your priorities’?

"Exactly. And that’s not just true for governments. "E-commerce websites are highly user-friendly because if they aren’t, they don’t sell anything. After a series of disasters, nuclear power plant control rooms have been redesigned to prioritize clear and safe operation. But government websites? They don’t sell anything, and they have no competition. Yet 2.5 million Dutch citizens aren’t digitally literate—for them, a bad government website is a disaster. Half of all Dutch people over 75 don’t even have a smartphone."

What’s the alternative for those people? A civil servant filling out forms for them? That sounds expensive.

"You know what’s really expensive? When people become alienated from society and start distrusting the government because they can’t access basic services. When people end up in debt because they don’t realize they’re missing out on benefits they’re entitled to.

In Sweden, every government letter includes a name and phone number—not a call center, but an actual person who can answer questions. Most people don’t need to call. But if you’re in a complex situation—going through a divorce, illness, or job loss—you can talk to someone who knows your case and can help."

Do any designs actually make you happy?

"The Dutch OV-fiets rental bike is brilliant. It used to be a mess—show ID, pay a deposit, a hassle. Now? Boom. One minute, and you’ve got a decent bike for cheap.

And EV charging stations in Europe are improving. At first, companies were shady about pricing—you’d only find out when you got to the station with a near-empty battery. The EU changed that. Now, they must show prices upfront and must accept regular bank cards, not just proprietary charge cards designed to lock you into one network.

Lots of good things are happening too."

So what will you do when a bad design infuriates you and you no longer have a column?

"I fear my Swedish students and colleagues will have to endure my rants. But at least they’ll be about Swedish design failures they can relate to."