The Tale of Rosie & Archie: with Minnie Moll

By Sandy Glanfield

Under Minnie Moll’s desk, two unlikely friends would lie close enough to touch.

Rosie is a chicken.
Archie a Jack Russell.

If you know anything about Jack Russells, you might assume this story would not end well. They are, after all, known for chasing small animals. It is often described as instinctive. Hard-wired. Just the way things are.

And yet.

Rosie and Archie built a bond. In the photo Minnie shares, they are curled up in their own little beds beneath her desk, bodies close, quietly keeping one another company. There is no tension. No dominance. Just ease. Affection. Belonging.

What strikes me most is not only that Minnie believed it was possible for these two to coexist, but that she made space for it. She did not accept the inherited story about how things must be. She trusted that connection could be learned, that difference did not have to mean danger, and that care could override expectation.

That small, beautiful scene says so much about how Minnie sees the world.

It speaks to a limitless belief in what is possible. A willingness to imagine beyond the obvious. A deep, lived commitment to welcoming all life. Even the fact that Rosie and Archie are under her desk matters. This is not a separate, ornamental kindness. It is woven into how she works, how she leads, how she lives.

It sparks energy, imagination, and hope. And honestly, thank goodness someone like that has been at the helm of the Design Council.

Minnie has a rare kind of magic in her thinking. The ability to see beyond what most of us can see. To trust that something better can exist, even when the path there is unclear.

That way of seeing runs directly through the Design Council’s Design for Planet mission, which Minnie helped create and launch at COP26 in Glasgow. From the beginning, this work was rooted in a simple truth. We may not have all the answers, but we know this is the right thing to do.

That takes courage.

There is a temptation, especially at scale, to wait until everything is mapped out. To delay action until certainty arrives. Minnie chose a different path. She talks about “building in flight.” Getting started. Learning as you go. Allowing early implementers to shape what emerges.

She also describes this work as cathedral thinking. Laying foundations that others will build upon. Creating something that is not owned or finished, but grown collectively over time.

The power of this approach is evident in who was invited in. Kate Raworth, who so clearly asked, “If you are not designing for planet, what planet are you on?” It is a question that still echoes. If we are not designing for this extraordinary world, and for lives in which all can thrive, what exactly are we designing for?

And then Brian Eno, with his generous and galvanising call to “find the others.” Find the people who will help build this cathedral. Find those who are ready to commit to a better way of doing.

The foundations are there, and they continue to grow. Five years on, they have launched a blueprint for the skills that designers need to be able to put planetary needs front and centre. Hosting a global gathering of designers at the World Design Congress last year, the work keeps widening. This is not a closed system. It is a living one.

It reminds me of something the Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said when the Australian government committed to banning social media for under 16s. He acknowledged openly that it would take time. That they knew it was right, but they did not yet know how to do it. That they would need to research, ask questions, test approaches, and learn along the way.

There is something deeply honest in that. And deeply important.

What if we did more of this? What if we allowed ourselves to begin from moral imperative, rather than technical certainty? What if we said, this matters, so we start. We stay curious. We forgive missteps. We adapt. But we do not turn back simply because the work is hard, or because a short-term alternative looks tempting.

At a time when climate commitments are being quietly loosened around the world, this matters more than ever. You do not abandon a cathedral because the weather changes. You do not dismantle foundations because attention shifts. You stay the course because you know it is right.

This is where Minnie’s leadership feels so aligned with the Golden Rule. Living with limitless belief. Acting from care rather than fear. Doing what you would hope others would do if the roles were reversed. Gathering people not to control them, but to invite them into shared responsibility.

There is faith here. Faith in what is possible. Faith in each other. Faith that learning together is not weakness, but strength.

Rosie and Archie remind us of this. Two beings who, according to the rules, should not work. And yet they do. Because someone believed they could. Because space was made. Because love and trust were allowed to lead.

What an incredible woman Minnie is. Brave. Courageous. Humble enough to experiment. Imaginative enough to see beyond the obvious. And generous enough to invite others to build alongside her.

I cannot wait to see the legacy that continues to grow from the foundations she has helped lay.

And every time I think of that photo, of a chicken and a Jack Russell gently touching beneath a desk, I am reminded that a better world often begins exactly like this. With belief. With welcome. With the quiet confidence that something kinder is possible, if we are willing to make room for it.