For David Byron, the director of Innovation Strategy at Sundberg-Ferar in Commerce Twp., creativity isn’t just a skill — it’s a lifelong calling.
“I always wanted to be a car designer,” he says. “Since I was five.”
That early ambition propelled him from New Jersey to Detroit, where he enrolled at the College for Creative Studies (CCS), sight unseen.
“I found a book at Barnes & Noble in the late nineties about how to draw cars like a pro. The author said, ‘If this is something you'd like to do as a career, look at the CCS in Detroit.” Byron says. “I said, That's what I want to do. I never even applied to another college. I never visited Detroit. But after graduating high school, I packed up my Firebird and drove here.”
Now, more than two decades later, Byron has evolved far beyond his automotive roots. At Sundberg-Ferar, one of the nation’s oldest independent design consultancies, he leads innovation projects that span mobility, consumer goods, healthcare and beyond. His approach is grounded in human-centered design and driven by curiosity: “Once I started designing things other than cars, I realized — I just love designing everything.”
That curiosity has led to some extraordinary collaborations. One of his most well-known projects is Hyundai’s walking car — yes, a vehicle with legs — which debuted on the keynote stage at the Consumer Electronics Show (CES), the world’s largest tech show. Byron led the design team that answered Hyundai’s provocative question: What if a car could walk? From snowbound vehicles stuck just feet from safety to disaster-response rovers that crawl over rubble to reach survivors, the result wasn’t just futuristic — it was deeply practical.
“That project ended up in the Smithsonian,” Byron says, still amazed. “I took my wife and daughter out to D.C., and there I was — my face in a display next to a video of the car. It was surreal.”
But Byron isn’t content with splashy concept cars or one-off showpieces. His work often veers into less visible — but equally transformative — realms, such as user experience design, systems thinking and service design. One current project, for example, involves a membership model for Merit Park, a new community wellness and recreation space in northwest Detroit.
“It’s not just a park — it’s a community hub,” he explains. “We’re designing how it works, how it includes people, how it delivers value. That’s design, too.”
In fact, Byron has helped “design” nonprofits themselves — guiding missions, services and engagement strategies using the same processes that drive physical product development.
“Design is ultimately about identifying needs — both functional and emotional — and creating a desirable solution,” he says. “Whether that’s a kitchen appliance, a digital interface or a membership structure.”
Back in the tangible world, he’s led the design of everything from medical wearables to pet products to small kitchen appliances — many of which may already be sitting on your countertop. Earlier in his career, he also designed helmets for Warrior Sports — equipment that is still in use by professional hockey players today.
Still, his design ethos is not rooted in nostalgia for Detroit’s auto industry’s glory days. It’s oriented toward a future of collaboration and sustainability.
“There’s a growing movement here,” he says. “Detroit used to be competitive to a fault — everyone guarded their ideas. Now there’s real momentum toward openness, toward co-creation. That’s what made Silicon Valley thrive. And we’re finally embracing that here.”
Part of that energy stems from Byron himself. He’s an active teacher at the College for Creative Studies, where he’s taught for 18 years — not for the paycheck, he says, but to stay connected to young talent and fresh ideas.
“They give to me as much as I give to them,” he says. “It keeps my creative juices flowing.”
He’s also president of the Michigan Design Council, a nonprofit that promotes design education and careers through initiatives like the M-Prize, a statewide design challenge for K–12 students.
“We’re planting seeds early,” he says. “Showing kids that design is a powerful tool — they can use it to build the future they want to see.”
Byron’s inspiration often comes from nature — sunlight filtering through trees, the gait of an alligator versus a dog, the structural beauty of a spider’s movement. “God is the greatest designer of all,” he says.
At this point in his career, he’s achieved what many only dream of: a car on a billboard in Times Square, a vehicle in the Smithsonian, a Mustang in his driveway that he designed himself. But he measures success differently now.
“That supercar was my dream come true,” he says. “But I remember sitting with my mom, and I said, ‘It’s amazing. But it didn’t change anyone’s life.’ And that was the turning point. I wanted to do more than make things look cool — I wanted to solve problems that matter.”
And for David Byron, that’s exactly what design is: a way to make life better, one idea, one product, one solution at a time.