I released the first small batch of Focus Switches in December 2025, but the story behind it started much earlier.
In fact, depending on how far back you want to go, it probably started when I was a kid.
I've always fidgeted. Pens get clicked, bottle labels get peeled, switches get flicked and anything vaguely mechanical gets absent-mindedly played with. Give me something with a satisfying button on it and I'll probably press it repeatedly without even realising I'm doing it.
For most of my life, I didn't really think much about why.
It was just something I did.
Understanding why I fidget
I was diagnosed with ADHD in my late thirties, and the diagnosis gave me a new way of understanding a lot of things about myself.
Behaviours and habits that had previously seemed disconnected suddenly made a little more sense. That included my relationship with attention, restlessness and the almost constant need to have something in my hands while I was thinking, listening or concentrating.
Fidgeting was one small part of that.
Rather than viewing it as a habit I needed to suppress, I became interested in understanding it. I started noticing when I fidgeted, what I reached for and the kinds of movements and sensations I found satisfying.
And, as a designer, it wasn't long before that curiosity turned into a design problem.
I started looking at the fidget toys that already existed and found plenty of things that were fun to interact with, but relatively few that I actually wanted sitting on my desk.
A lot felt like toys. They were brightly coloured, plastic and deliberately playful. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't what I wanted for myself.
I wanted something tactile and satisfying that also felt considered. Something made from beautiful materials that I could leave beside my laptop without it looking out of place.
Something that felt like it had been designed for an adult workspace.
Because people who fidget, struggle with attention or simply find comfort in having something to do with their hands deserve beautiful things too.
That idea eventually became Focus Lab.
Before Focus Switch, there was Focus Deck
The first product I began developing wasn't actually Focus Switch.
It was Focus Deck.
The original idea was relatively simple: what if I could create a small control panel filled with satisfying physical interactions?
Buttons to press. Dials to turn. Wheels to roll. Sliders to move. Switches to flick.
A collection of tactile mechanisms brought together into one object that could sit permanently on your desk beside your laptop and keyboard.
It wouldn't control anything. There would be no screen, software or electronics. The interactions themselves would be the point.
Something for restless hands during meetings, phone calls, reading, thinking or those moments between tasks when it's incredibly easy to find yourself reaching for your phone.
That idea has developed considerably since those first experiments, and Focus Deck is still the product I'm working towards.
But developing it unexpectedly produced something else.
Finding the right click
One of the surprisingly difficult parts of designing Focus Deck has been finding the right components.
A switch isn't just a switch.
Some feel loose. Some require too much force. Some make an unpleasant sound. Some feel cheap. Others have exactly the right combination of resistance, movement and feedback that makes you immediately want to flick them again.
I spent a lot of time sourcing and testing different mechanical parts, looking for components that provided the particular tactile feeling I wanted.
Eventually I found a toggle switch that just felt right.
It had a satisfying mechanical movement, a reassuring amount of resistance and a lovely positive click as it moved into position.
I knew almost immediately that I wanted it on Focus Deck.
At around the same time, I was experimenting with the materials that would eventually form the body of the product.
One of those materials was solid walnut.
A switch and a block of walnut
I've always loved walnut. It has a beautiful dark colour, a warm natural grain and the ability to feel both contemporary and timeless.
So, as part of my early Focus Deck experiments, I took the toggle switch I'd found and mounted it into a small block of walnut.
There wasn't really a product idea behind it at that point. I simply wanted to understand how the two materials worked together and how precisely the wood would need to be machined to hold the switch.
But when I picked it up and flicked the switch, something clicked.
Quite literally.
The combination worked.
The walnut felt warm and reassuring in the hand, while the metal switch felt precise and mechanical. There was a satisfying contrast between the natural variation of the wood and the engineered certainty of the toggle.
And it was really nice to play with.
That rough experiment became the beginning of Focus Switch.
The very first hand carved Focus Switch prototype.
Taking one part of Focus Deck and putting it in your pocket
I realised there was something appealing about taking a single interaction from Focus Deck and allowing it to exist on its own.
Instead of a desktop control panel with lots of different interactions, this would do just one thing.
It would be a switch.
A really satisfying switch.
That simplicity also created a different kind of product. Focus Deck was designed to live on a desk, whereas this smaller object could sit in your hand, slip into a pocket or travel with you.
It was almost like taking a little piece of Focus Deck with you.
The challenge then became turning a rough block of wood with a switch stuck in it into an intentional object.
Getting the shape right
I started with some simple sketches to work out the proportions.
How large did the wooden body actually need to be? How much material should surround the switch? How rounded should the edges feel? How should it sit in the palm?
I wanted it to feel substantial without becoming bulky, and small enough to disappear comfortably into your hand.
From those sketches, I had an initial prototype made and started refining the proportions.
Small changes made a surprisingly big difference.
A few millimetres removed from one edge could make the object feel significantly more comfortable. Changing a radius affected how naturally your fingers wrapped around the body. The positioning of the toggle changed how easily your thumb could find it without looking.
Once I was happy enough with the design, I started giving prototypes to other people.
The feedback suggested I was onto something.
So I decided to make ten.
The first ten Focus Switches
The first proper batch was handmade for me by a local carpenter.
Just ten units.
At that stage I didn't know whether anyone would actually buy them. I had designed something that I liked using, but there is always a considerable difference between making something for yourself and asking another person to spend their money on it.
That first batch was really an experiment.
Could I turn this idea into a real physical product? Could I manufacture it consistently? Could I package it? Could I put it online and persuade someone I'd never met that this strange little block of walnut with a switch in it was worth owning?
Those first Focus Switches sold out.
So I made another batch.
Batch 2 Focus Switches in producton. The CNC machine tool can be seen the background.
Making batch two better
Batch two gave me an opportunity to refine the product rather than simply repeat it.
One of the biggest changes was the manufacturing process.
The wooden bodies in the first batch had been shaped by hand, which gave each one plenty of character but inevitably created small differences between units.
For the second batch, I introduced CNC machining to create the basic wooden form.
That allowed the shape to become more precise and consistent. The edges became straighter, the proportions more controlled and the overall object slightly more angular and intentional.
It still retained everything I liked about walnut. Every piece had its own grain, colour and natural variation. But the underlying geometry became consistent.
Natural material, precise manufacturing.
That combination has since become an important part of how I think about Focus Lab products.
The latest and refined version of Focus Switch
Adding the Focus Lab mark
I also added the Focus Lab logo to the wooden body.
Initially, this was simply about branding the product, but it ended up doing something more interesting.
The logo gave the object a subtle directionality. Suddenly there was a clear front.
More unexpectedly, the engraving itself became another tactile element.
Because the logo is carved into the walnut rather than printed onto the surface, it creates a shallow recess beneath your thumb. The combination of curves, edges and negative space gives your fingers another little texture to explore while you're holding it.
It's a tiny detail, but I like details like that.
Particularly on an object designed to be touched.
A small object that taught me a lot
Focus Switch wasn't conceived as a standalone product.
It emerged from the development of something much bigger.
But over time it has become a pretty good expression of what I want Focus Lab to be.
It's simple.
It's analogue.
It's tactile.
It combines the warmth and imperfection of wood with the precision of metal.
There's a little mid-century influence in its proportions and materials, and there's nothing on it that doesn't really need to be there.
It is simultaneously a fidget, a tool, a small piece of industrial design and a slightly unusual but satisfying object to have sitting on your desk.
And it fits in your pocket.
Starting small
Focus Switch is the first physical product I've designed and brought to market myself.
That means it has taught me far more than simply how to design a fidget.
I've learned about prototyping, tolerances, CNC machining, sourcing components, working with natural materials, packaging, pricing, ecommerce, fulfilment and all the other slightly less glamorous things involved in turning a sketch into something another person can actually hold.
But perhaps the most useful lesson has been much simpler.
Big ideas don't always need to arrive fully formed.
Focus Deck felt like a big project. It still does. There are multiple mechanisms, materials, manufacturing processes and design problems that need solving before it becomes the product I want it to be.
Focus Switch allowed me to take one tiny piece of that bigger idea and make it real.
One mechanism.
One piece of walnut.
One simple interaction.
And from that, an entirely new product appeared.
There's something about that which feels appropriate for Focus Lab.
A brand that is partly about slowing things down, appreciating small interactions and paying more attention to the physical things around us began with something incredibly simple.
A block of wood and a switch.
Sometimes that's enough to start.
