What is DRA2020?
Dave's Redistricting App (DRA2020) is one of the most significant civic technology tools in the United States. Built and maintained by a team of former Microsoft volunteers, it gives anyone — citizen, activist, journalist, or state commission — the ability to draw, edit, and analyse US congressional and state legislative district maps, for free, for all 50 states. It's used by FiveThirtyEight for their Atlas of Redistricting, by state governments in their official redistricting cycles, and by community advocates fighting gerrymandering in their districts.
The product's power is its depth: users can draw boundaries at census block level, layer in demographic and election data, and measure their maps against metrics like proportionality, competitiveness, minority representation, compactness, and county splitting. But that depth was also its design problem — the complexity of the tool was a barrier to the very citizens it was built to empower.
I was engaged as lead designer on a freelance/contract gig in 2025 to redesign DRA2020 from the ground up: new user research, new information architecture, a rethought map interface, and a rebuilt analytics experience. The project is currently in development.
A tool that's powerful for experts and confusing for everyone else.
DRA2020's core tension is the same tension that exists in most complex data tools: the product is most needed by non-experts, but its current design assumes expert users. A concerned citizen who wants to submit a redistricting proposal to their state commission faces the same interface as a political scientist who uses it daily. For the citizen, it fails. For the expert, it's merely tolerable.
My user research uncovered three distinct user profiles operating simultaneously in the same interface — each with different goals, different levels of data literacy, and different expectations of what "success" looks like. Designing for all three without building three separate products was the central design problem of this project.
Map interface cognitive overload
The drawing interface presented all tools and data layers simultaneously. New users faced a wall of controls with no clear starting point, no guided flow, and no indication of what they needed to do first versus what was optional.
Analytics disconnected from action
The analysis panel showed metrics — proportionality, compactness, competitiveness — but didn't tell users what those numbers meant or what to do about them. Data was present; insight was absent. Metrics without meaning aren't helpful.
No user model — three audiences, one interface
First-time citizens, experienced redistricting advocates, and professional analysts all used the same flow with the same defaults. The experience was calibrated for nobody, frustrating for most, and empowering for almost no one new.
Navigation and orientation lost at scale
Working with state-level geography means zoom levels vary enormously. Users consistently lost their place — both in the literal map, and in their overall progress through the task of building a complete district plan.
Starting with people, not screens.
The first thing I did was resist the temptation to open Figma. Redesigning a civic technology tool without deeply understanding its users would be design malpractice. I conducted structured research to map who was actually using DRA2020, why, and where the existing product was letting them down.
Audience segmentation — three distinct user types
I identified three primary user personas: Civic Newcomers (first-time users prompted by a redistricting cycle in their state — high motivation, low expertise), Advocacy Regulars (activists and organisers who use the tool for public submissions — moderate expertise, specific workflows), and Power Analysts (political scientists, journalists, commission staff — high expertise, need full data access). Each had entirely different mental models of the task.
Task analysis — what users are actually trying to accomplish
I mapped the core task flows for each user type: drawing a new map from scratch, modifying an official map, running analysis on an existing plan, and sharing or submitting a completed map. Each task flow exposed specific drop-off points and confusion states in the current product — particularly around the transition from drawing to analysing, and from analysis to submission.
Competitive benchmarking — GIS tools and civic platforms
I audited a range of complex data tools and GIS interfaces — from professional redistricting software to consumer mapping tools — mapping where they succeeded at making geographic complexity accessible. The research sharpened my understanding of the principles that separate a tool that empowers from one that intimidates: progressive disclosure, contextual help, separation of drawing and analysis modes, and persistent orientation cues.
What I inherited. What I redesigned.
The best way to understand the design decisions in this project is to see the before and after directly. What follows are the actual old screens alongside the redesigned versions — and the specific thinking behind every change.
Old homepage — dense, no clear hierarchy
Redesigned dashboard — clean nav, map front and centre
Old map interface — all panels open simultaneously
Current build — my redesigned map layout
Old Analyze view — radar chart, isolated from context
Redesigned Analyze — structured, layered, actionable
A designer. A US democracy tool. The unexpected fit.
When I first took on this project, the obvious question was: why would someone be the right designer for a US redistricting tool? The answer is the same reason my political science degree is more useful than it sounds — I understand how political systems shape the lives of people who have no direct power over them. That's not an abstract concept for me. It's the context I grew up in.
Redistricting is one of the most consequential and least visible forms of political power in the United States. The lines drawn on district maps determine who gets represented, whose voice gets diluted, and which communities get politically split in ways that prevent them from electing anyone who looks like them or shares their concerns. Designing the tool that empowers citizens to see and challenge those lines isn't just a design challenge — it's a civic responsibility.
My background in geopolitics and political science didn't just give me domain empathy — it gave me a framework for understanding who the product is actually for. The most important users of DRA2020 aren't the political scientists. They're the citizens in communities who've been gerrymandered for decades and finally have a tool that lets them draw what fair looks like and show it to their commission. Everything I designed was built to serve that user first.
Domain knowledge as a design skill
My political science background gave me immediate fluency with redistricting concepts — proportionality, compactness, communities of interest. I could ask better research questions and design better solutions because I understood the domain, not just the interface.
Outside perspective as a feature
Coming from outside the US political system gave me a genuinely fresh lens on the product. I approached DRA2020 the way a first-time user would — which turned out to be exactly the perspective the redesign needed most.
Complex GIS UI for non-experts
This project sharpened my ability to make specialist-grade interfaces accessible without dumbing them down — a skill that transfers to any domain where expert tools need to serve non-expert users.
Lead design at full scope
Research, IA, wireframes, map interface, analysis interface, component design — all mine. A project that tested and proved my capacity for end-to-end design leadership on a technically complex, high-stakes product.