In Medtech, we like to believe that good technology wins. If a device is safe, fast, and effective, adoption of that product should be inevitable. The concept is that you clear the regulatory hurdles, publish strong data, get FDA clearance and the market will follow, but anyone who has spent time inside hospitals understands the truth: some of the most technically impressive devices never make it past the pilot program. They’re not failing because they’re unsafe or ineffective. They fail quietly, sitting in storage rooms or collecting dust on a shelf, and more often than not, the reason for failure has nothing to do with the FDA, reimbursement, or clinical outcomes. Its workflow.
Engineering teams are trained to optimize performance; they improve accuracy, reduce size, add features, and automate steps. On paper, the product is objectively better than what came before, but healthcare environments aren’t optimized systems; They’re messy, human, and time-starved.
A nurse juggling five patients doesn’t care that a device is 12% more precise if it takes two extra minutes to set up, a surgeon won’t switch tools mid-procedure if it disrupts their rhythm, and a tech won’t champion something that adds one more cleaning step at the end of a 12-hour shift. In these settings, convenience often beats innovation.
If something feels harder, even slightly, people are far more likely to revert to whats familiar.
What teams often miss is that a device doesn’t have one single user; it has an ecosystem. The person who benefits clinically is rarely the only person responsible for using it. Someone is required to retrieve it, set it up, document it, sterilize it, and troubleshoot it. Each of these steps belongs to a different group with different priorities, and if any of those stakeholders feel that the device is slowing them down or increasing risk, resistance begins to build.
Not a lout resistance, but the kind were staff “forgets” to grab it or the old tool is just easier.
That’s workflow politics.
Hospitals don’t choose to adopt devices based on how impressive they are; they adopt due to fit. Oftentimes, the most successful products aren’t the flashiest, but the ones that don’t require retraining, don’t change documentation, and limit extra steps. The kinds of devices that slide into the existing process that staff barely notice the change.
In many cases, the winning design isn’t the one that adds capability, it’s the one that removes friction.
Less setup, with fewer handoffs, and one less thing to think about.
In a clinical environment, invisible is powerful.
FDA clearance gets you to market. It does not get you adoption.
If teams want real uptake, workflow mapping should matter just as much as verification testing. Shadow nurses. Watch turnover between cases. Sit in sterile processing. Understand who touches the device before and after the procedure.
Because the question isn’t “Is this better?” It’s “Does this make anyone’s day harder?”
If the answer is yes, adoption will stall, no matter how brilliant the technology is. The devices that win aren’t always the most advanced.
They’re the ones that feel effortless.
If you have questions about the development process, feel free to reach out for help. We do hundreds of free consults every year to help guide innovators along their path of device development.