AI-Driven Underwriting Assistant
Underwriters were doing fifteen lookups by hand before they could think
- Insurtech / AI
- Lead Product Designer
- Role
- Lead Product Designer
- Year
- 2019-2020
- Category
- Insurtech / AI
The findings are the argument. Everything below them is evidence.
Insurers spend heavily on getting risk assessment right, and at the time there was nothing on the market that pulled the external data together, read the images and text inside a submission, and came back with a risk probability an underwriter could actually interrogate. So we built one.
- customer satisfaction
80%
customer satisfaction
- less time, simple submissions
45%
less time, simple submissions
- risk accuracy
22%
risk accuracy
Underwriters were doing fifteen lookups by hand before they could think
The design problem
What made it hard.
Every submission started with the same half hour of clicking. Property databases, claims history, credit reports, regulatory filings, geospatial maps — all checked by hand, all retyped, and only then could anyone start thinking about the risk. The allocation was the part that bothered me. Simple applications were 80% of the volume and ate 60% of the available time. The complex, high-value deals got whatever was left. > The job was never to build an AI underwriter. It was to build an AI research assistant.
The approach
What I did about it.
Aggregate first, then score. One submission ID fires 15+ lookups in parallel — property, claims, financial, regulatory, geospatial — and comes back as the red/yellow/green signal underwriters already think in. Anyone who wants the underlying data is one click from it. Show the weights, not just the score. Early testing killed the clean version. Nobody trusted a risk score of 7.2 they couldn't take apart, and being right about it didn't help. So every score carries its contributing factors and their weights, links back to source, and can be overridden — and the override is recorded rather than swallowed. Configurable per line of business. Property cares about flood zones. Workers comp cares about safety records. One fixed model would have meant picking a line and abandoning the others, so each configures its own sources, weights and alert thresholds. That decision bought a lot of backend complexity and it is the only reason the same platform sold into more than one line. Let the override teach it. When an underwriter disagreed and said why, that went back into the model rather than into a log nobody reads. It also gave us the only honest read on how good the extraction actually was.
The findings
The model working was the easy half
What I found
It identified risk factors correctly from early on. That bought nothing until people could see the weights behind a score and argue with them. Everything that moved adoption was interface work, not model work.
Nobody asked for the AI to decide
What I found
Every underwriter I spoke to wanted the research done and the call left with them. Designing toward autonomy would have been building something they'd have routed around.
How it actually went, in order.
Loops, not phases. The order is the one it happened in, not the one it tidies into.
- What sitting with underwriters actually turned up
The lookups were the obvious problem and the least interesting one. Underwriters moved between property databases, claims history, credit reports, regulatory filings and geospatial maps, and every hop meant a context switch and a retype.
The allocation underneath it was the real finding. Simple applications were 80% of the volume and took 60% of the time. Complex applications were 20% of the volume and 80% of the revenue, and got what was left over.
Skepticism about black-box scoring came up in almost every conversation, and it was specific rather than general — people wanted the sources, the method, and a way to disagree on the record. Nobody I spoke to wanted the AI making the call. They wanted it to do the reading.
- How the platform was put together
Data aggregation came first: one submission ID, 15+ third-party lookups fired in parallel, property through geospatial.
On top of that, a visual risk signal — red, yellow, green — chosen because it was already the vocabulary on the floor rather than because it tested well. Underneath it, the full breakdown with sources for anyone who wanted to argue with the signal.
The layer people asked for last and used most was the pattern work: which risk factors actually correlate with claims, which submissions convert. That only becomes useful once somebody trusts the first two layers, which is why it shipped in that order rather than first.
- Nobody trusted a 7.2
Usability testing went badly in a useful way. The model was identifying risk factors correctly and it did not matter — a score of 7.2 with nothing behind it read as a guess with a decimal point.
So the score got taken apart on screen. Prior claims history weighted 40%, property age 25%, geographic risk 20%, and so on down. Every data point links back to where it came from. Underwriters can adjust the weights or drop a factor entirely when they know something the model doesn't.
Adoption moved once people could see the weights. The overrides kept coming, which was the point — they stopped being complaints and started being corrections that went back into the model.
- One platform, or one per line of business
Property cares about flood zones. Liability cares about claims history. Workers comp cares about industry classification and safety records. A single fixed risk model would have meant picking one line and telling the others to wait.
So each line configures its own: which sources to query, how to weight them, what trips an alert, which indicators show on the surface view.
That is a considerably harder thing to build and it was a commercial decision more than a design one. It is also the reason the same platform could be sold into several lines instead of one.
- Two things I took away
- Configurability is the price of entry in B2B. Every customer wanted the same core product set up differently. Building for the first one would not have scaled to the second. - In a data-dense tool, the visual work is load-bearing. Hierarchy, color coding and spacing were what made a screen of aggregated risk data readable at all. That is not decoration, and it was the part that took longest to get right.
- What I'd change
I validated initial usability and then stopped. What I would want now is three to six months of watching daily use: whether people drifted into accepting recommendations without checking, and what workflows they invented that nobody designed for. Both of those only show up over time, and neither was instrumented.
What I'd flag if this were someone else's project.
What I'd do differently.
Two things I'd move earlier. Customers should have been in the design conversation sooner — their configuration needs didn't surface until feedback came back late, and they reshaped the architecture. And I'd have argued for concrete business metrics at the start: claims ratio, time-to-decision, bind conversion. Satisfaction is what you track when nobody agreed on what success meant, and it's why the numbers above are the client's rather than mine.
How much the metrics are worth.
These came out of the engagement, which ran through 2020. I designed the product and did not run the measurement, so they are the program's figures rather than mine, and I can't reproduce them for you. The Reptor and Deskcrit studies carry no outcome numbers at all, for the same reason.