Chris Blanc: Play and Projects: Blog

SOMETIMES there is a huge disconnect between the people who make a product and the people who use it. The creator of a Web site may assume too much knowledge on the part of users, leading to confusion. Software designers may not anticipate user behavior that can unintentionally destroy an entire database. Manufacturers can make equipment that inadvertently increases the likelihood of repetitive stress injuries.

Enter the usability professional, whose work has recently developed into a solid career track, driven mostly by advancements in technology. ^{^}

Tom Wolfe believes that the moral quest in humanity is brought on by adaptation to civilization, and that our real pursuit is to find a balance between individual and collective needs. Having seen the pendulum swing both ways in my lifetime, I’m sceptical of both extremes, as I can see how totalitarianism can occur through the acts of individuals as much as it can occur through the acts of one very selfish one (Stalin, I’m calling you out, dawg).

I’m also very much enamored of Robert A. Heinlein’s in/famous quote that “specialization is for insects,” which was quoted in full in an article on this site a few days ago. He’s correct in that the more we specialize, the less general knowledge and broad knowledge we have, so while we have depth of knowledge in specific areas, we lack depth of knowledge about life itself. In my view, this additional dimension is what makes us human.

For that reason, I’m leery of cheering about the introduction of Interaction Design (formerly “Interface Design”) as a profession, because while I’m certain it’s a skill I’m not certain that skill warrants being a job category, in part because there’s not enough work for it which encourages the production of non-necessary “work” that is de facto bureaucracy. I feel the same way about technical writing in many situations: it should be something a project manager does, or a program lead does, but I’m not sure a separate role is always useful.

But that is not to at all say that interaction design isn’t a skill, like fine cooking or fine writing, which can be taught but can’t be taught to everyone. You need to have some abilities first that allow you to think about design and interface in ways that reflect what your users are trying to accomplish. It’s almost as inborn as having perfect pitch. I can teach people with related skills how to think about interaction design, but if they lack the abilities for those related skills, I can teach it at them but not to them. No receptors.

What’s most important about interaction design, in this ten-year bubble before it gets bumped back down to being a skill they teach certain graphic designers and writers and psychology students, is that it’s an important part of any product. In fact, it’s safe to say that most products are 50% interface. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen people using old software, simpler physical tools, or extended but familiar procedures because the new ones didn’t make sense or weren’t intuitive. Interface matters. As much as getting the technical details right.

And while I’m not foolish enough to buy a Macintosh, knowing from 25 year experience how duplicitous, neurotic and manipulative Apple, Inc. can be, I think we should all learn from the Macintosh, and from the conflict between Google and Yahoo in which the former emerged the winner mainly because it was easier to use. Interface matters. It’s one of those things, like having someone write quality documentation, that is forgotten because it doesn’t build bottom line.

But it builds brand identity. People associate Macintoshes with ease of use and so they thoughtlessly recommend them to their computer-challenged friends. People associate Mercedes with quality. They associate Massimo with cool but cheap outerwear. Not being a shopper, I’m stretched for brand examples here. You see the point, however. If a user takes home a piece of technology, and the manual’s good and makes sense, and the interface is well-designed, they associate not only higher satisfaction with the product, but greater ease, meaning more intuitive use with fewer ugly surprises.

In a life where everyone is 120% time-committed each week, giving people peace of mind which they come to expect through something called “trust,” is not only a gift, but also a deliverance. They will come back, these customers. They feel treated right and they now have a little equals sign in their brain that says your brand = good experience. So they’ll buy again, when the need comes. Isn’t that a nicer business model that trying to use high-powered advertising to convince stupid people to buy products they don’t need?