User empathy
My first car was a Volkswagon bug.
It was every bit as
sparse as you’ve heard… just enough to get by and still be called a
“car”, instead of a “complicated go cart.”
There was an AM-only radio, and no tape player. There was one dial, way before one dial dashboards were cool. But there was a separate lever as a turning indicator, almost a luxury, all things considered. I bet someone had to fight for that, when sticking your arm out the window and signaling manually would have done just as well.
A curious thing with the turning indicator was the arrow that flashed, when you pulled down for left or pushed up for right. Most cars you can think of have separate lights for the different directions. Not the bug. There was one light in the middle of the one dial, with arrow points pointing off in both directions.
Anyway, more times than I can count, when I was tooling around Joliet in December as a high school junior, frantically rubbing the windshield with a glove because the car had no window defroster, someone would ask me the same question. I’d signal for a turn, and my one light would blink. Someone in the back or sitting next to me would invariably notice the one blinking light, with the two arrows pointing in opposite directions, and ask me very seriously…
“Dude, how do you know which way you’re turning?”
The first time I heard this question, I had to think of the words that might form the answer.
How do I know which way I’m turning?
?
After a moment, “well, I’m the driver,” I’d answer, just as seriously. “It’s my job to know.”
And it was. Clearly there was a disconnect between the person who asked, and the interface of the dashboard, specifically that light. The one blinking light wasn’t communicating a specific direction, and that gave rise to the question, and the concern. Which way am I turning?
The thing is, the blinking lights on your dashboard don’t really indicate to the driver which way you’re turning; they just tell you that you have signaled a turn, that your lights are probably flashing on the outside of your car. As the driver, in almost any circumstance you certainly know which way you’re turning. There are rare exceptions, of course, but almost always, you know.
So, who cares?
Sometimes
we have that same disconnect, as IAs, or as designers of an experience.
Sometimes we too easily adopt the mindset of the passenger, the person
looking over the driver’s shoulder. We see the information, experience
the flow as an observer, and make judgments of experience design based
on this point of view. Sometimes this works out fine.
Sometimes, there’s a disconnect.
“Dude, how do you know which way you’re turning?”
We make a lot of decisions on how an interface here should look, what information is necessary. “We should really show the price there,” you might say. “How will the customer know what’s in their cart?”
Because they’re the driver. It’s their job to know. They’ve already considered each item they’ve added to the cart. Once off the product page, they’ve considered the price of a product. These are just a couple examples; there are many others, certainly.
Certainly there are cases where the user forgets… but I think that’s probably the exception, than the rule. I think we could do a better job of getting into the driver’s head, instead of being a passenger, as it were.
We should design the experience as if we were the driver, not a passenger watching the driver.
What do you think?