Invisible Interfaces

Don Norman talked about the "Invisible Interface" and the "Invisible Computer" as one that the user expresses no thought effort on how to do the task, only on the task to be done.

In many interfaces, we learn what to do so that we don't have to think about how to do it. For example, driving a car. When we are first learning, it seems overwhelming: you have to look at the road, but you have to also watch your speed, but you should constantly check your mirrors, but pay attention to which foot is where, and keep both hands on the wheel, but be ready to shift at any moment. And the feet! By the time we learn, we don't think about all the steps necessary. We think about where we want to go, and we go. The interface with the car has become invisible.

There are common designs for many things in our lives. A toilet handle is, well, a handle. An HTML link is blue and has an underline. A submit button looks remarkably "button-y". A car's steering wheel is round and has little ridges on the back where our fingers fit. The important thing to remember is that these designs didn't start out that way. In any product, industry, and technology, there is a period where competing designs are tested and one dominant design wins out. Here is an example of a steering handle, a different design to a wheel.

When designers (or more usually, engineers or marketers) tinker with an existing design, alter it in some way, the design is no longer invisible. We have to think about how to do the task again. Try driving a car in a country that drives on the opposite side of the road from what you are used to. All of a sudden, you don't just point the car and go. Everything is on the "wrong" side, from the door locks to the gas pedal, never mind that ONCOMING BUS!

When we encounter a suddenly visible interface, it is jarring, disconcerting, and can prompt the phrase, "what were they thinking?" An example of this was a local watering hole who thought it would be cute to rename the labels on the bathrooms. Every bathroom was unisex, so it didn't matter what one was chosen.

They could have done a simple sign, like this, or this, or even a uniform look like this. But they didn't. Somebody chose the following:

• Pointers
• Setters
• Democrats
• Republicans

Suddenly, the interface is visible. Which one do you choose? You were focused on the task, whichever one you were going to do, and now you have to think. What if you choose incorrectly?

It is very frustrating to suddenly be confronted with something that is no longer invisible.

Of course, I could be a bathroom-phobe. What do you think?

Curious Perversions in Form Design

"The current estimated age of the universe is only in the tens of the billions," writes Bob S, "so twelve digits or so for the 'year you were born' field should have been adequate to accommodate the return of the Old Ones, should they be interested in filling out readership surveys. iPerceptions wanted to play it a little safer, though."






http://thedailywtf.com/Articles/The-Littering-ATM.aspx


Umm... I agree. But what do you think?

One Simple Thing

The only way to really beat the system at a casino is to get "comps" for as many things as possible, while gambling as little as possible. Most books you could read send this same message. All casino games are "negative expectation" games. That is, the statistics are engineering in the house's favor. The best you can do is minimize your losses and enjoy the perks.

The only way to get "comps" at the table games is to ask for them. Table games are Poker, BlackJack, and Roulette. (Yes, I know there are variations of these, like "Spanish 21" or "Carribean Stud", but those are even more negative expectation, and I never play them). These days, every casino has a "frequent flyer" card where they can swipe you into the system, keep track of how much you play, and award you "comps" based on how much you win (or really, lose).

So, there I was in Atlantic City, asking to be comped a meal. There was a pit boss there, using the compter. First they granted me the comp for breakfast at the buffet. Then it turns out there is no buffet breakfast on Sunday. So, they needed to issue me a refund/cancellation and then issue me a new comp based on the restaurant that was open.

It took 20 minutes.

It turns out that the pit boss was from a Blackjack pit, and they use a different computer system for the Poker pit. He kept trying to enter his identification to issue the refund, and it was refusing. Finally, he came up with the idea of putting his initials instead of his employee number in the field. It took, and they were able to issue me the comp.

Some key questions came up:
1) what error message was he getting, and why wasn't it giving him enough information to figure out what needed to be resolved?
2) what was the label on the field that could take his employee id or his initials, and he couldn't tell the difference?
3) Why didn't the comp system know that the buffet was closed?
4) WHY HAVE DIFFERENT COMP SYSTEMS 150 FEET APART?

Simple, simple usability issues that caused both the pit boss and I frustration and led the casino to lose money. Why? Because they know how much money they make from me when I gamble for 20 minutes. That 20 minutes standing there was lost revenue.

But, I'm just frustrated with the experience. What do you think?

Montgomery Scott School of Project Management

I read about this somewhere, and a typical google search turned up only vague references to it. So, here it is, for others to link to.

The Montgomery Scott School of Project Management
First, the background...
For those of you who don't know, Star Trek started as a television show in the late 1960's and became a cultural phenomenon. It spawned 5 spin-off series and about a dozen movies. The "original series" takes place on the Starship Enterprise, and Montgomery Scott (aka "Scotty") was the chief engineer on the ship.

It seemed like each week, there was some crisis and a conversation something like the following would occur:

Captain: Scotty! We need the warp drives back on line! We need to escape!
Scotty: I canna do it, Cap'n. The drives are shot. They canna be fixed.
Captain: Scotty! If you don't do it, the Caldrassian Empire will be eliminated!
Scotty: I'll see what I can do, but it'll be several hours at least.
Captain: Well, keep me updated! We need to have that power!

Scotty: Cap'n, the warp drives are back online.
Captain: Bless you, Scotty! Navigator, Full Warp Speed!

This particular example was repeated over and over, and even became somewhat of a joke. However, from this exchange, we can infer the guiding principles of the Montgomery Scott School of Project Management:

1. When the client asks for a new project, even when the specs are clear, deny the possibility of the task being able to be accomplished. The odds of completion are so astronomical as to defy description.
2. If pressed, multiply by 4 (or 8) the amount of time you think it might take.
3. When it only takes you twice as much time as you originally estimate, you will come out ahead by a factor of two (or four).

I have only used this once or twice, and believe me, it works.

Quote from Montgomery Scott, later in his career:

How are you going to get a reputation as a miracle worker if you tell the Captain the actual amount of time it will take?!?!

Hopefully, this will rise in the google rankings, so others can benefit.