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CHAPTER ONE

THE PSYCHOPATHOLOGY

OF EVERYDAY

THINGS

If I were placed in the cockpit of a modern jet airliner, my inability to perform well would neither surprise nor bother me. But why should I have trouble with doors and light switches, water faucets and stoves? "Doors?" I

can hear the reader saying. "You have trouble opening doors?" Yes. I push doors that are meant to be pulled, pull doors that should be pushed, and walk into doors that neither pull nor push, but slide. Moreover, I see others having the same troubles-unnecessary troubles. My problems with doors have become so well known that confusing doors are often called "Norman doors. " Imagine becoming famous for doors that don't work right. I'm pretty sure that's not what my parents planned for me. (Put "Norman doors" into your favorite search engine-be sure to include the quote marks: it makes for fascinating reading.)

How can such a simple thing as a door be so confusing? A door would seem to be about as simple a device as possible. There is not much you can do to a door: you can open it or shut it. Suppose you are in an office building, walking down a corridor. You come to a door. How does it open? Should you push or pull, on the left or the right? Maybe the door slides. If so, in which direction? I have seen doors that slide to the left, to the right, and even up into the ceiling.

BASIC BOOKS A Member of the Perseus Books Group

New York

THE

DESIGN

OF EVERYDAY

THINGS

REVISED AND EXPANDED EDITION

Don Norman

FIGURE 1.1. Coffeepot for Masochists. The French ar tist Jacques Carelman in his series of books Catalogue d'objets introuvables (Catalog of un findable objects) provides delightful examples of everyday things that are deliberately unwork­ able, outrageous, or otherwise ill-formed. One of my favorite items is what he calls "coffeepot for masochists." The photograph shows a copy given to me by collegues at the University of California, San Diego. It is one of my treasured art objects. (Photograph by Aymin Shamma for the author.)

The design of the door should indicate how to work it without any

need for signs, certainly without any need for trial and error.

A friend told me of the time he got trapped in the doorway of a

post office in a European city. The entrance was an imposing row

of six glass swinging doors, followed immediately by a second,

identical row. That's a standard design: it helps reduce the airflow

and thus maintain the indoor temperature of the building. There

was no visible hardware: obviously the doors could swing in ei­

ther direction: all a person had to do was push the side of the door

and enter.

My friend pushed on one of the outer doors. It swung inward,

and he entered the building. Then, before he could get to the next

row of doors, he was distracted and turned around for an instant.

He didn't realize it at the time, but he had moved slightly to the

right. So when he came to the next door and pushed it, nothing

happened. "Hmm," he thought, "must be locked." So he pushed

the side of the adjacent door. Nothing. Puzzled, my friend decided

to go outside again. He turned around and pushed against the

side of a door. Nothing. He pushed the adjacent door. Nothing.

The door he had just entered no longer worked. He turned around

once more and tried the inside doors again. Nothing. Concern,

then mild panic. He was trapped! Just then, a group of people on

the other side of the entranceway (to my friend's right) passed eas­

ily through both sets of doors. My friend hurried over to follow

their path.

2 The Design of Everyday Things

How could such a thing happen? A swinging door has two sides.

One contains the supporting pillar and the hinge, the other is un­

supported. To open the door, you must push or pull on the unsup­ ported edge. If you push on the hinge side, nothing happens. In

my friend's case, he was in a building where the designer aimed

for beauty, not utility. No distracting lines, no visible pillars, no vis­

ible hinges. So how can the ordinary user know which side to push

on? While distracted, my friend had moved toward the (invisible)

supporting pillar, so he was pushing the doors on the hinged side.

No wonder nothing happened. Attractive doors. Stylish. Probably

won a design prize.

Two of the most important characteristics of good design are dis­

coverability and understanding. Discoverability: Is it possible to even

figure out what actions are possible and where and how to per­

form them? Understanding: What does it all mean? How is the

product supposed to be used? What do all the different controls

and settings mean?

The doors in the story illustrate what happens when discoverabil­

ity fails. Whether the device is a door or a stove, a mobile phone

or a nuclear power plant, the relevant components must be visible,

and they must communicate the correct message: What actions

are possible? Where and how should they be done? With doors

that push, the designer must provide signals that naturally indi­

cate where to push. These need not destroy the aesthetics. Put a

vertical plate on the side to be pushed. Or make the supporting

pillars visible. The vertical plate and supporting pillars are natural

signals, naturally interpreted, making it easy to know just what to

do: no labels needed.

With complex devices, discoverability and understanding re­

quire the aid of manuals or personal instruction. We accept this

if the device is indeed complex, but it should be unnecessary for

simple things. Many products defy understanding simply because

they have too many functions and controls. I don't think that sim­

ple home appliances-stoves, washing machines, audio and tele­

vision sets-should look like Hollywood's idea of a spaceship

control room. They already do, much to our consternation. Faced

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 3

with a bewildering array of controls and displays, we simply mem­ orize one or two fixed settings to approximate what is desired.

In England I visited a home with a fancy new Italian washer­ dryer combination, with super-duper multisymbol controls, all to do everything anyone could imagine doing with the washing and drying of clothes. The husband (an engineering psychologist) said he refused to go near it. The wife (a physician) said she had simply memorized one setting and tried to ignore the rest. I asked to see the manual: it was just as confusing as the device. The whole pur­ pose of the design is lost.

The Complexity of Modern Devices

All artificial things are designed. Whether it is the layout of fur­ niture in a room, the paths through a garden or forest, or the in­ tricacies of an electronic device, some person or group of people had to decide upon the layout, operation, and mechanisms . Not all designed things involve physical structures. Services, lectures, rules and procedures, and the organizational structures of busi­ nesses and governments do not have physical mechanisms, but their rules of operation have to be designed, sometimes informally, sometimes precisely recorded and specified.

But even though people have designed things since prehistoric times, the field of design is relatively new, divided into many areas of specialty. Because everything is designed, the number of areas is enormous, ranging from clothes and furniture to complex control rooms and bridges. This book covers everyday things, focusing on the interplay between technology and people to ensure that the products actually fulfill human needs while being understand­ able and usable. In the best of cases, the products should also be delightful and enjoyable, which means that not only must the re­ quirements of engineering, manufacturing, and ergonomics be sat­ isfied, but attention must be paid to the entire experience, which means the aesthetics of form and the quality of interaction. The major areas of design relevant to this book are industrial design, interaction design, and experience design. None of the fields is well defined, but the focus of the efforts does vary, with industrial

4 The Design of Everyday Things

designers emphasizing form and material, interactive designers emphasizing understandability and usability, and experience de­ signers emphasizing the emotional impact. Thus:

Industrial design: The professional service of creating and developing concepts and specifications that optimize the function, value, and appearance of products and systems for the mutual benefit of both user and manufacturer (from the Industrial Design Society of America's website).

Interaction design: The focus is upon how people interact with tech­ nology. The goal is to enhance people's understanding of what can be done, what is happening, and what has just occurred. Interaction de­ sign draws upon principles of psychology, design, art, and emotion to ensure a positive, enjoyable experience.

Experience design: The practice of designing products, processes, ser­ vices, events, and environments with a focus placed on the quality and enjoyment of the total experience.

Design is concerned with how things work, how they are con­ trolled, and the nature of the interaction between people and technology. When done well, the results are brilliant, pleasurable products. When done badly, the products are unusable, leading to great frustration and irritation. Or they might be usable, but force us to behave the way the product wishes rather than as we wish.

Machines, after all, are conceived, designed, and constructed by people. By human standards, machines are pretty limited. They do not maintain the same kind of rich history of experiences that people have in common with one another, experiences that enable us to interact with others because of this shared understanding. Instead, machines usually follow rather simple, rigid rules of be­ havior. If we get the rules wrong even slightly, the machine does what it is told, no matter how insensible and illogical. People are imaginative and creative, filled with common sense; that is, a lot of valuable knowledge built up over years of experience. But instead of capitalizing on these strengths, machines require us to be precise and accurate, things we are not very good at. Machines have no

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 5

leeway or common sense. Moreover, many of the rules followed

by a machine are known only by the machine and its designers.

When people fail to follow these bizarre, secret rules, and the

machine does the wrong thing, its operators are blamed for not

understanding the machine, for not following its rigid specifica­

tions. With everyday objects, the result is frustration. With complex

devices and commercial and industrial processes, the resulting

difficulties can lead to accidents, injuries, and even deaths. It is

time to reverse the situation: to cast the blame upon the machines

and their design. It is the machine and its design that are at fault. It

is the duty of machines and those who design them to understand

people. It is not our duty to understand the arbitrary, meaningless

dictates of machines.

The reasons for the deficiencies in human-machine interaction

are numerous. Some come from the limitations of today's technol­

ogy. Some come from self-imposed restrictions by the designers,

often to hold down cost. But most of the problems come from a

complete lack of understanding of the design principles necessary

for effective human-machine interaction. Why this deficiency? Be­

cause much of the design is done by engineers who are experts

in technology but limited in their understanding of people. "We

are people ourselves," they think, "so we understand people." But

in fact, we humans are amazingly complex. Those who have not

studied human behavior often think it is pretty simple. Engineers,

moreover, make the mistake of thinking that logical explanation is

sufficient: "If only people would read the instructions," they say,

"everything would be all right."

Engineers are trained to think logically. As a result, they come to

believe that all people must think this way, and they design their

machines accordingly. When people have trouble, the engineers

are upset, but often for the wrong reason. "What are these people

doing?" they will wonder. "Why are they doing that?" The prob­

lem with the designs of most engineers is that they are too logical.

We have to accept human behavior the way it is, not the way we

would wish it to be.

6 The Design of Everyday Things

I used to be an engineer, focused upon technical requirements,

quite ignorant of people. Even after I switched into psychology

and cognitive science, I still maintained my engineering emphasis

upon logic and mechanism. It took a long time for me to realize

that my understanding of human behavior was relevant to my in­

terest in the design of technology. As I watched people struggle

with technology, it became clear that the difficulties were caused

by the technology, not the people.

I was called upon to help analyze the American nuclear power

plant accident at Three Mile Island (the island name comes from

the fact that it is located on a river, three miles south of Middle­

town in the state of Pennsylvania). In this incident, a rather simple

mechanical failure was misdiagnosed. This led to several days of

difficulties and confusion, total destruction of the reactor, and a

very close call to a severe radiation release, all of which brought

the American nuclear power industry to a complete halt. The op­

erators were blamed for these failures: "human error" was the im­

mediate analysis. But the committee I was on discovered that the

plant's control rooms were so poorly designed that error was inevi­

table: design was at fault, not the operators. The moral was simple:

we were designing things for people, so we needed to understand

both technology and people. But that's a difficult step for many

engineers: machines are so logical, so orderly. If we didn't have

people, everything would work so much better. Yup, that's how I

used to think.

My work with that committee changed my view of design. To­

day, I realize that design presents a fascinating interplay of tech­

nology and psychology, that the designers must understand both.

Engineers still tend to believe in logic. They often explain to me

in great, logical detail, why their designs are good, powerful, and

wonderful. "Why are people having problems?" they wonder.

"You are being too logical," I say. "You are designing for people the

way you would like them to be, not for the way they really are."

When the engineers object, I ask whether they have ever made

an error, perhaps turning on or off the wrong light, or the wrong

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 7

stove burner. "Oh yes," they say, "but those were errors." That's the point: even experts make errors. So we must design our ma­ chines on the assumption that people will make errors. (Chapter 5 provides a detailed analysis of human error.)

Human-Centered Design

People are frustrated with everyday things. From the ever-increasing complexity of the automobile dashboard, to the increasing auto­ mation in the home with its internal networks, complex music, video, and game systems for entertainment and communication, and the increasing automation in the kitchen, everyday life some­ times seems like a never-ending fight against confusion, continued errors, frustration, and a continual cycle of updating and maintain­ ing our belongings.

In the multiple decades that have elapsed since the first edition of this book was published, design has gotten better. There are now many books and courses on the topic. But even though much has improved, the rapid rate of technology change outpaces the ad­ vances in design. New technologies, new applications, and new methods of interaction are continually arising and evolving. New industries spring up. Each new development seems to repeat the mistakes of the earlier ones; each new field requires time before it, too, adopts the principles of good design. And each new inven­ tion of technology or interaction technique requires experimenta­ tion and study before the principles of good design can be fully integrated into practice. So, yes, things are getting better, but as a result, the challenges are ever present.

The solution is human-centered design (HCD), an approach that puts human needs, capabilities, and behavior first, then de­ signs to accommodate those needs, capabilities, and ways of be­ having. Good design starts with an understanding of psychology and technology. Good design requires good communication, espe­ cially from machine to person, indicating what actions are possible, what is happening, and what is about to happen. Communica­ tion is especially important when things go wrong. It is relatively easy to design things that work smoothly and harmoniously as

8 The Design of Everyday Things

TABLE 1.1. The Role of HCD and Design Specializations

Experience design

Industrial design These are areas of focus

Interaction design

Human-centered design The process that ensures that the

designs match the needs and capa-

bilities of the people for whom they

are intended

long as things go right. But as soon as there is a problem or a mis­ understanding, the problems arise. This is where good design is essential. Designers need to focus their attention on the cases where things go wrong, not just on when things work as planned. Actually, this is where the most satisfaction can arise: when some­ thing goes wrong but the machine highlights the problems, then the person understands the issue, takes the proper actions, and the problem is solved. When this happens smoothly, the collaboration of person and device feels wonderful.

Human-centered design is a design philosophy. It means start­ ing with a good understanding of people and the needs that the desi?1' is intended to meet. This understanding comes about pri­ marily through observation, for people themselves are often un­ aware of their true needs, even unaware of the difficulties they are encountering. Getting the specification of the thing to be defined is one of the most difficult parts of the design, so much so that the �CD pri�ciple is to avoid specifying the problem as long as pos­ sible but mstead to iterate upon repeated approximations. This is done through rapid tests of ideas, and after each test modifying the approach and the problem definition. The results can be products t�at truly meet the needs of people. Doing HCD within the rigid trme, budget, and other constraints of industry can be a challenge: Chapter 6 examines these issues.

Where does HCD fit into the earlier discussion of the several dif­ ferent forms of design, especially the areas called industrial, inter­ action, and experience design? These are all compatible. HCD is a philosophy and a set of procedures, whereas the others are areas of focus (see Table 1.1). The philosophy and procedures of HCD add

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 9

deep consideration and study of human needs to the design pro­

cess, whatever the product or service, whatever the major focus.

Fundamental Principles of Interaction

Great designers produce pleasurable experien ces. Experience: note

the word. Engineers tend not to like it; it is too s ubjective. But when

I ask them about their favorite automobile or test equipment, they

will smile delightedly as they discuss the fit a nd finish, the sensa­

tion of power during acceleration, their ease o f control while shift­

ing or steering, or the wonderful feel of the kn obs and switches on

the instrument. Those are experiences.

Experience is critical, for it determines how fondly people re­

member their interactions. Was the overall exp erience positive, or

was it frustrating and confusing? When our h ome technology be­

haves in an uninterpretable fashion we can beco me confused, frus­

trated, and even angry-all strong negative em otions . When there

is understanding it can lead to a feeling of con trol, of mastery, and

of satisfaction or even pride-all strong posit ive emotions. Cog­

nition and emotion are tightly intertwined, wh ich means that the

designers must design with both in mind.

When we interact with a product, we need to figure out how to

work it. This means discovering what it does, how it works, and

what operations are possible: discoverability. Discoverability re­

sults from appropriate application of five fund amental psycholog­

ical concepts covered in the next few chapters: a ffordances, signifiers,

constraints, mappings, and feedback. But there is a sixth principle,

perhaps most important of all: the conceptual m odel of the system.

It is the conceptual model that provides true u nderstanding. So

I now turn to these fundamental principles, st arting with affor­

dances, signifiers, mappings, and feedback, th en moving to con­

ceptual models. Constraints are covered in Cha pters 3 and 4.

AFFORDANCES

We live in a world filled with objects, many nat ural, the rest artifi­

cial. Every day we encounter thousands of obje cts, many of them

new to us. Many of the new objects are similar to ones we already

10 The Design of Everyday Things

know, but many are unique, yet we manage quite well. How do we

do this? Why is it that when we encounter many unusual natural

objects, we know how to interact with them? Why is this true with

many of the artificial, human-made objects we encounter? The an­

swer lies with a few basic principles. Some of the most important

of these principles come from a consideration of affordances.

The term affordance refers to the relationship between a physi­

cal object and a person (or for that matter, any interacting agent,

whether animal or human, or even machines and robots). An affor­

dance is a relationship between the properties of an object and the

capabilities of the agent that determine just how the object could

possibly be used. A chair affords ("is for") support and, therefore,

affords sitting. Most chairs can also be carried by a single per­

son (they afford lifting), but some can only be lifted by a strong

person or by a team of people. If young or relatively weak people

cannot lift a chair, then for these people, the chair does not have

that affordance, it does not afford lifting.

The presence of an affordance is jointly determined by the qual­

ities of the object and the abilities of the agent that is interacting.

This relational definition of affordance gives considerable difficulty

to many people. We are used to thinking that properties are asso­

ciated with objects. But affordance is not a property. An affordance

is a relationship. Whether an affordance exists depends upon the

properties of both the object and the agent.

Glass affords transparency. At the same time, its physical struc­

ture blocks the passage of most physical objects. As a result, glass

affords seeing through and support, but not the passage of air or

most physical objects (atomic particles can pass through glass).

The blockage of passage can be considered an anti-affordance-the

prevention of interaction. To be effective, affordances and anti­

affordances have to be discoverable-perceivable. This poses a

difficulty with glass. The reason we like glass is its relative invis­

ibility, but this aspect, so useful in the normal window, also hides

its anti-affordance property of blocking passage. As a result, birds

often try to fly through windows. And every year, numerous peo­

ple injure themselves when they walk (or run) through closed glass

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 11

doors or large picture windows. If an affordance or anti-affordance

cannot be perceived, some means of signaling its presence is re­

quired: I call this property a signifier (discussed in the next section).

The notion of affordance and the insights it provides originated

with J. J. Gibson, an eminent psychologist who provided many

advances to our understanding of human perception. I had in­

teracted with him over many years, sometimes in formal confer­

ences and seminars, but most fruitfully over many bottles of beer,

late at night, just talking. We disagreed about almost everything.

I was an engineer who became a cognitive psychologist, trying to

understand how the mind works. He started off as a Gestalt psy­

chologist, but then developed an approach that is today named

after him: Gibsonian psychology, an ecological approach to percep­

tion. He argued that the world contained the clues and that people

simply picked them up through "direct perception." I argued that

nothing could be direct: the brain had to process the information

arriving at the sense organs to put together a coherent interpreta­

tion. "Nonsense," he loudly proclaimed; "it requires no interpreta­

tion: it is directly perceived." And then he would put his hand to

his ears, and with a triumphant flourish, tum off his hearing aids:

my counterarguments would fall upon deaf ears-literally.

When I pondered my question-how do people know how to act

when confronted with a novel situation-I realized that a large

part of the answer lay in Gibson's work. He pointed out that all the

senses work together, that we pick up information about the world

by the combined result of all of them. "Information pickup" was one

of his favorite phrases, and Gibson believed that the combined in­

formation picked up by all of our sensory apparatus-sight, sound,

smell, touch, balance, kinesthetic, acceleration, body position­

determines our perceptions without the need for internal pro­

cessing or cognition. Although he and I disagreed about the role

played by the brain's internal processing, his brilliance was in fo­

cusing attention on the rich amount of information present in the

world. Moreover, the physical objects conveyed important infor­

mation about how people could interact with them, a property he

named "affordance."

12 The Design of Everyday Things

Affordances exist even if they are not visible. For designers, their

visibility is critical: visible affordances provide strong clues to the

operations of things. A flat plate mounted on a door affords push­

ing. Knobs afford turning, pushing, and pulling. Slots are for in­

serting things into. Balls are for throwing or bouncing. Perceived

affordances help people figure out what actions are possible with­

out the need for labels or instructions. I call the signaling compo­

nent of affordances signifiers.

SIGNIFIERS

Are affordances important to designers? The first edition of this book introduced the term affordances to the world of design. The design community loved the concept and affordances soon prop­ agated into the instruction and writing about design. I soon found mention of the term everywhere. Alas, the term became used in ways that had nothing to do with the original.

Many people find affordances difficult to understand because they are relationships, not properties. Designers deal with fixed properties, so there is a temptation to say that the property is an affordance. But that is not the only problem with the concept of affordances.

Designers have practical problems. They need to know how to design things to make them understandable. They soon discov­ ered that when working with the graphical designs for electronic displays, they needed a way to designate which parts could be touched, slid upward, downward, or sideways, or tapped upon. The actions could be done with a mouse, stylus, or fingers. Some systems responded to body motions, gestures, and spoken words, with no touching of any physical device. How could designers de­ scribe what they were doing? There was no word that fit, so they took the closest existing word-affordance. Soon designers were saying such things as, "I put an affordance there," to describe why they displayed a circle on a screen to indicate where the person should touch, whether by mouse or by finger. "No," I said, "that is not an affordance. That is a way of communicating where the touch should be. You are communicating where to do the touching: the

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 13

affordance of touching exists on the entire screen: you are trying to

signify where the touch should take place. That's not the same thing

as saying what action is possible."

Not only did my explanation fail to satisfy the design commu­

nity, but I myself was unhappy. Eventually I gave up: designers

needed a word to describe what they were doing, so they chose

affordance. What alternative did they have? I decided to provide a

better answer: signifiers. Affordances determine what actions are

possible. Signifiers communicate where the action should take place.

We need both.

People need some way of understanding the product or service

they wish to use, some sign of what it is for, what is happening,

and what the alternative actions are. People search for clues, for

any sign that might help them cope and understand. It is the sign

that is important, anything that might signify meaningful informa­

tion. Designers need to provide these clues. What people need, and

what designers must provide, are signifiers. Good design requires,

among other things, good communication of the purpose, struc­

ture, and operation of the device to the people who use it. That is

the role of the signifier.

The term signifier has had a long and illustrious career in the ex­

otic field of semiotics, the study of signs and symbols. But just as

I appropriated affordance to use in design in a manner somewhat

different than its inventor had intended, I use signifier in a some­

what different way than it is used in semiotics. For me, the term

signifier refers to any mark or sound, any perceivable indicator that

communicates appropriate behavior to a person.

Signifiers can be deliberate and intentional, such as the sign

PUSH on a door, but they may also be accidental and unintentional,

such as our use of the visible trail made by previous people walk­

ing through a field or over a snow-covered terrain to determine

the best path. Or how we might use the presence or absence of

people waiting at a train station to determine whether we have

missed the train. (I explain these ideas in more detail in my book

Living with Complexity.)

14 The Design of Everyday Things

B.

A.

c.

FIGURE 1.2. Problem Doors: Signifiers Are Needed. Door hardware can signal whether to push or pull without signs, but the hardware of the two doors in the upper photo, A, are identical even though one should be pushed, the other pulled. The flat, ribbed horizontal bar has the obvious per�eived affordance of pushing, but as the signs indicate, the door on the left 1s to be pulled, the one on the right is to be pushed. In the bottom pair of photos, Band C, there are no visible signifiers or affordances. How does one know which side to push? Trial and error. When external signifiers-signs­ have to be added to something as simple as a door, it indicates bad design. (Photographs by the author.)

The signifier is an important communication device to the recipi­

ent, whether or not communication was intended. It doesn't matter

whether the useful signal was deliberately placed or whether it is

incidental: there is no necessary distinction. Why should it matter

whether a flag was placed as a deliberate clue to wind direction (as

is done at airports or on the masts of sailboats) or was there as an

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 15

advertisement or symbol of pride in one's country (as is done on public buildings). Once I interpret a flag's motion to indicate wind direction, it does not matter why it was placed there.

Consider a bookmark, a deliberately placed signifier of one's place in reading a book. But the physical nature of books also makes a bookmark an accidental signifier, for its placement also indicates how much of the book remains. Most readers have learned to use

this accidental signifier to aid in their enjoyment of the reading.

With few pages left, we know the end is near. And if the reading is

torturous, as in a school assignment, one can always console one­

self by knowing there are "only a few more pages to get through." Electronic book readers do not have the physical structure of paper books, so unless the software designer deliberately provides a clue,

they do not convey any signal about the amount of text remaining.

A. B.

c.

FIGURE 1.3. Sliding Doors: Seldom Done Well. Sliding doors are seldom signified properly. The top two photographs show the sliding door to the toilet on an Amtrak train in the United States. The handle clearly signifies "pull," but in fact, it needs to be rotated and the door slid to the right. The owner of the store in Shanghai, China, Photo C, solved the problem with a sign. "ooN'T PUSH!" it says, in both English and Chinese. Amtrak's toilet door could have used a similar kind of sign. (Photographs by the author.)

16 The Design of Everyday Things

Whatever their nature, planned or accidental, signifiers provide

valuable clues as to the nature of the world and of social activities.

For us to function in this social, technological world, we need to

develop internal models of what things mean, of how they operate. We seek all the clues we can find to help in this enterprise, and

in this way, we are detectives, searching for whatever guidance

we might find. If we are fortunate, thoughtful designers provide the clues for us. Otherwise, we must use our own creativity and imagination.

B.

D.

FIGURE 1.4. The Sink That Would Not Drain: Where Signifiers Fail. I washed my hands in my hotel sink in London, but then, as shown in Photo A, was left with the question of how to empty the sink of the dirty water. I searched all over for a control: none. I tried prying open the sink stopper with a spoon (Photo B): failure. I finally left my hotel room and went to the front desk to ask for instructions. (Yes, I actually did.) "Push down on the stopper," I was told. Yes, it worked (Photos C and D). But how was anyone to ever discover this? And why should I have to put my clean hands back into the dirty water to empty the sink? The problem here is not just the lack of signifier, it is the faulty decision to produce a stopper that requires people to dirty their clean hands to use it. (Photographs by the author.)

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 17

Affordances, perceived affordances, and signifiers have much in

common, so let me pause to ensure that the distinctions are clear.

Affordances represent the possibilities in the world for how an

agent (a person, animal, or machine) can interact with something.

Some affordances are perceivable, others are invisible. Signifiers

are signals. Some signifiers are signs, labels, and drawings placed

in the world, such as the signs labeled "push," "pull," or "exit"

on doors, or arrows and diagrams indicating what is to be acted

upon or in which direction to gesture, or other instructions. Some

signifiers are simply the perceived affordances, such as the han­

dle of a door or the physical structure of a switch. Note that some

perceived affordances may not be real: they may look like doors

or places to push, or an impediment to entry, when in fact they

are not. These are misleading signifiers, oftentimes accidental but

sometimes purposeful, as when trying to keep people from doing

actions for which they are not qualified, or in games, where one of

the challenges is to figure out what is real and what is not.

FIGURE 1.5. Accidental Affordances A. Can Become St rong Signifiers. This wall, at the Industrial Design department of KAIST, in Korea, provides an anti­ affordance, preventing people from falling down the stair shaft. Its top is flat, an ac­ cidental by-product of the design. But flat surfaces afford support, and as soon as one person discovers it can be used to dispose of empty drink containers, the discarded container becomes a signifier, telling others that it is permissible to discard their items there. (Photographs by the author.)

18 The Design of Everyday Things

My favorite example of a misleading signifier is a row of ver­

tical pipes across a service road that I once saw in a public park.

The pipes obviously blocked cars and trucks from driving on that

road: they were good examples of anti-affordances. But to my great

surprise, I saw a park vehicle simply go through the pipes. Huh? I

walked over and examined them: the pipes were made of rubber,

so vehicles could simply drive right over them. A very clever sig­

nifier, signaling a blocked road (via an apparent anti-affordance)

to the average person, but permitting passage for those who knew.

To summarize:

• Affordances are the possible interactions between people and the en­

vironment. Some affordances are perceivable, others are not.

• Perceived affordances often act as signifiers, but they can be ambiguous.

• Signifiers signal things, in particular what actions are possible and

how they should be done. Signifiers must be perceivable, else they

fail to function.

In design, signifiers are more important than affordances, for

they communicate how to use the design. A signifier can be words,

a graphical illustration, or just a device whose perceived affor­

dances are unambiguous. Creative designers incorporate the sig­

nifying part of the design into a cohesive experience. For the most

part, designers can focus upon signifiers.

Because affordances and signifiers are fundamentally important

principles of good design, they show up frequently in the pages of

this book. Whenever you see hand-lettered signs pasted on doors,

switches, or products, trying to explain how to work them, what to

do and what not to do, you are also looking at poor design.

AFFORDANCES AND SIGNIFIERS: A CONVERSATION

A designer approaches his mentor. He is working on a system that

recommends restaurants to people, based upon their preferences

and those of their friends. But in his tests, he discovered that peo­

ple never used all of the features. "Why not?" he asks his mentor.

(With apologies to Socrates.)

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 19

' / MENTOR DESIGNER

I'm frustrated; people aren't using Can you tell me about it?

our application properly.

The screen shows the restaurant Why do you think this might be?

that we recommend. It matches their preferences, and their friends like it as well. If they want to see other recommendations, all they have to do is swipe left or right. To learn more about a place, just swipe up for a menu or down to see if any friends are there now. People seem to find the other recommendations, but not the menus or their friends? I don't understand.

I don't know. Should I add some That is very nice. But why do you affordances? Suppose I put an arrow call these affordances? They could on each edge and add a label saying already do the actions. Weren't the

what they do. affordances already there?

Yes, you have a point. But the affor· Very true. You added a signal of dances weren't visible. I made them what to do.

visible.

Yes, isn't that what I said? Not quite you called them affor· dances even though they afford nothing new: they signify what to do and where to do it. So call them by their right name: "signifiers."

Oh, I see. But then why do designers You speak wisely. Communication is care about affordances? Perhaps a key to good design. And a key to we should focus our attention on communication is the signifier.

signifiers.

Oh. Now I understand my confusion. Profound ideas are always obvious

Yes, a signifier is what signifies. It once they are understood.

is a sign. Now it seems perfectly obvious.

'-

MAPPING

Mapping is a technical term, borrowed from mathematics, �ean­ ing the relationship between the elem��ts of two sets of things. Suppose there are many lights in the ceiling of a classroom or au­ ditorium and a row of light switches on the wall at the front of the

20 The Design of Everyday Things

FIGURE 1.6. Signifiers on a Touch Screen. The arrows and icons are signifiers: they pro­ vide signals about the permissible operations for this restaurant guide. Swiping left or right brings up new restaurant recommendations. Swiping up reveals the menu for the restau­ rant being displayed; swiping down, friends who recommend the restaurant.

room. The mapping of switches to lights specifies which switch controls which light.

Mapping is an important concept in the design and layout of controls and displays. When the mapping uses spatial correspon­ dence between the layout of the controls and the devices being controlled, it is easy to determine how to use them. In steering a car, we rotate the steering wheel clockwise to cause the car to turn right: the top of the wheel moves in the same direction as the car. Note that other choices could have been made. In early cars, steer­ ing was controlled by a variety of devices, including tillers, han­ dlebars, and reins. Today, some vehicles use joysticks, much as in a computer game. In cars that used tillers, steering was done much as one steers a boat: move the tiller to the left to turn to the right. Tractors, construction equipment such as bulldozers and cranes, and military tanks that have tracks instead of wheels use separate controls for the speed and direction of each track: to turn right, the left track is increased in speed, while the right track is slowed or even reversed. This is also how a wheelchair is steered.

All of these mappings for the control of vehicles work because each has a compelling conceptual model of how the operation of the control affects the vehicle. Thus, if we speed up the left wheel of a wheelchair while stopping the right wheel, it is easy to imag­ ine the chair's pivoting on the right wheel, circling to the right. In

ONE: The Psyclwpathology of Everyday Things 21

a small boat, we can understand the tiller by realizing that pushing

the tiller to the left causes the ship's rudder to move to the right

and the resulting force of the water on the rudder slows down the

right side of the boat, so that the boat rotates to the right. It doesn't

matter whether these conceptual models are accurate: what mat­

ters is that they provide a clear way of remembering and under­

standing the mappings. The relationship between a control and

its results is easiest to learn wherever there is an understandable

mapping between the controls, the actions, and the intended result.

Natural mapping, by which I mean taking advantage of spatial

analogies, leads to immediate understanding. For example, to move

an object up, move the control up. To make it easy to determine

which control works which light in a large room or auditorium,

arrange the controls in the same pattern as the lights. Some natural

mappings are cultural or biological, as in the universal standard

that moving the hand up signifies more, moving it down signifies

less, which is why it is appropriate to use vertical position to rep­

resent intensity or amount. Other natural mappings follow from

the principles of perception and allow for the natural grouping or

patterning of controls and feedback. Groupings and proximity

are important principles from Gestalt psychology that can be used

to map controls to function: related controls should be grouped to­

gether. Controls should be close to the item being controlled.

Note that there are many mappings that feel "natural" but in fact

are specific to a particular culture: what is natural for one culture

is not necessarily natural for another. In Chapter 3, I discuss how

22 The Design of Everyday Things

FIGURE 1.7. Good Mapping: Automobile Seat Adjustment Control. This is an excellent example of natural mapping. The control is in the shape of the seat itself: the mapping is straightforward. To move the front edge of the seat higher, lift up on the front part of the button. To make the seat back recline, move the button back. The same principle could be applied to much more common objects. This partic­ ular control is from Mercedes-Benz, but this form of mapping is now used by many automobile compa­ nies. (Photograph by the author.)

different cultures view time, which has important implications for

some kinds of mappings.

A device is easy to use when the set of possible actions is visi­

ble, when the controls and displays exploit natural mappings. The

principles are simple but rarely incorporated into design. Good de­

sign takes care, planning, thought, and an understanding of how

people behave.

FEEDBACK

Ever watch people at an elevator repeatedly push the Up button, or repeatedly push the pedestrian button at a street crossing? Ever drive to a traffic intersection and wait an inordinate amount of time for the signals to change, wondering all the time whether the detection circuits noticed your vehicle (a common problem with bicycles)? What is missing in all these cases is feedback: some way of letting you know that the system is working on your request.

Feedback-communicating the results of an action-is a well­ known concept from the science of control and information theory. Imagine trying to hit a target with a ball when you cannot see the target. Even as simple a task as picking up a glass with the hand re­ quires feedback to aim the hand properly, to grasp the glass, and to lift it. A misplaced hand will spill the contents, too hard a grip will break the glass, and too weak a grip will allow it to fall. The human nervous system is equipped with numerous feedback mechanisms, including visual, auditory, and touch sensors, as well as vestibular and proprioceptive systems that monitor body position and mus­ cle and limb movements. Given the importance of feedback, it is amazing how many products ignore it.

Feedback must be immediate: even a delay of a tenth of a second can be disconcerting. If the delay is too long, people often give up, going off to do other activities. This is annoying to the people, but it can also be wasteful of resources when the system spends con­ siderable time and effort to satisfy the request, only to find that the intended recipient is no longer there. Feedback must also be infor­ mative. Many companies try to save money by using inexpensive lights or sound generators for feedback. These simple light flashes

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 23

or beeps are usually more annoying than useful. They tell us that

something has happened, but convey very little information about

what has happened, and then nothing about what we should do

about it. When the signal is auditory, in many cases we cannot

even be certain which device has created the sound. If the signal

is a light, we may miss it unless our eyes are on the correct spot

at the correct time. Poor feedback can be worse than no feedback

at all, because it is distracting, uninformative, and in many cases

irritating and anxiety-provoking.

Too much feedback can be even more annoying than too little.

My dishwasher likes to beep at three a.m. to tell me that the wash

is done, defeating my goal of having it work in the middle of the

night so as not to disturb anyone (and to use less expensive elec­

tricity). But worst of all is inappropriate, uninterpretable feedback.

The irritation caused by a "backseat driver" is well enough known

that it is the staple of numerous jokes. Backseat drivers are often

correct, but their remarks and comments can be so numerous and

continuous that instead of helping, they become an irritating dis­

traction. Machines that give too much feedback are like backseat

drivers. Not only is it distracting to be subjected to continual flash­

ing lights, text announcements, spoken voices, or beeps and boops,

but it can be dangerous. Too many announcements cause people to

ignore all of them, or wherever possible, disable all of them, which

means that critical and important ones are apt to be missed. Feed­

back is essential, but not when it gets in the way of other things,

including a calm and relaxing environment.

Poor design of feedback can be the result of decisions aimed at

reducing costs, even if they make life more difficult for people.

Rather than use multiple signal lights, informative displays, or

rich, musical sounds with varying patterns, the focus upon cost

reduction forces the design to use a single light or sound to convey

multiple types of information. If the choice is to use a light, then

one flash might mean one thing; two rapid flashes, something else.

A long flash might signal yet another state; and a long flash fol­

lowed by a brief one, yet another. If the choice is to use a sound,

quite often the least expensive sound device is selected, one that

24 The Design of Everyday Things

can only produce a high-frequency beep. Just as with the lights,

the only way to signal different states of the machine is by beeping

different patterns. What do all these different patterns mean? How

can we possibly learn and remember them? It doesn't help that

every different machine uses a different pattern of lights or beeps,

sometimes with the same patterns meaning contradictory things

for different machines. All the beeps sound alike, so it often isn't

even possible to know which machine is talking to us.

Feedback has to be planned. All actions need to be confirmed,

but in a manner that is unobtrusive. Feedback must also be prior­

itized, so that unimportant information is presented in an unob­

trusive fashion, but important signals are presented in a way that

does capture attention. When there are major emergencies, then

even important signals have to be prioritized. When every device

is signaling a major emergency, nothing is gained by the result­

ing cacophony. The continual beeps and alarms of equipment can

be dangerous. In many emergencies, workers have to spend valu­

able time turning off all the alarms because the sounds interfere

with the concentration required to solve the problem. Hospital op­

erating rooms, emergency wards. Nuclear power control plants.

Airplane cockpits. All can become confusing, irritating, and life­

endangering places because of excessive feedback, excessive alarms,

and incompatible message coding. Feedback is essential, but it has

to be done correctly. Appropriately.

CONCEPTUAL MODELS

A conceptual model is an explanation, usually highly simplified, of how something works. It doesn't have to be complete or even accurate as long as it is useful. The files, folders, and icons you see displayed on a computer screen help people create the conceptual model of documents and folders inside the computer, or of apps or applications residing on the screen, waiting to be summoned. In fact, there are no folders inside the computer-those are effective conceptualizations designed to make them easier to use. Some­ times these depictions can add to the confusion, however. When reading e-mail or visiting a website, the material appears to be on

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 25

the device, for that is where it is displayed and manipulated. But

in fact, in many cases the actual material is "in the cloud," located

on some distant machine. The conceptual model is of one, coherent

image, whereas it may actually consist of parts, each located on

different machines that could be almost anywhere in the world.

This simplified model is helpful for normal usage, but if the net­

work connection to the cloud services is interrupted, the result can

be confusing. Information is still on their screen, but users can no

longer save it or retrieve new things: their conceptual model offers

no explanation. Simplified models are valuable only as long as the

assumptions that support them hold true.

There are often multiple conceptual models of a product or de­

vice. People's conceptual models for the way that regenerative

braking in a hybrid or electrically powered automobile works are

quite different for average drivers than for technically sophisti­

cated drivers, different again for whoever must service the system,

and yet different again for those who designed the system.

Conceptual models found in technical manuals and books for

technical use can be detailed and complex. The ones we are con­

cerned with here are simpler: they reside in the minds of the peo­

ple who are using the product, so they are also "mental models."

Mental models, as the name implies, are the conceptual models in

people's minds that represent their understanding of how things

work. Different people may hold different mental models of the

same item. Indeed, a single person might have multiple models of

the same item, each dealing with a different aspect of its opera­

tion: the models can even be in conflict.

Conceptual models are often inferred from the device itself. Some

models are passed on from person to person. Some come from

manuals. Usually the device itself offers very little assistance, so

the model is constructed by experience. Quite often these models

are erroneous, and therefore lead to difficulties in using the device.

The major clues to how things work come from their perceived

structure-in particular from signifiers, affordances, constraints,

and mappings. Hand tools for the shop, gardening, and the house

tend to make their critical parts sufficiently visible that concep-

26 The Design of Everyday Things

FIGURE 1.8. Junghans Mega 1000 Digital Radio Controlled Watch. There is no good conceptual model for understanding the operation of my watch. It has five buttons with no hints as to what each one does. And yes, the buttons do different things in their different modes. But it is a very nice-looking watch, and always has the exact time because it checks official radio time stations. (The top row of the display is the date: Wednesday, Feb­ ruary 20, the eighth week of the year.) (Photograph by the author.)

tual models of their operation and function are readily derived.

Consider a pair of scissors: you can see that the number of possi­

ble actions is limited. The holes are clearly there to put something

into, and the only logical things that will fit are fingers. The holes

are both affordances-they allow the fingers to be inserted-and

signifiers-they indicate where the fingers are to go. The sizes of

the holes provide constraints to limit the possible fingers: a big

hole suggests several fingers; a small hole, only one. The mapping

between holes and fingers-the set of possible operations-is sig­

nified and constrained by the holes. Moreover, the operation is not

sensitive to finger placement: if you use the wrong fingers (or the

wrong hand), the scissors still work, although not as comfortably.

You can figure out the scissors because their operating parts are

visible and the implications clear. The conceptual model is obvious,

and there is effective use of signifiers, affordances, and constraints.

What happens when the device does not suggest a good concep­

tual model? Consider my digital watch with five buttons: two along

the top, two along the bottom, and one on the left side (Figure 1.8).

What is each button for? How would you set the time? There is no

way to tell-no evident relationship between the operating controls

and the functions, no constraints, no apparent mappings. Moreover,

the buttons have multiple ways of being used. Two of the buttons

do different things when pushed quickly or when kept depressed

for several seconds. Some operations require simultaneous depres­

sion of several of the buttons. The only way to tell how to work the

watch is to read the manual, over and over again. With the scissors,

moving the handle makes the blades move. The watch provides no

ONE: The Psychopathologi; of Everyday Things 27

visible relationship between the buttons and the possible actions,

no discernible relationship between the actions and the end results.

I really like the watch: too bad I can't remember all the functions.

Conceptual models are valuable in providing understanding, in

predicting how things will behave, and in figuring out what to do

when things do not go as planned. A good conceptual model allows

us to predict the effects of our actions. Without a good model, we op­

erate by rote, blindly; we do operations as we were told to do them;

we can't fully appreciate why, what effects to expect, or what to do

if things go wrong. As long as things work properly, we can manage.

When things go wrong, however, or when we come upon a novel

situation, then we need a deeper understanding, a good model.

For everyday things, conceptual models need not be very com­

plex. After all, scissors, pens, and light switches are pretty simple

devices. There is no need to understand the underlying physics or

chemistry of each device we own, just the relationship between

the controls and the outcomes. W hen the model presented to us is

inadequate or wrong (or, worse, nonexistent), we can have difficul­

ties. Let me tell you about my refrigerator.

I used to own an ordinary, two-compartment refrigerator-nothing

very fancy about it. The problem was that I couldn't set the tem­

perature properly. There were only two things to do: adjust the

temperature of the freezer compartment and adjust the tempera-

REFRIGERATOR

4

6 ) COLOER r a (®• FIGURE 1.9. Refrigerator Controls. Two compartments­ fresh food and freezer-and two controls (in the fresh food unit). Your task: Suppose the freezer is too cold, the fresh food sec tion just right. How would you adjust the controls so as to make the freezer warmer and keep the fresh food the same? (Photograph by the author.)

28 The Design of Everyday Things

ture of the fresh food compartment. And there were two controls,

one labeled "freezer," the other "refrigerator." What's the problem?

Oh, perhaps I'd better warn you. The two controls are not inde­

pendent. The freezer control also affects the fresh food tempera­

ture, and the fresh food control also affects the freezer. Moreover,

the manual warns that one should "always allow twenty-four (24)

hours for the temperature to stabilize whether setting the controls

for the first time or making an adjustment."

It was extremely difficult to regulate the temperature of my old

refrigerator. Why? Because the controls suggest a false conceptual

model. Two compartments, two controls, which implies that each

control is responsible for the temperature of the compartment that

carries its name: this conceptual model is shown in Figure 1.lOA. It

is wrong. In fact, there is only one thermostat and only one cooling

mechanism. One control adjusts the thermostat setting, the other

the relative proportion of cold air sent to each of the two compart­

ments of the refrigerator. This is why the two controls interact: this

conceptual model is shown in Figure 1.108. In addition, there must

be a temperature sensor, but there is no way of knowing where it

is located. With the conceptual model suggested by the controls,

B.

REFRIGERATOR

FI?URE �.10. Two Conceptual Models for a Refrigerator. The conceptual model A is provided by the system image of the refrigerator as gleaned from the controls. Each control determines the temperature of the named part of the refrigerator. This means that each compartment has its own temperature sensor and cooling unit. This is wrong. The correct conceptual model is shown in B. There is no way of knowing where the temperature sensor is located so it is shown outside the refrigerator. The freezer control determines the freezer temperature (so is this where the sensor is located?). The refrigerator control determines how much of the cold air goes to the freezer and how much to the refrigerator.

ONE: The Psychopathologi; of Everyday Things 29

adjusting the temperatures is almost impossible and always frus­

trating. Given the correct model, life would be much easier.

Why did the manufacturer suggest the wrong conceptual model?

We will never know. In the twenty-five years since the publication

of the first edition of this book, I have had many letters from people

thanking me for explaining their confusing refrigerator, but never

any communication from the manufacturer (General Electric). Per­

haps the designers thought the correct model was too complex,

that the model they were giving was easier to understand. But with

the wrong conceptual model, it was impossible to set the controls.

And even though I am convinced I knew the correct model, I still

couldn't accurately adjust the temperatures because the refrigera­

tor design made it impossible to discover which control was for the

temperature sensor, which for the relative proportion of cold air,

and in which compartment the sensor was located. The lack of im­

mediate feedback for the actions did not help: it took twenty-four

hours to see whether the new setting was appropriate . I shouldn't

have to keep a laboratory notebook and do controlled experiments

just to set the temperature of my refrigerator.

I am happy to say that I no longer own that refrigerator. In­

stead I have one that has two separate controls, one in the fresh

food compartment, one in the freezer compartment. Each control

is nicely calibrated in degrees and labeled with the name of the

compartment it controls. The two compartments are independent:

setting the temperature in one has no effect on the temperature in

the other. This solution, although ideal, does cost more. But far less

expensive solutions are possible. With today's inexpensive sensors

and motors, it should be possible to have a single cooling unit with

a motor-controlled valve controlling the relative proportion of cold

air diverted to each compartment. A simple, inexpensive computer

chip could regulate the cooling unit and valve position so that the

temperatures in the two compartments match their targets. A bit

more work for the engineering design team? Yes, but the results

would be worth it. Alas, General Electric is still selling refrigerators

with the very same controls and mechanisms that cause so much

30 The Design of Everyday Things

confusion. The photograph in Figure 1.9 is from a contemporary

refrigerator, photographed in a store while preparing this book.

The System Image

People create mental models of themselves, others, the environ­

ment, and the things with which they interact. These are concep­

tual models formed through experience, training, and instruction.

These models serve as guides to help achieve our goals and in un­

derstanding the world.

How do we form an appropriate conceptual model for the de­

vices we interact with? We cannot talk to the designer, so we rely

upon whatever information is available to us: what the device

looks like, what we know from using similar things in the past,

what was told to us in the sales literature, by salespeople and ad­

vertisements, by articles we may have read, by the product website

and instruction manuals. I call the combined information available

to us the system image. When the system image is incoherent or in­

appropriate, as in the case of the refrigerator, then the user cannot

easily use the device. If it is incomplete or contradictory, there will

be trouble.

As illustrated in Figure 1.11, the designer of the product and the

person using the product form somewhat disconnected vertices of

a triangle. The designer's conceptual model is the designer's con­

ception of the product, occupying one vertex of the triangle. The

product itself is no longer with the designer, so it is isolated as a

second vertex, perhaps sitting on the user's kitchen counter. The

system image is what can be perceived from the physical struc­

ture that has been built (including documentation, instructions,

signifiers, and any information available from websites and help

lines). The user's conceptual model comes from the system image,

through interaction with the product, reading, searching for online

information, and from whatever manuals are provided. The de­

signer expects the user's model to be identical to the design model,

but because designers cannot communicate directly with users, the

entire burden of communication is on the system image.

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 31

FIGURE 1.11. The Designer's Model, the User's Model, and the System Im· age. The designer's conceptual model is the designer's conception of the look, feel, and operation of a product. The system image is what can be derived from the physical structure that has been built (including documentation). The user's mental model is developed through in· teraction with the product and the system image. Designers expect the user's model to be identical to their own, but because they cannot communicate directly with the user, the burden of communication is with the system image.

Figure 1.11 indicates why communication is such an important

aspect of good design. No matter how brilliant the product, if peo­

ple cannot use it, it will receive poor reviews. It is up to the de­

signer to provide the appropriate information to make the product

understandable and usable. Most important is the provision of a

good conceptual model that guides the user when thing go wrong.

With a good conceptual model, people can figure out what has

happened and correct the things that went wrong. Without a good

model, they struggle, often making matters worse.

Good conceptual models are the key to understandable, enjoy­

able products: good communication is the key to good conceptual

models.

The Paradox of Technology

Technology offers the potential to make life easier and more en­

joyable; each new technology provides increased benefits. At the

same time, added complexities increase our difficulty and frustra­

tion with technology. The design problem posed by technological

advances is enormous. Consider the wristwatch. A few decades

ago, watches were simple. All you had to do was set the time and

keep the watch wound. The standard control was the stern: a knob

at the side of the watch. Turning the knob would wind the spring

that provided power to the watch movement. Pulling out the knob

and turning it rotated the hands. The operations were easy to learn

and easy to do. There was a reasonable relationship between the

32 The Design of Everyday Things

turning of the knob and the resulting turning of the hands. The

design even took into account human error. In its normal position,

turning the stern wound the mainspring of the clock. The stern had

to be pulled before it would engage the gears for setting the time.

Accidental turns of the stern did no harm.

Watches in olden times were expensive instruments, manu­

factured by hand. They were sold in jewelry stores. Over time,

with the introduction of digital technology, the cost of watches

decreased rapidly, while their accuracy and reliability increased.

Watches became tools, available in a wide variety of styles and

shapes and with an ever-increasing number of functions. Watches

were sold everywhere, from local shops to sporting goods stores

to electronic stores. Moreover, accurate clocks were incorporated in

many appliances, from phones to musical keyboards: many people

no longer felt the need to wear a watch. Watches became inexpen­

sive enough that the average person could own multiple watches.

They became fashion accessories, where one changed the watch

with each change in activity and each change of clothes.

In the modern digital watch, instead of winding the spring, we

change the battery, or in the case of a solar-powered watch, ensure

that it gets its weekly dose of light. The technology has allowed

more functions: the watch can give the day of the week, the month,

and the year; it can act as a stopwatch (which itself has several

functions), a countdown timer, and an alarm clock (or two); it has

the ability to show the time for different time zones; it can act as

a counter and even as a calculator. My watch, shown in Figure

1.8, has many functions. It even has a radio receiver to allow it to

set its time with official time stations around the world. Even so,

it is far less complex than many that are available. Some watches

have built-in compasses and barometers, accelerometers, and tem­

perature gauges. Some have GPS and Internet receivers so they

can display the weather and news, e-mail messages, and the lat­

est from social networks. Some have built-in cameras. Some work

with buttons, knobs, motion, or speech. Some detect gestures. The

watch is no longer just an instrument for telling time: it has become

a platform for enhancing multiple activities and lifestyles.

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 33

The added functions cause problems: How can all these func­

tions fit into a small, wearable size? There are no easy answers.

Many people have solved the problem by not using a watch. They

use their phone instead. A cell phone performs all the functions

much better than the tiny watch, while also displaying the time.

Now imagine a future where instead of the phone replacing

the watch, the two will merge, perhaps worn on the wrist, per­

haps on the head like glasses, complete with display screen. The

phone, watch, and components of a computer will all form one

unit. We will have flexible displays that show only a tiny amount

of information in their normal state, but that can unroll to consid­

erable size. Projectors will be so small and light that they can be

built into watches or phones (or perhaps rings and other jewelry),

projecting their images onto any convenient surface. Or perhaps

our devices won't have displays, but will quietly whisper the re­

sults into our ears, or simply use whatever display happens to be

available: the display in the seatback of cars or airplanes, hotel

room televisions, whatever is nearby. The devices will be able to

do many useful things, but I fear they will also frustrate: so many

things to control, so little space for controls or signifiers. The ob­

vious solution is to use exotic gestures or spoken commands, but

how will we learn, and then remember, them? As I discuss later,

the best solution is for there to be agreed upon standards, so we

need learn the controls only once. But as I also discuss, agreeing

upon these is a complex process, with many competing forces hin­

dering rapid resolution. We will see.

The same technology that simplifies life by providing more

functions in each device also complicates life by making the device

harder to learn, harder to use. This is the paradox of technology

and the challenge for the designer.

T_he Design Challenge

Design requires the cooperative efforts of multiple disciplines. The

number of different disciplines required to produce a successful

product is staggering. Great design requires great designers, but

that isn't enough: it also requires great management, because the

34 The Design of Everyday Things

hardest part of producing a product is coordinating all the many,

separate disciplines, each with different goals and priorities. Each

discipline has a different perspective of the relative importance of

the many factors that make up a product. One discipline argues

that it must be usable and understandable, another that it must be

attractive, yet another that it has to be affordable. Moreover, the de­

vice has to be reliable, be able to be manufactured and serviced. It

must be distinguishable from competing products and superior in

critical dimensions such as price, reliability, appearance, and the

functions it provides. Finally, people have to actually purchase

it. It doesn't matter how good a product is if, in the end, nobody

uses it.

Quite often each discipline believes its distinct contribution to

be most important: "Price," argues the marketing representative,

"price plus these features." "Reliable," insist the engineers. "We

have to be able to manufacture it in our existing plants," say the

manufacturing representatives. "We keep getting service calls,"

say the support people; "we need to solve those problems in the

design." "You can't put all that together and still have a reasonable

product," says the design team. Who is right? Everyone is right.

The successful product has to satisfy all these requirements.

The hard part is to convince people to understand the view­

points of the others, to abandon their disciplinary viewpoint and

to think of the design from the viewpoints of the person who buys

the product and those who use it, often different people. The view­

point of the business is also important, because it does not matter

how wonderful the product is if not enough people buy it. If a

product does not sell, the company must often stop producing it,

even if it is a great product. Few companies can sustain the huge

cost of keeping an unprofitable product alive long enough for its

sales to reach profitability-with new products, this period is usu­

ally measured in years, and sometimes, as with the adoption of

high-definition television, decades.

Designing well is not easy. The manufacturer wants something

that can be produced economically. The store wants something

that will be attractive to its customers. The purchaser has several

ONE: The Psychopathology of Everyday Things 35

demands. In the store, the purchaser focuses on price and appear­

ance, and perhaps on prestige value. At home, the same person

will pay more attention to functionality and usability. The repair

service cares about maintainability: how easy is the device to take

ap art, diagnose, and service? The needs of those concerned are

different and often conflict. Nonetheless, if the design team has

representatives from all the constituencies present at the same

time, it is of ten possible to reach satisfactory solutions for all

the needs. It is when the disciplines operate independently of one

another that maj or clashes and deficiencies occur. The challenge

is to use the principles of human-centered design to produce pos­

itive results, products that enhance lives and add to our pleasure

and enjoyment. The goal is to produce a great product, one that is

successful, and that customers love. It can be done.

36 The Design of Everyday Things