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Heft

Hold and closely inspect an iPhone 5 (as I did the other day), and one thing becomes clear: it is one well-crafted piece of equipment. I mean, the fit and finish, as they say, is impeccable, especially for a mass-produced consumer gadget.

And yet…

When I held the 5 in my hand, it was so light — so very, very light — that it felt a little (how shall I put this?) … insubstantial. It felt like it was filled with air.

In a way, its very lightness seemed to run counter to the fact that I was holding one of the most advanced pieces of consumer technology in human history.

Don’t get me wrong: lighter is definitely better, especially when talking about a mobile device. But it made me think about psychology, and about how we still tend to associate things like heft with quality.

My grandparents’ Zenith was a wood-paneled piece of furniture, rivaling the adjacent loveseat for girth and weight, so it’s clear that we’ve come to accept smaller and lighter as (usually) better. And if I actually owned an iPhone 5, I’m sure I’d quickly come to appreciate its relative svelteness. Still, in the moment, I expected…more.

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters

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Why

I was updating the Experience section on my LinkedIn profile today. What I had there just seemed…wrong. I’m not sure what I ended up replacing it with is necessarily that much better in terms of the context, but it pretty much sums up where I am at this moment in time as a UX professional. Here it is:

As long as I can remember I’ve wanted to help shape experiences, to create things that people would interact with, to make things just a little bit better.

So while I’ve worked for great firms, helped recognized brands, and won some awards along the way, what has always mattered most is the challenge just in front of me.

At this point, I’m most excited by how my skills and knowledge can solve not just business problems, but human problems as well. This is an exciting time to be a UX professional.

perfection

Iterating to Perfection

Most companies seem to be perpetually chasing after The Next Big Thing. And why not? Consumers love The Next Big Thing. Pundits love to write about The Next Big Thing. There’s nothing wrong with The Next Big Thing. After all, the first iPhone was The Next Big Thing.

Then it wasn’t. And that’s okay: now it’s just The Best Thing.

Some may say of the iPhone 5 that Apple needs new ideas, that they’re stalled, lacking innovation. Some will certainly opine that the fact that the iPhone 5 isn’t revolutionary (or is it?) has something to do with the loss of Steve Jobs. Maybe, but I don’t think so.

In fact, I’d be very surprised if somewhere deep underground in Cupertino there isn’t a team working on The Next Big Thing. But true to Apple form, they’re not going to release it until it’s ready.

In the meantime, Apple will continue doing what it does best: taking something that’s already great and making it better.

In other words: Iterating to Perfection.

PS: I share Neven Mrgan’s sentiment on Twitter: “Personally I’d prefer not to have my mind blown by a revolutionary, all-new phone every single year.” Amen.

PPS: I think it’s a testament to the quality of the last iPhone, the 4S, that I’m not feeling utterly devastated that I won’t be getting the new iPhone 5 any time soon. Unless, of course, something bad happens to my 4S…

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters

Obvious Ideas

Don’t Rule Out the Obvious

Earlier today a colleague showed me a very cool app he’s working on. I can’t reveal any details about the app itself, but my first reaction was surprise. I asked, “Are you sure no one else has already done this?” Turns out he’d done his research, and his app would indeed be the first of its kind. It’s a bit hard to believe because his idea is such a no brainer, but there you have it.

If the idea had been mine, I might have dismissed it: “Surely someone else is already doing this!”

There’s a lesson here: ideas shouldn’t be ignored simply because they’re obvious. In fact, there’s a distinct possibility no on else has acted on the idea — maybe others thought it was too obvious — or, if they did, their execution was so poor that there’s opportunity for improvement.

Someone has to be first. Why not you?

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters

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Innovation by Subtraction

We tend to think of innovation as an additive process. We ask ourselves, “What new thing can we do, what new feature can we add, what more should we do to make our product better?”

And it works: innovation as an additive process can be very powerful in a nascent context, where true differentiation requires leaps and bounds advances. But in more mature contexts, subtraction can be an even more potent form of innovation. Where your competitors are scrambling to add more of this or that, you can remove, reduce, and refocus on those things that really matter to your customers. Where others are piling on, you can strip away.

It’s not easy to be subtractive. Besides the natural desire to build, there is the organizational tendency to reward those who are additive in their approach. It’s much easier to envision getting a promotion based on doing something new, rather than removing something old. This means focusing not on what was done, additive or subtractive, but what the results were. Did you make things better or worse? Did your innovation help or hinder? Did you contribute to bloat, or did you facilitate efficiency?

In the pursuit of more, consider doing less.

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters

Pale Blue Dot

On Curiosity

There is a passage in the beginning of Carl Sagan’s book, Pale Blue Dot, in which he describes asking that, before it left our solar system, Voyager I be turned around to face the Earth. Sagan’s hope was that the spacecraft would capture one last, fleeting image of our planet before it went off into the great celestial beyond.

He initially encountered resistance. There was fear that such a maneuver would deplete what little was left of Voyager’s power reserves. And anyway, there were those who felt such an action had little if any scientific value. Nonetheless, Sagan persisted…and won.

The result: in 1990, an image of our Earth, one tiny, pale blue pixel (less, actually, since it had to be enhanced) in the endless night sky. A pixel that, as Sagan described it, conveyed something critical about our place in the universe:

From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Consider again that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Space exploration is more than science; it is art. Like art, it helps us understand our place, our purpose, and our possibilities.

Viva Curiosity!

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters

Hillman Curtis

RIP Hillman Curtis

I was saddened this morning to learn of the untimely passing of Hillman Curtis. Hillman was a true Web pioneer, a digital adventurer.

He was someone who saw the potential of the Internet when others saw only limitations. For those of us who were building the Web in the mid- and late-90s, Hillman showed us the way to richer, more immsersive and engaging experiences.

He was generous with his expertise, a good writer and speaker and, from what I’ve heard, a true gentleman.

RIP, Hillman.

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Let me know what you think on Twitter: @mmcwatters.

It’s Not Peanut Butter

In the late 90s I was working with a web producer (remember those?) who insisted on saying, “JIF.” I finally snapped. “It’s GIF, not JIF! It stands for Graphics Interchange Format. Note the word is ‘graphics,’ not ‘giraffics.’”

To which he wisely replied, “Who cares?” He’s absolutely right.

Nonetheless, watching this cute video about the history of the GIF today, it still rankles to hear seemingly intelligent people say “JIF.”

I would tell them exactly what I told that Web producer nearly 15 years ago: “If you insist on saying ‘JIF,’ I’m going to start saying ‘Gay-PEG.’”

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Simplify

You’ll rarely go wrong by simplifying.

A simple, obvious thought, but one that can elude even the brightest among us at times. Often when I think I’ve hit a wall, I’ll remind myself to trim, strip, shave, and reduce. You can always build back up again, if you like.

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Easy and Hard

Recently I was asked why I suggested a Cancel button be moved to the right of a Delete button in a dialogue box. The confusion was understandable: in this particular UX, the paradigm had been established that termination actions were on the left, whereas continuation actions were on the right. My response was that, since this was the last chance the user would have before losing their data, they should have to look just a little harder before selecting Delete.

This reminded me of a good UX maxim: make it as easy as possible for people to do that which they want to do, and harder for them to do that which they might not want to do.

Make it Easy

If users want to enroll, subscribe, purchase, read, save, whatever…make it as easy as possible. Remove all roadblocks. Get out of their way!

Make it Hard

If a user might do something they don’t really want to do, make it hard. (Or, make it less than easy.) For example, while one warning might suffice when deleting a file, perhaps two warnings need to appear before wiping a hard drive.

As UX professionals, we trumpet the art of making things easy, but we also need to remember that sometimes, in some cases, it’s better to make things just a little bit more difficult.

Ascent

RIP, Steve Jobs

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Hero

Wozniak and Jobs

We knew this day was coming. We could see it in his gaunt frame. We suspected it when he stepped down. We felt it when he handed over the reins just a short time ago.

And yet many of us hoped it would all work out, that there would be a fix, a patch, that Steve would pull through. Not just because we think Apple and Pixar are cool; not just because big chunks of who we are and what we do are a tribute to him; but because we simply don’t like the idea of a world without Steve Jobs.

You see, in some way, on some level, in the back of our minds, it was comforting to know there was a Steve Jobs among us, someone who knew what was next, what might be, what could be — even if he was in semi-retirement, nursing his illness and biding his time until his triumphant return (yet again). Even those people who were anti-fans gave credibility to the stature of his accomplishments by rebelling against them.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, “There are no second acts in American lives.” That wasn’t true in Steve’s case; his was the remarkable story of the comeback kid, the underdog who made it after all. And it’s too bad he didn’t get a chance at a third act; I think it would have been great.

I was never into superheros. I don’t follow celebrities or athletes. I’m not excited by politicians. But I do admire and revere visionaries, those rare people who dream of a better world and those, rarer still, who make it a reality. And for that reason, Steve Jobs is my hero, and I now understand how others feel when their hero is gone.

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What I Do

Describing what I do for a living to people unfamilar with the UX profession often elicits confused looks and/or polite head nodding. With that in mind, a few months ago I asked several UX professionals whom I admire how they describe what they do for a living.

I received some great answers, and one of my favorites came from Graham Ericksen, who wrote, “I make websites easy to use.” Alex Kirtland wrote something very similar: “If I get confused looks, I just say I’m the guy that makes websites easy to use.” (A gift of great UX professioals is succinctness.)

I’ve adopted this description, adding to it just a bit: “My job is to make websites and mobile apps useful, engaging, and easy to use.” I might also add that, “I’m responsible for making sure content, structure, and design support that goal.”

I’ve tried it out a few times recently, and people seem to get it.

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The Backlash Backlash

We all know the story: Facebook introduces a new feature or revises an existing feature, and there’s a cacophonous outcry from disgruntled users. Then, time passes, and people get used to the changes. Or they don’t, but they get by anyway.

But this time there’s a backlash backlash afoot, people who are frustrated by those who are, well, frustrated. “If you don’t like it, quit using Facebook!” “Quit complaining! It’s a free service!” “What a bunch of entitled whiners.”

Yet this backlash backlash reminds me of the 1970s, when you’d hear people say, “If you don’t like it here, move to Russia.” Really? That’s your answer to people who think something is broken? Move to Russia? Leave Facebook?

No, I think the backlash backlash misses something. Sure, Facebook is a free service, and people aren’t obligated to use it. But without users, Facebook doesn’t have a business. Yes, I’m aware that Facebook’s real customers aren’t users, but advertisers; it’s the advertisers, after all, who pay the bills. Still, without users Facebook doesn’t have eyeballs, and without eyeballs, Facebook doesn’t have advertisers. In other words, try not to piss off your users if you can help it, even if they’re not the ones directly paying your bills.

What happened this time?

Let’s take a look at this latest backlash: Facebook yet again changed the way the news feed feature works. It’s not a major change, but for many people, it’s a frustrating change. First and foremost, the change was made with little warning, violating one of the core principles of user experience: provide advance warning before you change things.

Second, the change is pretty nonsensical: why does Facebook get to decide which news items are most important to me? Isn’t that my job? This violates another rule of user experience: whenever possible and practical, let your users customize and control their experience.

Third, the change isn’t reversible or changeable. I can’t go back to the way it was, and I can’t modify the preference to suit my preference. In other words, the carpet was snapped out from under me, without warning, in a nonsensical manner, and without the option to put things right again.

The world’s smallest violin

Yes, this can certainly be filed under “problems that are pretty minor in the grand scheme of things.” It’s a social networking site, after all. Nonetheless, the fact that users are so upset also speaks to the wild popularity of Facebook, the fact that users consider Facebook an indispensable part of their lives, that there really are no viable alternatives. Users love Facebook so much — they have so much invested in it — that even the smallest change can spark a firestorm of outrage.

Oh, and let’s not forget that one of the primary reasons people post on Facebook in the first place is to gripe about even the puniest of problems.

So is all this whining about a change to the news feed really such a bad thing? I think most companies would kill to have their audience as invested in their experience as Facebook does.

Therefore, before the backlash backlashers tell the complainers to metaphorically move to Russia, perhaps they should consider the alternative: a Facebook that makes arbitrary decisions, without warning, that make little sense, on an unpredictable basis. In other words, Facebook could  become the U.S. auto industry of the 70s and 80s. And who needs another Chevy Vega after all?

User in Chief

Jobs thinking

The genius of Steve Jobs is not in his creative or technical chops, but in his ability to be the ultimate user. He is able to tap into his own sensibilities to discern what will be great, and what will be a flop. More to the point, however, he is driven by his own own sensibilities, tastes, quirks, and neuroses.

After his return to Apple in the late 90s, when everyone said Apple was dead, he began identifying, supporting, and launching killer products with breathtaking frequency. Yes, there were missteps and mistakes, but overall the product line Apple developed reflects one thing if nothing else: the unique, unwavering sensibility of Steve Jobs.

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When you look at what other companies produce, do you see a singular focus, a common aesthetic, a relentless sense of right and wrong, good and bad, or do you just see another product lineup reflecting the flavors du jour? Do you see the thumbprint of a visionary, or the stamp of committee approval?

And now Jobs is retiring. But I’m not too worried about Apple’s future, because there is another thing Steve Jobs did really well: he recognized and cultivated great talent within Apple, and that talent is now taking over the reins.