Commentary

Seeking Truth versus Seeking truths

I think about those questions every time I sit down to consider a new project. Do I have enough information to make a compelling solution? Do I understand my target audience well enough to judge any alternative as better than another? How confident am I in proposing a solution, especially if it is disruptive, expensive or otherwise foreign to the current direction of the organization? In general, if I’ve been asked to participate in designing a solution, it is likely because the problem is intractable and the solution is neither obvious, self-evident or cheap. 

The thought that I was spending too much time on research and not enough time fashioning solutions forced me to reconsider what my organization’s values were.

I am unapologetic about using research as a means to solve problems rather than to explore the human condition. I recall my roommate in graduate school whose ambition was exactly the opposite: using research to simply further a business goal seemed cheap and easy; far better to discover underlying principles that would further the knowledge of the species.

I am happy to let the seekers of Truth expand the human knowledgebase through careful experimentation, large-scale observations and years-long endeavors. I am not a seeker of Truth, but rather a seeker of truths, those things that are likely to be true in a given context at a given time, but may not be reflective of a larger Truth about the human condition. Design is applied art; it depends on a patron, its success is judged by how well it works within an externally provided framework (the market, the user base, the patron’s arbitrary needs, etc.), In finding small truths, I believe my designs are more suitable to the immediate context for which they have been commissioned. 

Data Driven Design

Fairly early on in my career I learned I liked to get things right.  In pursuing solutions for clients, I discovered my imagination, powerful as it might be, was just as likely to get it wrong as it was to get it right. Imagination and excellent craftwork are insufficient to get things right, no matter how intuitive the designer. Without an empathic understanding of the target problem space, the designer is at best delivering Art, and at worst, junk. Creating an “elegant” design (balancing the three Vitruvian principles firmitatis utilitatis venustatis, translated roughly as strength, utility, and beauty) means incorporating the sensibilities of the individuals for whom it is intended. Assuming design elegance is defined in Vitruvian terms, provocative questions remain: whose definition of utilitarian or beautiful should we use, our own, or the users of our offerings?

I no longer take great joy in simply making things up—the lack of constraints is fundamentally unsatisfying—I prefer to respond to clear and present needs of a target audience.

For me, crafting a solution to a problem rooted in a target audience’s experience is far more satisfying than creating arbitrary forms. Finding a problem set previously undiscovered or not yet addressed by existing products is as close to exhilarating as my life gets these days. (I need to get out more). Finding solutions to those problems is even more delightful.  But best of all is witnessing users enjoying those solutions.  Knowing (with a high confidence in advance) my proposed solutions will be embraced, is sweet.

The point is, research is not a necessary evil, it is the key to identifying the problem space in which a solution will be found. Obversely, research need not be driven to academic proportions: in business, seeking truths is far more relevant than seeking Truth. 

User-centered Research

In a previous article I discussed agile methods of eliciting user reactions as a way of reducing costs and illuminating real needs. In many circumstances, agile approaches can be very cost effective, but in other cases they fail to identify world-class breakthrough ideas. In the most recent article, I mentioned the hazards a business faces as it attempts to enter a completely new “ecology of use.” Without self-consciously reconsidering its current offerings in the context of the new ecology, a business will likely fail to capitalize on the opportunities to be found there.

Given how easy (and inexpensive) it is to find opportunities in a new ecology, it’s almost a crime businesses fail so badly at it. The key to the process is to stop “selling” and start “listening.” Put another way, the key to the process is to stop “knowing” and start “observing.” Another way to put it is to approach the new ecology with “beginner’s mind.” I remember my father, when he gave sales trainings, saying: “Your customer doesn’t really care about you, your product or what you’re selling. He’s all wrapped up in his own problems. Figure out how you can be a solution to his problems, and he’ll sell your product for you.”

We are often so wrapped up in our preconceptions of our users’ world we fail to see opportunities for elegant solutions. We think the answer is in a website, an enterprise product, or a new piece of hardware. Maybe it’s none of those things; maybe it’s just a minor but significant change in a process. In a commission for a remodel of a bathroom I was asked to resolve a problem with damp towels. As I listened to the owners describe the issue, standing in their existing bathroom, I observed how the towel rods were mounted, their length and so forth. They suggested I research heated rods as one way to solve the problem. Instead, I presented a design in which the towel rods were lengthened and positioned closer to the heating vents. I then suggested they fold their towels differently to allow them more surface area to dry. It wasn’t very “sexy,” but I was able to use the money saved on unnecessary technology to improve the design elsewhere.

My process (and from what I can gather from other practitioners, a process that supports world-class results) depends on deep, empathic understanding of the individuals who are intended to use our offerings. Without a basic understanding of our users’ environments, artifacts, power relationships, goals, aspirations, hopes and dreams we are unqualified to make relevant and long-lasting design decisions.  It is our job as User Experience Architects to impress on our managers and our organizations the crucial need for this deep understanding if our offerings are to measure up to our expectations.  As it turns out, and as I’ll discuss in the next article, getting to this level of understanding is not expensive and does not require an army of highly trained individuals.