A simple, stupid little tool helps me contextualize and reflect on the future of ubiquitous, user-centered design.
To say an object’s design is ubiquitous is more than saying it is merely "widespread." Ubiquity, in design, means to be so submerged into a culture's collective subconscious that its presence is almost never questioned or realized.
As a kid, I was told how the person who invented the plastic stands found in the center of carry-out pizzas became a millionaire for their patent. Then, I mocked the stupidity of someone getting so rich over something so simple.
Now, I consider "pizza savers" a ubiquitous design. The three-legged plastic stand is almost universally found at the center of pizzas ordered via delivery or take-out. They support the weight of boxes stacked on top of each other. I see this device all the time, and yet I still had to search its name. Even through the vastness of the internet, it was relatively difficult.
I never give pizza savers a second thought, never question why they are in the middle of my pizza, and, if especially hungry, don’t notice their presence. They have become so synonymous with ordering pizza that they go unnoticed in their function.
Ubiquity causes users to act or use without thinking. This is great when applied to trivial things. We do not want the presence of simple, everyday designs to hinder us from accomplishing the goals they are meant to help accomplish.
We should not consider the font and color of highway exit signs, or question how a new tissue appears when you pull the top one out. If we have to hesitate or watch our steps while walking up a flight of stairs, the stair’s design is failing. Ubiquitous design should not interrupt us.
However, what happens when ethically gray actions get lost in this ubiquity, and slide past users the way a tiny piece of plastic is quickly discarded by a hungry college student?
What happens when iPhone user agreements, allowing big data to follow the user's every move on their phone, become ubiquitous? When they are deigned to be quickly and conveniently clicked through and discarded?
What happens when quick, easy social media pages create a database accessible to law enforcement to track down curfew breakers well after the fact? Or when the right to privacy is obstructed in the name of convenience and ease-of-access?
Design is now ubiquitous, and sometimes too good for our own good. Design that causes users to act without allowing them to consider the consequences of their action is ubiquitous in the way that a pen leading to the slaughterhouse is ubiquitous to sheep.
Design now needs to evolve to ensure that users slow down and think when their actions have weight. Some designs already have affordances that purposely slow the user down or make them stop and reflect. One such design is public doors. Author Don Norman extensively discusses good and bad door design in his celebrated work The Design of Everyday Things. Many doors purposely create friction in order to slow the user as an act of caution.
Doors are often heavy or installed using slow pulling hinges so that people are unable to open them too quickly and hit people on the other side. Automatic car doors and trucks open and close slowly to give the user time to avoid getting hit. The vast majority of manual car door handles are horizontal because the grip motion required to open them makes it more difficult for the user to carelessly fling it open.
These usability features need to start being incorporated into our new technology: mobile devices, social media platforms, Internet searches. The effects of allowing users to thoughtlessly perform actions through these mediums without being slowed to consider the consequences may have detrimental effects.
I'm not sure how users will respond to “ethically frictional” designs that slow them at key points as they try to rush to their desired goals. It may take some time to discover clear answers to these ethical dilemmas, but at least it's clear that we, as a society, have moved well-beyond problems like concaving pizza boxes.
To say an object’s design is ubiquitous is more than saying it is merely "widespread." Ubiquity, in design, means to be so submerged into a culture's collective subconscious that its presence is almost never questioned or realized.
As a kid, I was told how the person who invented the plastic stands found in the center of carry-out pizzas became a millionaire for their patent. Then, I mocked the stupidity of someone getting so rich over something so simple.
Now, I consider "pizza savers" a ubiquitous design. The three-legged plastic stand is almost universally found at the center of pizzas ordered via delivery or take-out. They support the weight of boxes stacked on top of each other. I see this device all the time, and yet I still had to search its name. Even through the vastness of the internet, it was relatively difficult.
I never give pizza savers a second thought, never question why they are in the middle of my pizza, and, if especially hungry, don’t notice their presence. They have become so synonymous with ordering pizza that they go unnoticed in their function.
Ubiquity causes users to act or use without thinking. This is great when applied to trivial things. We do not want the presence of simple, everyday designs to hinder us from accomplishing the goals they are meant to help accomplish.
We should not consider the font and color of highway exit signs, or question how a new tissue appears when you pull the top one out. If we have to hesitate or watch our steps while walking up a flight of stairs, the stair’s design is failing. Ubiquitous design should not interrupt us.
However, what happens when ethically gray actions get lost in this ubiquity, and slide past users the way a tiny piece of plastic is quickly discarded by a hungry college student?
What happens when iPhone user agreements, allowing big data to follow the user's every move on their phone, become ubiquitous? When they are deigned to be quickly and conveniently clicked through and discarded?
What happens when quick, easy social media pages create a database accessible to law enforcement to track down curfew breakers well after the fact? Or when the right to privacy is obstructed in the name of convenience and ease-of-access?
Design is now ubiquitous, and sometimes too good for our own good. Design that causes users to act without allowing them to consider the consequences of their action is ubiquitous in the way that a pen leading to the slaughterhouse is ubiquitous to sheep.
Design now needs to evolve to ensure that users slow down and think when their actions have weight. Some designs already have affordances that purposely slow the user down or make them stop and reflect. One such design is public doors. Author Don Norman extensively discusses good and bad door design in his celebrated work The Design of Everyday Things. Many doors purposely create friction in order to slow the user as an act of caution.
Doors are often heavy or installed using slow pulling hinges so that people are unable to open them too quickly and hit people on the other side. Automatic car doors and trucks open and close slowly to give the user time to avoid getting hit. The vast majority of manual car door handles are horizontal because the grip motion required to open them makes it more difficult for the user to carelessly fling it open.
These usability features need to start being incorporated into our new technology: mobile devices, social media platforms, Internet searches. The effects of allowing users to thoughtlessly perform actions through these mediums without being slowed to consider the consequences may have detrimental effects.
I'm not sure how users will respond to “ethically frictional” designs that slow them at key points as they try to rush to their desired goals. It may take some time to discover clear answers to these ethical dilemmas, but at least it's clear that we, as a society, have moved well-beyond problems like concaving pizza boxes.
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