Thoughts on Interaction Design

Interaction Design concerns itself with the dialogue between a person and a creation. This dialogue is usually found in the world of behavior; the way someone may hold their knife and fork while cutting into a steak, or the gaze of another on a beautiful chair, following the twist of the wood as it twines around and through. Nature seems to understand dialogue, as the give and take of plants and animals in harmony creates the beauty and wonder of the world in which we live. The conversation stretches across species and over long stretches of land, and what is left is the beauty of our natural world.

Dialogue is complicated, and the designer can hardly compete with evolution. To design behavior - to create, and control the will of another - is next to impossible, and the interaction designer finds themselves simply understanding behavior and retrofitting their designs to match. While this certainly aids in comprehension and can create usable creations, it certainly doesn't ensure designs with staying power; this sort of stay is thought of as timeless, or priceless, or simply desirable.

The artist makes a statement, a distinct argument, through their canvas or clay or metal, and the audience responds; a conversation evolves, through acceptance, or rejection, or understanding, or bewilderment. The artist has no responsibility to the audience; clarity of message is irrelevant as long as understanding of emotion is communicated. I do not understand your message, yet I understand that I do not like it; the audience is able to form opinions and actions without truly becoming intimate with the content.

The designer has a harder task. Their work is of language, and words, and meaning; they must create a design language that assists the viewer not only in experiencing the emotion but also in truly understanding the content. This understanding goes deeper than usability, as the understanding is not of function nor of goal. The comprehension must be of intent; the audience must actually realize the intentions of the designer, and embrace the culture of the language that is spoken. This is not a metaphor; the designer does not "design as language is spoken". In fact, design is language, and the linguistic quality of form and topic are spoken through form and object. The poet selects a topic and paints a vivid understanding of scene through character, time, and the beauty of the language; the product designer selects an object and forms a vivid understanding of context through shape, weight, color, and material.

The interaction designer, however, speaks both words and form at once. They structure a compelling argument and invite the audience to share in their work; the work evolves over time, and the work is completed by the presence and synthesis of the audience. User centered design, as practiced, does not give credence to the true importance of the user: the creation lays dormant until the user truly and honestly understands the beauty of what has been stated.

Interaction Design is married to language, as design is synonymous with communication. To create a compelling behavior means to have a cohesive dialogue with a person, and in order to speak with a person, we must first know, respect and understand a bit about that person. Consider the alienation that occurs in a foreign land where one does not speak the native language; the sense of anxiety, yet the embracement of possibility is the same space that a person encounters when first discovering an interaction design.

A designer does not simply create an object; the importance of understanding the long term dialogue that occurs with a product focuses around the cultural methods of use and misuse that a person engages in with this object. Consider a teddy bear; the bear becomes worn, loved, the nose bitten off, the seams begin to sag. This bear has spoken, as has the user, and the course of the dialogue has created a relationship between inanimate (albeit highly personified) object and human. The language the bear speaks are the words of emotion; we understand the bear as on object, yet we love it as a human.

Design is to communicate, and this communication is not a monolog. It is a dialogue of persuasion, and argument, and learning. Rhetorical argument implies a sense of purpose, as is demonstrated by Richard Buchanan: "Indeed, design is an art of communication on two levels: it attempts to persuade audiences not only that a given design is useful, but also that the designer's premises or attitudes and values regarding practical life or the proper role of technology are important, as well". Consider the designer who works on the next generation of cell phones, dealing with the physical form of the telephone, the material and manufacturing choices, as well as the software interface that a user encounters to perform calls. We can view this designer's communication on several levels; on a highly superficial level, we could discuss the implications of using brushed aluminum and long, slender lines to illustrate a sense of futurism and references to technology in architecture. We could delve deeper, and consider the usability of the phone - has the designer created a well structured dialogue, so the user and object can communicate efficiently and effectively? And finally, we could consider the argument the designer has made by choosing to design cellular communication at all. They may be - implicitly, obviously - making a statement concerning the benefits technology has awarded us with rapid communication across geographical boundaries. Or, the commentary may be considered more superficial: I Make Cool Things.

The communication of language can be considered on a level of content, and can also be thought of on a level of clarity. How well is the message, whatever it may be, disseminated? Has the styling been corrupted through poor materials or lost in translation as the product traveled to China to be manufactured? Does the message communicated through software make sense when viewed in light of the hardware?

Traditional programs in Design emphasize aesthetic qualities related to craft, beauty and form; the solution to the design problem is judged based on emotional value, and the judgment, or critique, is often grounded in the field of fine art. User Centered Design, however, shifts the focus from the visual to the personal; a design solution is judged based on the relevance to the individual who ultimately must use the creation. Central to understanding this principle is embracing a very simple idea, but an idea that dramatically shifts the locus of attention during the creation of goods. This idea is that The User Is Not Like Me.

When embraced by designers, this core philosophy implies that consumers are unique, and that the designer holds a bias in the form of an expert blindspot. The more we know about a topic, the more we forget what it is like to "not know".

To illustrate this point, consider an example. You are the designer working on a kiosk for a bus station; the kiosk will replace the need for constant assistance from on-staff personnel, and will allow riders to purchase tickets even during the off hours. You've designed a pretty great looking kiosk; it has a lot of features, and even allows the tracking of a complicated route with multiple destinations and layovers in various cities. The kiosk ships and slowly finds a home in various southern cities.
Now consider Martha Saltzburgh, a single mother of two who has just been displaced by the hurricane that hit the south. Before the hurricane, Martha worked at a small hotel; she worked in the office, and was responsible for nearly all of the accounting and bill paying. Martha didn't go to college; she taught herself the relevant software programs, and while she doesn't understand all of the laws and regulations she needs to follow, she prides herself on making very few mistakes. She has no extended family; she managed, quite successfully, to locate a beautiful and affordable house for her two children, but it has been destroyed in the storm. She has no renter's insurance - has never even heard of such a thing - and was living month to month prior to the disaster. Martha's credit cards were destroyed in the hurricane, as was nearly everything else she owns; she doesn�t know where she is going to take the kids. She's been told, however, that she needs to evacuate the city immediately, and the bus is the only affordable and immediate way out.

When Martha interacts with your interactive kiosk, what state of mind will she have? Will she be happy? Easy going? Does she hope that the kiosk will be riddled with features, and that she will be able to map her route in a visual manner - zooming in on various landmarks along the way, and saving her route to a personal account?

The User Is Not Like Me; in Martha's particular situation, she is about as unlike you as you may ever wish. Are you responsible for the interaction Martha has, in her unlikely and unpredictable situation? Can a designer adequately predict such catastrophes and plan for Martha to use your creation? Should a designer attempt to predict these things?

In a normal product development cycle, there are "silos" of ownership; the engineer may be responsible for the functionality of the product, and that functionality is frequently embedded in emerging technology. The engineer becomes the advocate for technology; while not necessarily proposing the latest technological advancements, the engineer remains responsible for making sure that a product is technically sound and that it functions correctly. A marketing manager may be responsible for ensuring that a brand presents a consistent and compelling image; a project manager may own the product development schedule. Each player in the development of a product has a primary focus, and has been trained to evangelize their particular world of expertise.
The interaction designer, too, takes ownership of a particular area of expertise; while engineers may be advocates for function, and marketers for brand, the interaction designer becomes an advocate for the user. This advocacy must occur on various levels of detail as a project progresses from a business goal into a tangible form.

At the beginning stages of a project, an idea may be driven solely by a business goal: increase profits; gain brand equity; disrupt a traditional channel owner. The interaction designer, if invited to discuss the project at this stage, may ask questions like "Does the user need this product at all"� This is, clearly, a philosophical question of a very high level; the right answer may be the wrong business suggestion, and interaction designers are rarely invited to discuss the project at this stage.

Further along in the process of product development, it may become apparent that particular elements of functionality are more difficult or expensive to implement. At this stage in the project, the interaction designer is responsible for forcing a dialogue of cost/benefit analysis from the perspective of the end user. How much contextual evidence is there for such an element of functionality? What is the value of a more expensive piece of technology � on a human scale, rather than a cost scale?
Finally, as a project nears completion, interaction designers are frequently called upon to consider the visual aesthetics of a solution. This detailed level of refinement gives the interaction designer a final chance to advocate for the end user - this time, on a purely aesthetic level.

If "a picture is worth a thousand words", consider the worth, in words, of a product. Are the products in your house talking? What are they saying?

The metaphor of language in product form is not new. Richard Buchanan established the notion of design as rhetoric; a product does not only speak but in fact attempts to convince; a designer makes an argument that comes alive each time a person considers their creation. We can not help but persuade, and technology is often used as smoke and mirrors to insert an empty dialogue. Form, material and function are combined to create a cohesive argument.

Shelley Evenson, along with John Rheinfrank - arguably the father of Interaction Design, as defined in this text - introduced the idea of a visual and functional language of communication with the people who use an artifact. People do not simply use our product form language; we live with it. It is the basis for how we generate and interpret our surroundings.

These definitions refer to the physical form, material and vision of an artifact. Do the products that offer a convergent view of design speak a new language? It seems that some of us - typically younger - are encouraged by the new words; to push the metaphor even farther, we can create slang, misuse words, or even invent new terms and references. The interaction designer shapes culture through the creation of a new language.

A product speaks, and the language - and content - is at the control of the interaction designer. Once a product has been created, it calls to us from the shelf; advertising turns the volume up to a scream, and of course, this seems inappropriate; while this brute force "technique" may sell used cars, the more intellectual approach - a conversation - may be what moves a product from a shelf in Target into our home. Once in our home, a product has a dialogue with us - the "users" - and with the rest of the house. Your house is alive, and each item is speaking. Are they talking to each other? Are they debating? Or are they simply trying to drown each other out, speaking louder and louder but never coming to any relevant resolution?