Users do not care about what is inside the box, as long as the box does what they need done. (Jef Raskin)

Think of your car. If you’re like me, you know that you put the key in the ignition, you start the thing, and you drive somewhere. Oh, sure, there are some other details – turning signals, reverse, headlights, filling the thing up, taking it in to get the oil changed ... But that’s pretty much it.

I can’t remember the last time I opened the hood. Actually, I do!. But it was only because something was wrong. My battery had run out, and I had to get a AAA mechanic to come give it a charge. I opened the hood for him, then peeked inside. Yeah, I could make out a few items – the battery, the air filter (which I never change), maybe the windshield washer fluid, perhaps the radiator cap …

Honestly, though, I’m not a mechanic. I just care that the thing takes me where I want to go. 

Now, here’s the thing. As a user researcher, you may very well work with a bunch of mechanics. This goes without saying when it comes to the developers. I’m always kind of amazed, though, how interested designers, and business owners, and even content types are in technology in general and the inner workings of whatever they happen to be working on in particular.

If you think about it, though, they kind of have to. They really can’t help themselves. If they’re going to produce something, they have to care about the nuts and bolts, they have to get involved in the details.

User researchers, on the other hand, often stand a little apart from that. Our identification is primarily with the user. And the typical user is not the mechanic type, but really just someone who wants to buy a book, transfer some money, stream a video, reserve a plane ticket …

And what that all means when working with your team of “mechanics” is several things. First, there is the advocacy aspect. I find personas really work great here, but simply speaking up and getting teams back on track in general can be really useful. Another important thing to do is to occasionally bring up the idea of mental models – in particular, what they are, that users have them, and that the team’s mental models will tend to be a lot different than the users’. A final idea relates to pushback. I’m always a little amazed when I hear developers say that they can’t do a modal here, or that a table would be too much work there. I often think it’s a knee-jerk reaction, and the team really needs to orient less around what’s difficult for them and more around what’s good for the user.

For, in the end, your user base is going to be a ton more people who really just want to do the online equivalent of getting to work, or going shopping, or picking up the kids from soccer practice. Anything beyond that – or anything that gets in the way of that – may be of interest to a lot fewer users than the team might think.

Jef is mainly known as the guy who created the first Mac

(and, I guess, whatever weird thing that is on his head)

If the standard is lousy, then develop another standard. (Edward Tufte)

Standards are good. Heck, standards are great!

They should not, however, be set in stone. The world changes, people change, technology changes. New data comes in, old theories are disproven, new ones arise. 

That something violated a standard should never be the end of discussion. I’ve run into plenty of instances where a standard might be out of date, or perhaps whoever put the standard together didn’t have all the information, or maybe the standard applies in 90% of the situations but definitely not in this particular one, or even that theory got in the way of actual data.

Indeed, that last point is a particularly important one. For me at least, these issues typically come up, not in some general philosophical discussion, but as the result of actual user research. So, if a test tells me that some standard got in the way of my users and their goals, I think it’s worth pointing out. Now, the reasons for the original standard may indeed still win out, but I definitely think it’s worth bringing up and talking about. And this is especially the case, if it comes up on not just one test, but multiple ones, or – heck! – one right after the other.

Case in point. My company likes to put FAQs on the right rail. In fact, we’ve got a standard for it! 

What I’ve been noticing lately, though, is that users tend to miss them when they’re over there. Those same users also point out that they typically expect to see them at the bottom of the page (and also that they really do value FAQs).

In other words, there already seems to be a standard out there. Perhaps we shouldn’t be reinventing the wheel here, folks. Perhaps we should take a look at that old standard and see if we might want to tweak it a little.

Honestly, what are the point of standards? Now, a lot of designers will point to efficiencies, saving time and effort, not endlessly hashing things over … as well as presenting a nice, clean look to the world. 

For me, though, it’s all about the user. Standards help users take a complex online world and make it a little more predictable. Whether internal (within your site) or external (with all the other sites out there), standards are crucial in making your design adhere to that classic user adage from Steve Krug, “Don’t make me think!” 

Data don’t generate theory – only researchers do that. (Henry Mintzberg)

Data doesn’t speak for itself. In fact, data can be sometimes used like a ventriloquist’s dummy – parroting whatever the ventriloquist wants to say. It takes someone with some real skill to get the data to really talk. And a lot of hard work as well.

Now, data alone will tell you that something did indeed happen. That, though, is kind of like learning that your car won’t go. Well, why won’t it go? What can you do to make it go again?

So, say the completion rate on your account opening process is below 10%. That’s good to know. Doesn’t sound too good either, does it? So, what would actually be your next step here?

Well, one thing would be to dig even further into the data. You might, for example, find out that certain users have less trouble than others. You might also find out that most people drop out on step x. Who knows, there might be even certain times of day when people are more or less successful. Honestly, though, your options will be limited. Web analytics are great for straight-up, high-level numbers. What those actually mean when you get down to it, however, can be another thing altogether.

Another possibility – and a very popular one I might be add – would be conjecture. Heck, that’s all A/B testing is when you really get down it.

A third idea, though, would be to get better data. And that’s why I’m always pressing for qualitative research. Usability tests, ethnography, in-depth interviews, even focus groups can get at some of those thorny why questions. 

In fact, good qualitative data, along with some serious analysis, will start to get at why’s that don’t apply just to the particular project you’re working on, but to multiple projects over time, and in multiple different situations. Throw in a little more explication, maybe a metaphor, and – and hey presto – you’ve got yourself a theory! 

Dang! – my kind of management consultant

“Data” is not the plural of “anecdote.” (Brian Clegg)

As a qualitative researcher, I have to be really careful here. On the one hand, I do not have the data that the web analytics folks and the A/B testing guys and the data scientists have. At the same time, though, I’ve got a lot more than just anecdotes.

First, I do have some numbers. No, they’re not thousands and thousands, or even hundreds and hundreds, but they are more than your own personal data point, or what you heard from a friend or family member or your hair stylist. 

Second, what I have is indeed data. In particular, it is not just opinion. Now, that’s not to say I don’t have respect for your opinion. It might, indeed, be a very well-informed opinion. But it’s still an opinion.

What I can bring to the table is actual behavior, as well as verbalizations of thought processes. And with these coming from real, live users, trying to complete genuine, honest-to-goodness tasks. So, very different from some management types taking a gander at a screen in a conference room and wondering if the “green pops enough” or thinking that “the content doesn’t really speak to me.”

Third, the data that I have tends to be very rich. And that is, indeed, why I feel I don’t necessarily need hundreds and hundreds of data points. 

Now, if what I was trying to get at was more marketing related (How many people would be interested in this product? How much are they willing to pay? Which of these ads are people more likely to click on?), I’d be all about the numbers. What I’m dealing with, though, is whether something’s going to fly or not. 

And you don’t need a lot of numbers for that. You simply don’t need a ton of people to tell you that they have no clue what to put in field X, or that that description makes no sense, or that the CTA is impossible to find – when they actually show and tell you that themselves. If you didn’t have those rich verbalizations though, you might never figure out why you’re getting such poor data, or why no seems to get beyond screen X, or why people seem to be signing up for the wrong product.

Sure, you can speculate on why these things are happening and what the numbers might actually mean. Usability testing, though, will get you the real answers, giving you that very important why along with the how much.

Brian Clegg is an English writer specializing in explaining abstruse science to lay folks

Design Thinking is the designer's version of Agile. It’s becoming cult like. (Bill Killam)

Robert Jay Lifton is a psychologist famous for his seminal work on brainwashing and cults. He’s known, in particular, for an eight-point definition of what actually constitutes a cult. One of those points relates to language:

Loading the Language – The group interprets or uses words and phrases in new ways so that often the outside world does not understand.

When I was initially exposed to Agile, this was one of the first things that struck me. Why call a meeting a “meeting,” when you can call it a “ceremony”? Why call a schedule a “schedule,” when you can call it a “timebox”? Why call a chart a “chart,” when you can call it an “information radiator”?

I noticed something similar with Design Thinking – “ideation,” “MVP,” “bodystorming,” “divergence/convergence,” “culture probes,” “How might we?” … 

Now, every new way of thinking really does need some new terms. Sometimes, though, these terms serve other purposes entirely. They can, for example, separate an in-crowd from everyone else. They might also be used to enforce a certain way of thinking (words can and do shape thoughts) or even stop thinking entirely.

Finally, they can also take existing ideas and make them sound fresh. You know, old wine in new bottles.

And Design Thinking is a little different from Agile in that last regard. Agile really does involve some new ideas and thinking – especially when contrasted with waterfall. Design Thinking, on the other hand, sounds a lot like good, old-fashioned user-centered design, at least to me. Yeah, there are a few different emphases – getting the whole team involved, that divergence/convergence thing – but really it should sound pretty familiar to anyone who’s been in the biz more than just overnight.

It’s actually a fairly common practice in business – take somebody else’s ideas, rebrand it, own it, market it, and cash in. If you get people to get so excited about it that it approaches cult status, well, even better!

Bill is president of User-Centered Design, an adjunct professor at George Mason, and has been in the biz for 30+ years

If I had one hour to solve a problem, I’d spend 55 minutes thinking about the problem and five minutes thinking about the solution. (Albert Einstein)

And that’s because coming up with a solution will only take 5 minutes once you fully understand the problem. Believe me, I run into it all the time.

Take usability reports, for example. For these, it’s almost always the case that I’ve actually spent a ton of time with each issue. I’ve listened to hours of tapes, I’ve sifted through tons of notes, I’ve rearranged quotes and behaviors in multiple buckets, I’ve struggled with ways to understand what exactly what was going on, I've struggled to get some persepective from a higher level … The reports do indeed write themselves.

And that’s also why I almost always include suggestions in my reports. I figure if I’ve spent that much time thinking about something, I’ve probably got some good ideas already on how it might be fixed. And seeing that I’ve been doing this for 30+ years, this is probably not the first time I’ve run across that issue either.

I do get pushback sometimes though. Indeed, designers tend to be a bit touchy when you “tell them what to do.” Now, I can definitely understand that. Personally, I hate it when clients come to me with a demand for one method over another without first talking about what they actually want feedback on. 

So, what I typically do is call it a “suggestion” and say that it just occurred naturally as I was writing up the report and that you can take it or leave it. I mean, it’s all supposed to be a collaborative effort anyway, right? Heck, I really don’t care if you claim the solution as your own. All I really want is that the issue is addressed somehow, or even that the team has thought about addressing the issue but have good reasons (business, standards, whatever) for not doing so. 

Interestingly, I also get similar feedback from the occasional user researcher. They typically say something about being above the fray, staying unbiased, focusing on the issues, etc. Personally, I think it’s something of a cop-out.

I mean, honestly … You’ve spent hours on this stuff. You’ve probably even seen it before on other tests. Heck, you might even have a design background yourself. Why not throw something out there – to at least get the conversation started and stake out a place at the table? 

Einstein also said:

• "Make everything as simple as possible, but not simpler."
• "If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough."
• "Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts."

I like it simple when I’m doing complicated things. (One of my users)

I had always heard this one a little differently – in particular, “Make simple things simple and complex things possible.” I think this user is really on to something though.

This particular user was talking about a complex field – securities trading. I forget what exactly he was trying to do, but there are plenty of crazy trades investors can make out there. Take options, for example. Would you believe you can do strangles, condors, iron butterflies, naked spreads …?  Indeed, you can – I am not making this stuff up!

Now, what I think he was getting at – i.e., what he was trying to tell me, a seasoned user researcher – was that he was trying to combine two bits of cognitive load. First was the particular trade he was trying to do. Second was trying to translate that into something on the particular UI he was staring at. Wow, that’s a lot!

Now, “making simple things simple and complex things possible” would really mean just providing him with the functionality to make that particular trade possible. Is it really okay to just leave it at that though? Isn’t there something else we could do for him?

Now, I do realize that that original quote was really directed at not designing for the exception. But I do like to go one step further in cases like these. And that’s to suggest a wizard.

So, instead of just saying, “Have at it,” what I like to do is engage the user in a bit of conversation. Before I can do that, though, I have to get a real feel of what that conversation’s really all about and all the places where it might lead.

And that’s why I always suggest some pretty heavy-duty task analysis before undertaking anything even remotely like this. What are the actual steps? What are the different options the user has? What is their ultimate goal? Doing that allows you to lay out the conversation in a way so that it all makes sense to the user and actually appears manageable to them. 

And that goes whether you’re really creating a wizard, or are instead doing a chatbot, a dynamic form, or simply laying out a form or set of screens in a logical way …  or, really, doing anything where the user may be struggling with the task already – let alone trying to make sense of your UI. Indeed, don’t think of it as creating x, y, or z, but as reducing cognitive load, maybe even helping fashion a mental model.

In so many words … Don’t just throw it at them, like a maze! Go out of your way to help them make their way through it – like the incredible wizard that you are!

Just in case you thought I was making that stuff up