Design Matters

We love design. We love it for how it looks, how it makes us feel, and how it shapes the world around us. Here, we write about things that inspire us. Maybe they'll inspire you, too.
Feb 10
2012

Hot Dog Day!

Dags

It’s Hot Dog Day at the NA office. Buckets of Tang are ready, mystery meat awaits steamage. We’ve got the classic condiments, 40 buns, and one designer that insists on veggie dogs so she can “eat burgers tonight” which absolutely nobody is cool with. Nobody.

Oct 31
2011

Introducing Nest – The iPod of Thermostats

I never thought a thermostat would be something that I’d be proud to put on my wall. Tony Fadell, former Apple employee who oversaw eighteen generations of the iPod, recently announced The Nest Learning Thermostat.

After about a week of usage, Nest learns your behavioural patterns and begins to adjust automatically to the appropriate temperature levels. It has a combination of sophisticated sensors and algorithms that allows it to create a personalized schedule that adapts to your changing life. For instance, its 150° wide-angle activity sensors know when to set the device to “Auto-Away.” Its sensors detect your approach and adjust its light accordingly. Its Wi-Fi compatibility tracks current weather conditions to help it better understand how the outside temperature affects your energy usage. Another awesome feature is that with Wi-Fi and an internet connection at home, you can monitor and adjust the temperature in real-time from anywhere using a laptop, smartphone or tablet.

The ability to program a thermostat to reduce heating or cooling while away from home can significantly cut your heating and cooling bill. Fadell has told several publications that users can expect to cut off all the way up to 30% off of their utility bills.

And it doesn’t end there. In addition to its intelligence, it is also an elegantly stylish piece.

“If you don’t make it look beautiful, people don’t cherish it”, Fadell told Wired Magazine.

It’s aesthetic is clean and simple — just the way we like it. It consists of a round shape with a stainless steel ring along the perimeter that acts as a dial which you can rotate to increase or decrease the temperature and a bright LCD screen that turns blue when cooling and red when it’s heating. A small leaf icon subtly indicates users toward energy efficient settings.

Personally, I feel that this is a great idea and I hope to see this product become very successful. Apple is one of the many companies that has taught us the importance of strong design through their products. It warms my heart to see other companies adopting this motive and bringing good design into every day mundane objects such as a thermostat.

Cheers to yet another example of beautiful design – taking over the world one product at a time.

Check out the introductory video.

May 10
2011

Falling in love with design

What is the value of beauty? That’s a philosophical question we may not ever be able to answer, but in an interesting study out of University College London, they found that looking at famous, and ostensibly “beautiful” works of art stimulated the same neurological response as falling in love.

Subjects were shown paintings including The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, Bathing at La Grenouillere by Claude Monet (above) and Constable’s Salisbury Cathedral. Professor Semir Zeki, the neurologist leading the research, noted that there was an instant increase in blood flow to areas of the brain usually associated with romantic love, triggering a dopamine response.

“There have been very significant new advances in our understanding of what happens in our brains when we look at works of art,” he said.”We have recently found that when we look at things we consider to be beautiful, there is increased activity in the pleasure reward centres of the brain. There is a great deal of dopamine in this area, also known as the ‘feel-good’ transmitter. Essentially, the feel-good centres are stimulated, similar to the states of love and desire. The reaction was immediate.”

So what does all that mean? I’m not a neuroscientist, but if I were to simplify all of this into one sentence: Looking at pretty things makes you feel good.

I’m not sure we needed science to tell us that, but there it is.

So what does that mean for design? Well, I’m not sure you can replace The Birth of Venus with a FedEX logo and get the same response, but I think the basic principle remains the same. We have a natural physiological reaction to beauty, and though there is no mention of it in the article, I’m going to assume we have a similar negative reaction to ugly.

The advertising industry has always known that they can create emotion through advertising – it’s their bread and butter. But somehow, that idea that imagery and text can be powerful is often forgotten by businesses whose only concern is safe design and make the logo bigger, and the cottage industry of amateur designers who have cropped up to serve those clients.

This isn’t a clarion call to achieve fine art status in every insurance company website we design, but rather food for thought. We can create real emotional reaction to our work by aiming higher and exchanging “safe” for “beautiful” when we’re conceptualizing. If nothing else, this study should give us a real, tangible reason for aiming higher in our work.

Apr 04
2011

Design is not a democracy

There are a few things people have said to me over my career in advertising that have stuck with me. One of those things is something that my first boss when I started out as a lowly account coordinator was “Business is not a democracy.”

It’s an important point, and certainly one that needed to be made to me as a 20-year old kid who was too smart for my own good, but not smart enough to realize it. Businesses are the very antithesis of democracy – for the most part, they have a singular goal, and are lead by one person or body. Decisions are made not by the will of the people who work there, but by what will bring the business unit closer to that goal.

Now, let’s consider the design process.  I’ve seen many examples of companies that attempt to bring every conceivable opinion into the design process just to make sure nobody feels left out or that nothing gets missed.  I.T. needs to make sure of one thing, H.R. needs more space, P.R. and marketing have different ideas of what needs to happen, and someone on the board saw something on another site that “we need to have.” I’ve even seen organizations present design comps to their entire membership for feedback. It ended predictably.

While this type of radical inclusion may make you want to sing Kumbaya around a campfire, it’s also the most likely culprit for bad design. As soon as you start incorporating feedback from anyone with an opinion, the design process starts to rot. As one of the advertising greats, Hal Riney put it, “I’d rather deal with a tyrant than a committee any day. Committees are there to spread blame, not take chances.”

That’s not to say that different points of view aren’t valuable. Even the most despotic of dictator has trusted advisors. This advice is invaluable in the discovery phase of the project, and multiple points of view often force you to reframe the problem. But – and here’s the important bit – when it comes to design, someone needs to be in charge. Strong decisions make good design – compromises do not.

Of course, the goal of this is to be a benevolent dictator – not a tyrant. Your responsibility is still to your end users, who vote through their actions if not their words. The metrics you collect will tell you what they’re voting for by showing you what’s popular and what’s not.  If you’re basing your decisions on the wants of anyone other than the will of your people, you’re playing politics. In the real world, that’s a recipe for a revolution – but you’re not dealing with subjects, you’re dealing with customers. It’s unlikely they’ll start a movement- they’ll just move on.

Mar 10
2011

Design Wants vs. User Needs

I try to make as much time for events as I can, to meet interesting people, to listen to people with different points of view and to generally squeeze as much juice out of my mind grapes as I can.  One of the events I always enjoy, and I’m not just saying this because I happen to organize it, too, is Social Media Breakfast Ottawa.

Since we started the event, we’ve intentionally strayed away from social media because while there’s a lot to be said about social media, there is only so many times you can hear it.  As a result, we’ve tried to draw from a different group of speakers with varying backgrounds to shape how we think about digital marketing in general.

Today’s speaker – David Nicholson – spoke about game theory, and the “gameification” of business. It was a great talk with a lot of interesting tidbits, but as is usually the case, the most interesting moment of the talk for me came over dinner the night before.

While discussing the new landscape of game development, David mentioned that online game developers are spending huge dollars on data analysts to guide the development of their games. For giants like Farmville or Frontierville, the entire job is to take a loss leader (the game) and generate money through virtual goods, which means that creating the best game dynamic in the world, the best new level, the best twist on gameplay doesn’t matter in the least unless it drives the desired action. If your users don’t use it, it’s a waste of time, plain and simple… even if you think they should use it the way you lovingly crafted it for them.

Think about how we create websites – how we create experiences – for our users, our customers, our members. More often than not, we create based on how we want people to use our site, rather than how they actually use it.

The reason is because humans are hard-wired to seek pleasure and avoid pain.  It feels good to make the logo bigger, to add more calls-to-action and make sure that there are lots of links to our website in all of our emails, but how much does that actually move the bottom line?

Conversely, poring over data, challenging our assumptions and listening to our customers is hard work and can tell us we’re doing the wrong thing, that we don’t understand what our users want, and make us feel bad and bad at our job.

The trick is that the games industry relies on these changes to directly impact the bottom line. They don’t get paid unless their experience generates the right behaviour to make dollar signs happen. Marketing is closely related to the bottom line, but the path from A to B is far more circuitous, so we’re much freer to indulge our marketing id, and ignore the marketing superego who’s just begging you to spend a little more time looking at your analytics.

Before you can create great design, you need to know where you want it to lead, and how you’ll know when you get there. You can choose to be finished anytime you like – the question is whether you wait until you’re happy or until your users are happy.

Feb 04
2011

Sign of hotness

Feb 01
2011

The importance of polish

Hi I’m Rene, and I’m the right-brain of this operation (read: I hate numbers). Apologies for not posting something earlier, but I’ve been busy rubbing Pantone swatch books all over myself while listening to Arcade Fire. Okay, that’s not true, but it sounds like something a designer should do.

So back to the topic at hand; polish, and the importance thereof. It’s the thing that makes a good designer a great one, especially when one wants to get all minimalist with it (which is kind of the mandate these days, especially in the realm of UI). Polish in design is about the little things; the way blocks of text line up, the absence of stray pixels, the consistency of it all, and so importantly, the complete lack of spelling mistakes.

A few weeks ago, I was out for a Beau’s with a good friend / teacher of design, and we got to talking about the quality of work from his students this year. He had a lot of great things to say about them and one student in particular was producing some killer work. He tells me the story of being asked by this student to check out his latest work. What he was shown was an excellent, inspiring piece of design – but there was a typo in it.

So he says to his student:

“Picture the chef of a Michelin-star restaurant. The chef toils in his kitchen over every last detail. The onions are diced a fine brunoise; the sauce is perfectly reduced; the duck has just the right amount of sear. It took weeks of conceptualizing to make the dish perfect. It took a full day of prep, and a final hour to cook perfectly and plate.

There are some important guests waiting for this meal. They’re excited. They’ve heard great things about the restaurant and they’re paying a lot to try this chef’s food.

Finally, the waiter arrives with the chef’s masterpiece and sets it in front of the guests – and sitting right in the middle of all of that hard work, is a big, curly pube.

A typo in your work is like a pube in your food. It instantly ruins it. Don’t show me your pubes.”


And that’s why we’re friends.

Jan 27
2011

Everyone’s a critic

As human beings, the one skill that we all share from the day we’re born until the day we die is knowing what we like, and more importantly, what we don’t like.  To some degree, what we regard as personal preferences is actually pure, hard-wired biology.  Whether it’s the fact that we generally dislike bitter flavours because instinctively we know that they can be an indication of poison, or that gentlemen prefer blondes because it’s easier to spot genetic defects or illness in someone with a light complexion, the reality is that most of us know what we like, but we have no idea why we like it.

People like to say that being a critic is easy, but that assumes that all criticisms are equally valid – a point that couldn’t be further from the truth.  As a matter of fact, being able to describe what you like or dislike about a given thing is such a highly specialized skill set, that it’s often a highly paid and respected profession.  Consider the film critic, whose sole job is to discern whether something is good or bad, and provide specific reasons and illistrations to back up his one- to five-star rating.  Likewise the restaurant critic, who, before he or she can say if the scallop ceviche at a particular restaurant is above or below average, must have tasted several others, must know what to look for in the flavour profile, must understand all of the elements of flavour in a dish, and from all of these hundreds of seemingly unquantifiable data points, produce a concise report of what is objectively good or bad about the dish, and publish it for the world to see.

Everyone’s a critic, but most of us aren’t very good at it.

The main difference between our personal preferences and that of a professional critic is the ability to synthesize all of these points of data coherently. Our preferences are nebulous, can change depending on our current situation, and are completely and utterly subjective. Complete objectivity of opinion may not be philosophically possible, but we put more stock in the opinions of the critic because they are more than just personal preferences.  They’re based on a rubric of evaluation material that can be objectively compared and contrasted based on a breadth of experience greater than your own.

This breadth of experience is the key to understanding our own limitations as evaluators, and explains how one person can take great joy in going to Red Lobster, while someone who grew up near the ocean would consider it punishment. We can only evaluate our preferences based on our own experience – without that experience, we’re evaluating on a completely different scale.

If you were to set out five different wines ranging in price from $5 to $1000 and offered them blind to a sommelier and asked him which he preferred, he would likely choose the most expensive and explain that it was because of its bouquet, its flavour, finish and typicity. He would likely be able to discern flavours that you couldn’t – or perhaps couldn’t until it was mentioned to you. Take those same five wines and give them to a five year old (note: please don’t give wine to 5-year olds – especially a $1000 bottle. It would be irresponsible and a waste of wine) and chances are he would pick the one that tasted the most like grape juice.

Criticism is a double-edged sword. If we accept sound criticism, it can make us better, regardless of what we’re creating. On the other hand, amateur criticism can easily ruin a great piece of work – whether you’re making a logo or a soufflé.  The worst designers in the world are both those who accept every piece of feedback, and those who ignore every piece of feedback.

As a creator, your job is to be an expert and to be able to differentiate good advice from bad.  If you don’t ignore the critics, or at the very least educate them as to why their feedback may not be moving the project in the right direction, you’re no longer a creator – you’re an order taker. For creators, neglecting our duties as experts ensures that we will never create anything great – because everything we build will just taste like grape juice.

Jan 10
2011

Who are you talking to?

On the surface, it seems like a bit of a stupid question. Of course, your site is for your customers – you know that intrinsically. You’re a marketer – that’s what you do.

But are you really following through on that obvious answer?

The freedom of the web is a double-edged sword. It’s not limited by page count or printing costs, it doesn’t have to fit on a tabloid sheet, and it doesn’t have to be read from a moving vehicle at 100 yards.  In theory, your website has no limits, but with this lack of boundaries comes the need for restraint, and bad design emerges from companies/marketers/agencies feel they need to make use of every single byte by including anything that anyone would ever come to the website for – corporate memos, annual reports – everything. Why not, right?

Here’s the problem – if you make your site for everyone, you’re really making it for no one.

Recently, a friend of mine, who was working on an extremely high-level government site with a number of pages about the organizaton’s Director told me a story of being in a meeting with the client and saying, “someone needs to tell this guy that this site isn’t his Facebook page.”

The joke went over poorly, but the point is sound. The first step in developing a digital content strategy is going back to the core of your marketing – who are you talking to? You can segment, of course, but realistically, you can only effectively segment to a few audiences on one site, and that’s only with really excellent design to guide the user down the right path.

The reality is that your digital strategy cannot be all things to all people. Websites are not junk drawers – they are business tools, and if any part of your site is not advancing your business goals, you need to lose it.

You can always post it on Facebook.

Jan 05
2011

Paving the horse trails

If you’ve ever been to an old city and tried to navigate through its downtown, you know intuitively what “paving the horse trails” means.  Ottawa, bless its heart, is home to a downtown that is a mess of narrow one-way streets, and no less than four unconnected Wellington Streets.  The result is painful to navigate at the best of times, and chaos at the worst.

The reason for this, in part, is because at the time when we decided to make the big jump from colony to capital city, there was no need for anything more.  The population was less than 1% what it is today, and since cars didn’t, well – exist, it was hard to plan for them.

Earlier in the millenium, the web was made up of horse trails – loosely connected conduits of HTML pages. We had no idea that incredibly powerful tools like Youtube and Facebook were about to dominate the web. Marketers had to make it up as they went along, compromising for people still on dial-up connections, and the idea that software would one day allow us to manage huge dynamic websites for practically nothing wasn’t even on the radar.

But even now, in 2011, some of us are still building sites based on that outdated way of thinking and basing decisions on the decisions of the past. Worse, some are spending considerable amounts of money to revise websites without getting down to the very foundation of site’s architecture. Shiny new design is draped over a rotting infrastructure, and while the site may look better, it’s still fundamentally broken.  The result is a site that’s painful to navigate at the best of times, and chaos at the worst.

That’s what happens when you pave the horse trails.