Designers are reasonable people. They spend a lot of time dealing with user interfaces so they have an intuitive knowledge of how things work on the web.
“That’s common sense!” they tell themselves. Only it’s not common sense. It’scommon knowledge to you, the designer. You spend a significant amount of time in this environment, so you just get it.
You’re a professional. Users? Not so much. This is why these assumptions are so devastating. We assume the users:
See the problem? These assumptions are reasonable. Most designers have made these assumptions. And therein lies the problem. These assumptions aren’t based in reality.
Your job as a designer is to direct and thin the herd. Sort out those who are right for you, move them through your process, and get them to the finish line. Everyone else should be shown the door.
Design for the user. Design for the user! Over the years this piece of advice has been beaten into our heads. We’re told to focus on the needs of the user, to design things for and around them.
It’s a terrible idea.
“Why?”, you ask? Because this advice is often handed out indiscriminately. Users aren’t synonymous with target audience. The users interacting with your design aren’t always the “users” you want.
Take Google for example. They focus the vast majority of their attention on their users. Who do they consider their “user”? Searchers. They focus huge amounts of their time and many billions of dollars on making things better for searchers.
Are those the only “users” they have? No, actually. As it turns out, they have several kinds of them.
Google’s user experience is focused almost entirely on their users. The user experience excludes, to a certain degree, the people (or bots) who aren’t on that list.
If you’re an advertiser spamming searchers, you’re removed. If you’re a bot scrapping content from their search results, you’re blocked. Google goes out of their way to ruin the user experience for those who conflict with their goals.
I know, I know, the intention behind “design for the user” was supposed to focus designer attention on their target audience. But that’s something many, many designers miss, which leads to…
When it comes to design, “friction” is a resistance to any element in the process you’ve laid out.
Designers are conditioned to believe user friction is bad. Users won’t do what we want them to do if we don’t design things properly. That tends to scare us a bit.
All websites need friction.
What do you do if you’re listening to music and it’s too loud? You turn it down, right? Same thing with friction. Friction is a volume dial of sorts. Turn it up or down to adjust the users you attract.
Here’s how other websites have used friction.
Friction is a problem for designers. They either don’t know how to adjust the dial to attract the users they want or they don’t know the dial exists. This means they’re either prone to overreacting or they’re chronically abused.
But what does that look like?
Friction comes in all shapes and sizes, but it’s something many designers struggle to wrap their heads around.
Avoiding this UX mistake requires lots of courage. But it also requires something more important: a clear understanding of the goal.
That piece you’re designing, what is it supposed to accomplish? The website you’re developing, what’s the goal?
And the reason it’s mandatory? Your boss, the committee, a client, someone in charge is going to demand that you go against that goal. What’s worse is that you know what’s going to happen.
Your experience tells you this won’t end well. If you give them what they want things won’t go as well as it should. It may fail miserably. It’s easy to go along with the boss. “They’re the ones signing the checks, I just do as I’m told.”
It’s important that you fight for your boss, even when they refuse to fight for themselves. If they’re asking you for something that will hurt them, speak up. Deliver the bad news. Get them to understand the mistake they’re making.
Most designers won’t do it. They’re afraid they’ll lose their job or hurt their career. Which is exactly what will happen if you say nothing. How do I know? Experience. Those mistakes are probably going to end up in your portfolio. A habit of not speaking up means your portfolio will be filled with mediocre work.
And the A-player employers, the kind you’d love to work with? They can tell. Make enough of these mistakes and it becomes difficult to hide.