Designing for the human experience
The ways in which we interact with technology is changing. As designers, we should be mindful about designing for not only good user experience but to enhance the human experience. This article called ‘Designing for the human experience’ aims to capture these daily interactions with different technologies, to ask the hard questions and to start a conversation about mindful design strategies.
By the twiddling of our thumbs
In the corner of my corner office, my eyes dart from one screen to another, like a game of ping-pong.
Left to my own devices, I scroll and swipe through my day, frequently calling out to Siri to lend me her free hands. Shh, I tell my inner voice, Siri won’t hear me otherwise. I raise my voice, she talks back at me and I am continually amazed at this functional interaction. I wonder if we are trying to engage or en-gauge; she’s learning to be contextually, situationally aware, while I’m drifting away to learn and use the next big thing.
Oh, and there’s always one more thing.
I wonder if we are both alike, her and I waiting for our names to be called as we wait under the glass ceiling. We are both learning; I’m learning to ask the hard questions and she to answer them. I, as a content creator and interaction designer wonder if one day Job’s assistant and I will stand in contention for this role.
Devices however are not excused of small talk about the weather. She’s on top of the weather, as I am under it. My intern notices the strain in my voice (throat) and gets me a cup of coffee. I inturn, forget to thank my assistant. As she closes the door behind her with a thud, I ponder over the beauty of this interaction. She picked up my accented spaces between the words and listened to her own intuition. And while she spilled a little bit on my desk and messed up my calendar in the process, I smile because we are both navigators in this added messy dimension.
I allow her to be human.
Shouldn’t hands-free interactions give me one more hand to hold? I wonder as I navigate a tab with my hands-free.
Siri and I are both unsure how to answer that.
What must I learn today Question Mark ( Zuckerberg )
It is said that we are what we eat, are we what we are fed?
I go through my newsfeed, through the clutter of incessant chatter, to follow what’s news. I am connected to people as an excuse to not connect with them. The posts filling their wall, hides their doors.
Stories I have now learnt, can be both fake and true, disappearing and lasting, some having fewer characters than others. I see article over article of personal views and personal news, each screaming in the void ‘MeMe!’.
I come across a picture and I pause for a second. I ask myself if I should like it. With the thumbs up and down on my screen, I wonder if we were blessed with opposable thumbs, to uphold judgements. While I wish to browse through life mindfully, technology is pushing me to constantly react. My opinion is always asked for, is measured and delivered to someone seeking instant gratification. And as I do the same, put my photoshopped curated life on to the world’s stage, who am I to complain that you don’t know me true?
I like the photo anyways.
I see content that leaves me just that. I see more of what I agree with, less of what would make me question exactly that. “The world’s my oyster” they say, I wonder if the filter bubble is my goldfish bowl. I’m disappointed that it is so predictable what clicks with me, that my complicated mind is tapped by neural nets and seemingly neutral nets.
I feel home sick for a screen which allowed for spaces between my different interactions. I yearn for serendipitous encounters, for designs that ask my permission to have access to my time. I believe that applications should be developed not for good user experience but to enhance the human experience.
If only I could be free from this web, I would swipe right to my destiny. To disconnect so as to show up.
While I know and understand this, I still find myself going back to these apps, in this endless circle of followers and following, tagged along in interactions I rather not be a part of. And while I want to a master of my choice, I am but a creature of habit.
I question the founding principles of some of these technologies, put my foot down and say that this data is mine. I get to choose who gets to know me, who has access to my private life.
Data mine is mine I say.
Precisely, they say.
Data yours is (a) data mine.
Reflecting screens
The tired retina displays of my vacant eyes stare at a blank screen. Incessant warnings, calls for connections were ignored and I now deal with an eventual breakdown. I wonder if I should be more mindful of its mental health. I search frantically for my charging cable, a frayed wire, an enabler of loose ties. I plug it into my computer and I wonder if this what an interaction looks like today. One device connected to the other, asking permissions to access its contents.
With my need to be constantly and instantly connected, I sit right next to a power source. My phone lays there dead and I am charged with anxiety. My thumbs twiddle in anticipation as I sit in awkward silence. I am addicted to the noise of the internet. In those few moments, I am missing out on knowing what’s going on in the world. If the world has gone on without me. Up-to-date is so outdated, we now know what we are up-to the minute. In those rare minutes in my day, I look around my room. I see a book I like waiting to be read, an empty board with only pins. I see the people I share myspace with, people who are my family, my first connections.
I look at its blank screen waiting for it to shudder to life and push on to me numerous notifications. I wait to swipe to unlock my portal to the world at the touch of my fingers.
Just for a second, I wonder if only a blank screen allows for reflection.
My phone instantly lights up.