Donald A. Norman

Preface to the second edition

"Norman's Doors"

“I just found Norman's door. It's really hard to open it."

I became famous for hard-to-open doors, obscure switches, and shower faucets. Pretty much anything that creates unnecessary trouble is named “Norman stuff” after me by some journalists: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman faucets.

This is not exactly what I was aiming for when I started writing the book. I wanted to use my ideas to advocate good design for things that we could use with a smile on our faces. Without thick instructions and outside help. Alas. For years I have studied the human brain, memory, attention, learning ability and motor control - only to be remembered at the sight of bad doors.

And yet I got my way. Too many things in our world are designed, released and forced on us without understanding or even caring about how we will use them. The definition of "Norman's door" indicates an oversight on the part of the designer, which is what I tried to show in the book. I rejoice in the letters that I receive and in which I find new examples. I rejoice in the appearance of beautiful things.

I rejoice that many designers require their subordinates to read The Design of Everyday Things. This book has become popular. So show me more “Norman stuff”: doors, faucets, food packages that can only be opened with your teeth. Show me more car stereos like the one in my car, with rows of tiny identical buttons that are hard to hit while driving.

These issues may seem trivial, but they often make the difference between joy and sorrow. The principles that govern the performance of simple and familiar things also apply to complex systems, including those in which human lives are at stake. Most disasters are attributed to human error, which is almost 100% the result of poor design. The principles on which quality, user-friendly design should be based not only make it easier to use, they can save lives.

Hidden disappointments

Prior to writing this book, I worked in the field of cognitive science and was interested in the human brain. I studied human perception, memory and attention. I watched how people learn, how they work. Over time, I developed an interest in human error. I hoped that by understanding the essence of these mistakes, I could teach others to avoid them. Just at that time there was an accident at the American nuclear power plant Three Miles Island, and I found myself in a group of psychologists who were to find out why the controllers made such a terrible mistake. To my surprise, we came to the conclusion that they were not to blame: the responsibility for what happened lay with the design of the control room. The control panels at many nuclear power plants do look like they were made specifically to make the controller make a mistake.

Interest in these kinds of incidents led me to study methods to help eliminate them. During my year-long vacation, which I spent in Cambridge at the world famous department of applied psychology, I was often surprised and upset at the sight of design flaws. I could not figure out which switches were responsible for lighting in the classrooms. It was the same with the doors. Some had to be pushed, others had to be pulled, and at least one had to be pushed back, without their appearance giving any clues. The water faucets were no better either. On some sinks, the hot water valve was on the left, on the other - on the right. Moreover, when employees made a mistake using these devices, they blamed themselves. Why?

I began to observe how the people around me managed to cope with the devices that flooded our lives. Later, my research expanded into aviation safety, industrial plants, medical bugs, and a wide range of consumer products such as computers and electrical household appliances. And everywhere I saw frustrated and confused users. To make matters worse, serious accidents were commonly cited as "human error". Careful analysis showed that often the culprit was poor design or improper assembly of equipment. Designers and installers did not pay enough attention to the needs of users, so misunderstandings and mistakes were almost inevitable. Whether it was a stove or a nuclear power plant, a car or an airplane, a heater or a computer, users faced the same problems. In all cases, design flaws led to subjective errors.

The frustration that haunted me in the UK led me to write The Design of Everyday Things, but the issues that I touched upon in the book are universal for all countries and continents. At the time of writing it, I was particularly interested in the principles of human cognition. And suddenly I realized that I was literally fascinated by how these principles could be applied in order to improve the quality of life and avoid many mistakes and accidents. I changed the direction of my research and focused on the use of objects and their design. Just at that time, I was granted a year off from the university, so I could devote myself fully to my work. I worked at Apple Computer and after a while became vice president of high technology. To apply my ideas as widely as possible, I became the CEO of two other companies and founded a consulting firm (Nielsen Norman Group) with a colleague Jacob Nielsen. I took great pleasure in seeing how the principles of familiar things were brought to life.

Book Title: Design Lesson

This book has been published under two titles. The first, The Psychology of Ordinary Things, was more liked by my scientist friends. The second, The Design of Everyday Things, better reflected the essence of the book. The editor explained to me that in stores, readers, wandering around the bookshelves with their eyes, pay attention first of all to headings and, based on them, form their own opinion about books. In addition, I noticed that the presence of the word "psychology" led to the fact that the book was placed in the psychological section, which was usually visited by readers who were interested in the relationship between people, and not between a person and objects. Readers who were interested in design rarely looked into the psychological department. I went to bookstores and watched the customers. I spoke with the sellers. My editor was right: I should have replaced the word "psychology" with the word "design". When I titled the book, I was as nearsighted as designers who invent devices that are awkward to use! In choosing the first title, I catered to myself personally and did not take into account the perception of readers. So now you are holding the Design of Everyday Things in your hands.

Lessons in this book

If you have difficulty using certain items, such as doors, computers, or switches, it is not your fault. Don't beat yourself up. It's all the designer's fault. This is the fault of technology, or, more precisely, design.

If we see an object for the first time, how can we know what to do with it? How do we deal with tens of thousands of objects, many of which we encounter only once in a lifetime? These questions inspired me to write this book. I very quickly realized that the answers to them were the hints embedded in the design. Thus, the information should be located not only in the head, but also in the surrounding world.

When I wrote the book, this idea was considered a little strange. Today she is a success. Many developers have recognized the fact that design should tell what the device is for, how it works, what can be done with it, and - through feedback - what happens to it at a certain moment. Design is communication, which involves a deep understanding by the developer of the person with whom he communicates through design.

Although there are many topics covered in The Design of Everyday Things, there are three main ones.

1. This is not your fault. If anything has become popular lately, it's this simple thought: if you're having trouble with something, it's not your fault, it's the design's fault. Every week I receive letters and emails from readers thanking me for saving them from feeling incompetent.

2. Design principles. I have made it a rule never to criticize anything until I can offer some solution. The book covers several key design principles that developers can use to make their creations understandable and usable. Here are the main ones. (Note that although they are simple, they are very important.)

conceptual model. The human brain is an amazing organ. With its help, we try to find meaning in all the events that take place around us. Our biggest frustration is trying to learn how to do something that seems completely random and inconsistent. Even worse, we often make mistakes when we don't understand something. Let's take a heater. When a person enters the house and feels that it is cold there, in order to heat the air in the rooms as soon as possible, he usually turns on the device to the maximum. This decision follows from the internal conceptual model of the heater operation. This is a convenient and understandable model, although somewhat ill-conceived. And erroneous. But how can a person know this? Although this model is not suitable for a room heater, it perfectly reflects the operation of most car heaters: they need to be turned on at full power, and when the temperature rises to the required level, the heat is reduced. To understand how a device works, you need to know its conceptual model. Room heaters, air conditioners, and even home ovens have only two modes of operation: full power and no operation. Therefore, they always heat up or cool down to the required temperature as quickly as possible. In this case, setting the heater to maximum, you will achieve nothing but a waste of electricity after raising the room temperature to the desired level. Now consider the car. Here the conceptual model is different. The stove and air conditioner also operate in only two modes: maximum power and inactivity, but in many cars the temperature in the cabin is controlled by mixing cold and hot air. This means that by turning off the mixing (turning on the stove to the maximum), you can quickly raise the temperature and after that set the regulator to the desired position. These are examples of simple conceptual models, very simplified, but sufficient to understand the operation of the device. These patterns define our activities at home and in the car. A good conceptual model is the line between the right and the wrong use of many things. From this short lesson, we can conclude that good design is also a communication between the developer and the user, which is carried out through the appearance of the device. The thing should speak for itself. Even knobs require a conceptual model—a visual and natural relationship between their location and function (I call this “natural fit” in the book). If the designer is unable to present a clear conceptual model, we have to create our own, and often erroneous. The concept model is an important part of good design.

Feedback. It is very important that the result of the action is visible. Lack of feedback breeds unnecessary speculation. The button may not have been pressed hard enough; maybe the device has stopped working or the function that you need is not performing at all. Due to the lack of feedback, we can turn off or restart the equipment in an untimely manner and, as a result, destroy all the work done. Or repeat the command and force the machine to perform the task again. Feedback is extremely important.

Limiters. To make a thing easy to use, you need to exclude all possible wrong actions, that is, limit their choice. Do you want people to correctly insert batteries and memory cards into a camera? Design them so that they cannot be inserted in any other way, or that the camera works properly regardless of their position. The lack of limiters is one of the reasons for the appearance of all kinds of warnings and instructions, all these tiny and illegible diagrams located in awkward places and often not differing in color from the camera body. We have to look for instructions on doors, cameras and various equipment. Here's a rule of thumb: if an item requires instructions to use (click here, paste here, turn it off before doing anything), the design is bad.

Appointment. A good designer makes acceptable actions visible and unacceptable actions invisible. The idea of ​​“perceived purpose” presented in the book has, to my delight, become very popular in the world of designers and constructors.

3. The power of observation. If I manage to convey my ideas to you, your perception of the world will inevitably change. You will no longer look at doors and switches the way you looked before. You will begin to look closely at the people around you, objects and their interaction. If I had to limit myself to just one remark, I would give you this advice: learn to observe, learn to see. Watch yourself. Watch others. As the famous baseball player Yogi Berra said: "By watching, you can see a lot." But you must know how to look. If you had met an inept user before reading The Design of Everyday Things, you would have blamed all the mistakes on him. Now you will criticize the design. Even better, you will start looking for a way to solve the problem.

Since the book was published, the design of some products has been great, while others have been terrible. The number of companies that take into account the needs of customers and hire good designers is growing every year. However, the number of firms that ignore the needs of consumers and produce unusable products seems to be increasing even faster.

The confusion caused by the development of technology is growing every year. The heavy use of the Internet, mobile phones, portable audio players, and a wide variety of portable wireless communication devices shows how important these technologies are to us. However, websites are often incomprehensible, mobile phones are too complicated, and the dashboard in a car resembles an airplane control panel. We see new objects when we enter a house, get into a car, or walk down the street. As soon as new technologies appear, companies forget the lessons of the past and allow designers, who are driven only by the desire to expand the range of functions, to create their fantastic creations. As a result, confusion and despair are growing.

Remote control of the house is the secret dream of technocrats. They think about how, while driving a car, call home and turn on the heater or air conditioner, fill the bath with water or make a cup of coffee. Some companies already offer products that make this possible. But why do we need them? Think about how many problems arise with a conventional car radio. Now imagine how, while driving a car, you will monitor household electrical appliances. I'm already shaking with dark forebodings.

The concept of "design" is ambiguous. Engineers are designing bridges and dams, electrical circuits and new types of materials. The word is used in fashion, construction, interior and landscape design. Some designers and constructors, being artists by nature, pay more attention to external beauty. Others care about the price. Although the book only highlights the relevance of the design to the needs of the user, this is far from the only factor that is taken into account in the process of developing a thing. And all these factors are important. That is why design work is so complex and revered. After all, the final product must satisfy all obviously contradictory requirements.

Developing a user-centric design requires that all factors are considered and taken into account from the very beginning. Most of the items are intended for human use, so the requirements and needs of the latter must be taken into account in the design process. In this book, I cover only one aspect of this work: how to make a thing understandable and practical. I focus on it because it is this aspect that has been neglected for so long. The time has come for him to take his rightful place. This does not mean that practicality should be the main goal of the designer: great design involves harmony and balance between aesthetic beauty, reliability and safety, practicality, price and functionality.

Don't sacrifice beauty for practicality or practicality for beauty. No need to sacrifice cost or features, time to produce or sell. You can create a thing that is original and practical, enjoyable and absolutely comfortable. Art and beauty play an important role in our lives. And in good design, they must be present.

Technology changes fast, people change slowly

Although quite a lot of time has passed since the writing of the book, in it, oddly enough, almost nothing needs to be changed. Why? Because it is aimed at us, consumers, how we interact with the world of things. This interaction is determined by physiology, psychology, social and cultural framework. Human physiology and psychology are practically unchanged, culture and society change very slowly. Moreover, choosing illustrative examples for the book, I deliberately refused to take high technologies and turned to everyday things. High technologies are developing rapidly, but ordinary life is not in a hurry to change. As a result, the book has not become outdated: all the problems raised in it have not lost their relevance, and the principles mentioned apply to both low-tech and high-tech devices.

Question. In your book, you talk about the design of everything from phones to doorknobs, focusing on the four elements of design: purpose, constraints, compliance, and feedback. But you didn't say anything about computers. Do your recommendations apply to them?

Answer. I also talked about computers. I deliberately didn't use them (or other digital devices) as examples because I wanted to show that the principles that doorknobs and switches should be based on apply to computers, digital cameras, mobile phones, aircraft and nuclear control panels. power plants, and, of course, vice versa.

Question. Do you think developers are good at designing the latest high-tech devices?

Answer. No. Every time new technologies come out, new designers make the same terrible mistakes as their predecessors. They don't learn from their experience. Techies look only ahead, so they repeat the mistakes of the past again and again. Modern wireless devices sometimes terrify me. Their developers simply need to read The Design of Everyday Things.

We can see the same thing with websites. In early developments, the experience of predecessors was completely ignored, which crossed out several years of movement towards practicality and understandability. Over time, as users became more experienced, they began to demand a better design, and things went smoothly. Whenever a new technology catches on, people stop paying attention to colorful advertising promises, and there is a demand for practical and understandable design. Then the manufacturers revise the design and apply to it the same principles on which the design of the previous generation of equipment was based. The most egregious mistakes are made by the developers of the latest technologies.

One of the goals of this book is to show the power of design. After reading it, at a minimum, you should learn to distinguish good design from mediocre, ill-conceived, and not meeting the goals.

Technology can change quickly, but people change slowly. The principles, lessons and examples of the Design of Everyday Things are based on an understanding of the essence of man. They will be relevant at all times.

Don Norman

Northbrook, Illinois, USA

Foreword

I wanted to write this book for a long time, but I didn't realize it. For many years I have made mistakes, walking through doors, turning on faucets, using everyday things. “It’s my fault,” I mumbled. “This is all my technical incompetence.” But when I started studying psychology and observing the behavior of others, I noticed that I was not alone. Others have had the same problems as me. And everyone seemed to have only themselves to blame. Could the whole world be technically incompetent?

Little by little I began to understand what was going on. Scientific research led me to the study of human error and industrial accidents. I have found that we are not always clumsy. And we are not always wrong. But still, we are mistaken when we use objects that we know little about and which are distinguished by poor design. However, we still consider human error to be the cause of all human ills. Passenger plane crashed? “Pilot error,” read the report. Exploded Chernobyl nuclear power plant? "Dispatcher's error," newspapers write. Did two ships collide? "Captain's mistake," officials say. However, after careful analysis of such incidents, a different assessment is usually given. Responsibility for the disaster at the well-known American power plant Three Miles Island was placed on the dispatchers, who made erroneous conclusions about the malfunction of the system. But was it their fault? How do you like the phrase itself: “made erroneous conclusions about the malfunction”?

It implies that there were indeed malfunctions (serious mechanical damage). Then why wasn't equipment failure named as the cause of the failure? Now about erroneous conclusions. What prevented dispatchers from noticing the problem? Or maybe the dispatchers did not have the necessary tools and they did everything in accordance with the rules? And what about the safety valve that did not close, although the dispatcher pressed the right button and even the corresponding light lit up? Why was the dispatcher accused of not checking the readings of two more instruments (one of which was on the back of the control panel) and not determining the presence of a problem? (In fact, he tested one of them.) Human error? But it seems to me that this is a hardware malfunction and a serious designer's mistake.

So what is the reason for my inability to use ordinary things? After all, I have no problems with fairly complex equipment: computers, electronics and laboratory equipment. Why do I have difficulty with doors, switches and faucets? How is it that I work with a multi-million dollar computer system and can't handle my refrigerator? Blaming ourselves, we do not notice the real culprit - faulty design. As a result, millions of people consider themselves technically mediocre. The time has come for change.

That is why the book "Psychology of habitual things" appeared. This work is the result of my frustrations with the inept use of everyday things and my growing knowledge of practical and cognitive psychology. The combination of experience and knowledge made the appearance of the book possible and even necessary, at least for me and my well-being.

I give it to you: partly polemical, partly scientific; partly funny, partly serious.

Thanks

The idea for the book and the first drafts for it came about when I was in Cambridge, UK, taking a year off from the University of California, San Diego, USA. At Cambridge I worked in the Department of Applied Psychology, in the laboratory of the British Medical Research Council.

I express my special gratitude to the staff of the department for their friendliness. These scientists are professionals in the field of applied and theoretical psychology, especially in the issues raised in this book. They are world-famous experts in the design of instructions and manuals, warning signals, computer systems, and especially working in an environment filled with design flaws: hard-to-open doors, slurred (or irrational) prompts, confusing electric stoves and dastardly switches. Examples of bad design can be found in the homes of even the smartest of us. Both at my university and in my personal laboratory, there are things that inspire awe among employees. I will talk about them in this book.

The main idea of ​​the book is that most of the knowledge is stored in the world around us, and not in our head. This is a rather interesting statement, presenting a certain difficulty for cognitive scientists. What does it mean - "knowledge is contained in the surrounding world"? After all, knowledge is a product of mental activity, the result of comprehension. Information can be obtained from the outside world, but knowledge - never. But where is the boundary between knowledge and information? Maybe you can show it to us? You will probably not deny that in our daily life we ​​rely on the location of objects, on printed texts, on data received from colleagues, on social and cultural norms. There is a lot of outside information. My views on this subject have been reinforced by years of scientific debate and collaboration with the excellent scientists of the Group of Cognitive Scientists, which was founded at the University of California at San Diego. All of them were members of the teaching staff of the faculties of psychology, anthropology and sociology. The group was led by Mike Cole and met every week for several years. The main members were Roy D'Andrad, Aaron Sicourel, Bud Mahan, George and Jean Mendler, Dave Ramelhart, and myself. The activities of the group were peculiar, albeit academic, in nature, so my colleagues may not share some of the ideas presented in this book.

And finally, while working in the Department of Applied Psychology in the UK, I met Professor David Rubin of Duke University, USA, who was studying the issue of retelling epic poems, huge works that itinerant poets recited from memory for many hours. Rubin explained to me that not all information is stored in memory: most of it is contained in the surrounding world, or at least in the structure of the text, poetics and lifestyle of listeners.

The topic of my previous research was the difficulties of working with a computer and ways to overcome them. But the more I studied computers, the more I realized that there is nothing special about them: operators have the same problems as those who use other, simpler things. And the more widespread these familiar things were, the more problems they created. Especially when people blamed themselves for the inability to handle them, although this blame should have been more on the designers and manufacturers.

So, everything matched. My ideas, sabbatical, years of experience fighting bad design. When I returned from the UK, I was asked to talk about the work I had done there, and I began to write down my thoughts on paper. The last straw was my trip to Paris for Roger Schenck's birthday. Then I discovered the work of Jacques Karelman. After that, I firmly decided to write a book.

formal support

The book was written in three places. The beginning was laid during a year's vacation. I spent the first half at the Department of Applied Psychology in Cambridge, UK, and the second half at the MCC Research Consortium (which designs the computer systems of the future) in Austin, Texas, USA. Officially, I was a "guest scientist", unofficially - a "minister without portfolio". I had no restrictions in my actions, and I could take part in any projects, especially those related to the development of external design. In the UK it is cold in winter, in Texas it is hot in summer. But both there and there all conditions for work were created for me. After returning to the University of California, I revised the book several times. I used it in class and handed out copies to colleagues. The comments of students and readers were invaluable. Thanks to them, I significantly improved the original text.

Part of my work was funded under contract N0001485-C-0133 NR 667-547 with the Office of Naval Research, and partly by a grant from the Systems Development Fund.

friendly participation

The final version of the book is very different from the original. Many of my colleagues read the drafts and made valuable comments. I want to give special thanks to Judy Greissman of Basic Books for her patient criticism throughout the book. I was also treated kindly by the staff of the Department of Applied Psychology in the UK, among which are Alan Baddeley, Thomas Green, Phil Johnson-Ler, Tony Marcel, Karelyn and Roy Patterson, Tim Shellis and Richard Young. I received helpful advice from MCC scientists Peter Cook, Jonathan Gradin, and Dave Wroblewski. Separately, I want to thank the psychology students at the University of California who attended my lectures on cognitive engineering.

My design colleagues, Mike King, Mihai Nadin, Dan Rosenberg, and Bill Verplank, helped me a lot in writing the book. Special thanks go to Phil Egri, Sherman de Forest, and Jeff Raskin, who carefully read the manuscript and made many valuable comments.

I collected illustrations for the book while traveling around the world with a camera in my hands. Eileen Conway and Michael Norman helped me select and place the figures in the text. Julie Norman reviewed and edited the book, commenting and encouraging me as she went. Eric Norman provided me with advice and photogenic hands and feet and provided all sorts of support.

Finally, my colleagues at the University of California, San Diego Cognitive Science Institute helped me break the spell on international email and understand the details of the process.

I would especially like to highlight Bill Gaver, Mike Moser and Dave Owen. In addition, I would like to express my gratitude to all those who helped me in the research that preceded this book.

Psychopathology of ordinary things

At the annual meeting, Kenneth Olsen, the engineer who founded Digital Equipment Corp. and currently in charge of it, admitted that he did not know how to make coffee using the company's microwave oven.

You have to be an engineer to figure this out.

“To understand them, you need to have a higher technical education,” one person once told me, shaking his head in puzzlement and showing his new digital watch. Well, I have a higher technical education. (Kenneth Olsen has two, but he can't figure out the microwave.) Give me two hours and I'll figure them out. But why should it take so long? I have talked many times with people who don't know how to use certain functions of their washing machines or cameras, who don't know how to operate a sewing machine or use a VCR, and who constantly turn on the wrong burner on the stove.

Why do the objects that we see every day bring us nothing but disappointments? Things we don't know how to use; plastic bottles that we cannot open; doors that interfere with us; washing machines and dryers with many functions; audio-stereo-television-video-cassette recorders that are supposed to do everything but really do nothing. The list goes on and on.

The human brain is able to understand how the world works. Give him a little push, and then everything will go like clockwork. Think of things like books, radios, kitchen appliances, office equipment, and light switches, all of which are essential to our lives. We do not think about what they are for and how to use them, since this is obvious to us. But there are things that present difficulties in operation (see, for example, Fig. 1.1). By their appearance, they do not give clear clues on how to use them, or these clues are false. This leads a person into a dead end and interferes with the normal process of interpretation and understanding. Alas, ill-conceived things prevail in our world. And as a result - disappointment and inability to use them. This book is a chance to change everything.

Rice. 1.1. Karelman's coffee pot for masochists. French artist Jacques Karelman's Catalog d'objets introuvables (Catalogue of Non-Existent Objects), a series of books, provides examples of familiar, but unusable or irregularly shaped objects. Jacques Carelman: Coffeepot for Masochists. Copyright © 1969–76–80 by Jacques Carelman and A.D.A.G.P. Paris. From Jacques Carelman Catalog d'objets introuvables, Balland, Paris-France. Used with permission of the author

life disappointments

If I were at the control panel of a modern airliner, I could neither lift it into the air nor land it on the ground. It wouldn't surprise or upset me in the least. But with doors, switches, water taps and stoves, there should be no problems. "With doors? I hear you exclaim in bewilderment. “You don’t know how to open them?” Yes. I push those doors that need to be pulled towards me, and I pull those that need to be pushed. And I stumble upon those doors that should move apart. And I'm not unique. With such problems - unnecessary problems - many face. There are psychological principles, following which, you will learn to understand things and use them.

Imagine a door. The door can perform only two functions: open and close. Imagine yourself walking down the hallway of an office. You come to the door. In which direction will you open it? Will you pull or push, right or left? Maybe the door opens automatically. If so, in which direction?

For example, I saw a door that goes up. The door can only raise two questions: in which direction does it open and from which side should it be opened? The answers must be in the design.

A friend of mine told me a story about being trapped by doors in a post office in a European city. The exit consisted of six glass doors arranged in a row, followed by a second row of similar doors. This is a standard design: it helps to reduce the speed of air currents and maintain a constant temperature inside the building.

My friend pushed one of the nearest doors. It opened and he was inside. Then, at some point, he was distracted and, without realizing it, stepped to the right. When he went to the next door and pushed it, the door didn't open. Hmm, he thought, it must be closed. He pushed open the next door. Nothing. Confused, my friend tried to go outside. He turned and pushed open the door. Nothing. Pushed the next one. Nothing. The door he entered did not open. He turned again and again tried to push the inner door. It wasn't there. He freaked out, then panicked a little. He's trapped! Soon a group of people entered from the other side of the entrance (to my friend's right) and passed through the doors with ease. My friend hurried after them.

How could this happen? Doors that open on both sides (like all doors, by the way) have two sides. One side is fixed on a column support and hinges, the other is free. To open the door, you need to push the free side. If you push the fixed side, the door will remain closed. In this case, the designer was thinking about beauty, but not about practicality. There were no eye-catching lines on the door, no visible supports or hinges (Fig. 1.2). And how could a simple person know which side to push the door from? Distracted, my friend stepped to the hinged side of the door and tried to open it. No wonder he didn't succeed. Great doors. Elegant. Perhaps their author even received an award.

Rice. 1.2. A row of double-opening glass doors in a Boston hotel. The same problem as with the doors on European mail. Which side to push? When I asked those who had just passed through the doors about this, most of them could not answer this question. And yet, in my experience, only a few had problems. The designer provided a small hint: the horizontal plates are not in the center, but are slightly offset in the direction that needs to be pushed. This helps, although not always. It is especially difficult for those who encounter such doors for the first time.

The door story illustrates one of the most important aspects of design: visibility. Tips on how to use this or that thing should be clear and correct. If the door needs to be pushed, the designer should provide clues to indicate which side to push. It does not destroy the aesthetics. Attach a vertical plate on the side to be pushed. Or make the supports visible. The vertical plate and visible supports are natural cues that are naturally perceived and that no one thinks about. I call the use of natural cues natural design, and I develop this principle in detail throughout the book.

The visibility problem takes many forms. When my friend was locked between glass doors, he lacked a clue which way to push. Another issue is the alignment between what you want to do and what can be done (this issue will also be covered). Imagine a slide projector. It has only one button, which is designed to control the movement of the slide stand back and forth. One button does two things? What is the correspondence here? How to understand how to use a slide projector? No way. There are no obvious clues. This is what happened to me during one of my traveling lectures.

During my travels, I used a Leitz overhead projector several times, the instructions for which are shown in fig. 1.3. The first time was the worst. I started the lecture and showed the first slide. When it was time to move on to the next slide, the student in charge pressed the button gently and watched in horror as the stand reversed, slipped out of the overhead projector, and fell off the table to the floor, jarring all the slides. It took 15 minutes to put the slides in order. It wasn't the student's fault, but that elegant slide projector. How can one button perform two opposite functions? Nobody could get it right the first time.

Rice. 1.3. In the end, I found the instructions for this overhead projector. In the slide projector photo, all the details are numbered. The button that moves the slide stand is number 7. The button itself has nothing written on it. Without instructions, it is impossible to understand how the mechanism works. Here is the full text of the instruction regarding the button in English and in translation

Throughout the lecture, the slides moved in one direction, then in the other. In the end, we found a local laboratory assistant, who explained to us how to work with a slide projector. Short press of the button - the stand goes forward, long - back. (Poor student. He pressed the button hard and held it for a long time to make sure the switch worked.) What a beautiful design! One button does two things! But how does a person who sees this object for the first time know how to handle it?

As another example, take the beautiful amphitheater Louis-Lehr at the Sorbonne, which displays many magnificent portraits of famous French thinkers. (The ceiling fresco depicts naked women hovering around a man who is trying to focus on reading. Correctly only the lecturer sees the fresco, the rest of the audience sees it upside down.) The room is fine for lectures, but only until you ask to lower movie screen. "Oh!" the professor exclaims, gesturing something to the laboratory assistant, who runs out of the room, goes up one flight and hides behind a large wall. The screen goes down and stops. "No no! shouts the professor. - Some more". This time the screen goes down too low. "No no no!" - already bouncing on the spot and waving his arms, the professor yells. Very beautiful audience, very beautiful pictures. But why didn't anyone provide for the one who lowers or raises the screen to see what he is doing?

The new telephone sets give us another example of obscure design. I see it everywhere I go.

When I was at Basic Books, I noticed the new telephone sets. I asked the workers if they liked them. It turned out that most of the new phones did not like. “There is no waiting function here,” complained one woman. I heard the same thing from the employees of my university, although they spoke about completely different devices. Older phones had this feature. You could press a button and hang up the phone without interrupting the conversation. At this time, you could talk to a colleague, take another call or switch to another device. The lit light indicated that the "wait" function was currently activated. If this feature was so convenient, why is it not in the new phones of the publisher and the university? It turns out that it is, only without first studying the instructions it is very difficult to detect.

When I was at the University of Michigan, I was also interested in the opinion of employees about new phones. “Yes, here,” I heard in response, “there is not even a waiting function!” Everywhere is the same. What to do? The answer is simple: first, you should read the instructions. At the University of Michigan, the phone company put the instruction manual right next to the phones. I carefully removed one of them and photographed (Fig. 1.4). By looking at it, can you understand how to use the phone? I cant. The "call hold" function is described here, but it is incomprehensible to me, since it does not fit the description above.

Rice. 1.4. Instructions for telephones at the University of Michigan. This is all that most phone users see. (The "TAP" button in the lower right corner is for forwarding or resuming a call. It is pressed if the instructions say "TAP". The lamp in the lower left corner lights up every time the phone rings)

The problem with the wait function reveals many other problems. First, the problem of bad instructions, in particular the bad name of the functions. Secondly, the lack of clarity in the operation of the device. New phones have a lot of complex features, but two simple ones are missing: the “wait” button and the call indicator. The waiting function is carried out by non-obvious actions - using a set of random numbers (*8, or *99, or some other: it depends on the phone model). And, thirdly, there is no visual result of the device.

Home appliances cause the same problems: more features, more buttons. I don't think that the design of household electrical appliances - stoves, washing machines, audio and video equipment - should correspond to the Hollywood idea of ​​a spaceship control panel. Such devices only scare users with rows of buttons and displays. Having lost or misunderstood the instructions, a person most often remembers one or two functions, and he does not need the rest. The design goal remains unattained.

In the UK, I visited a house where there was a new Italian washing machine with a lot of amazing buttons. This machine was supposed to be able to wash and dry clothes in ways you never dreamed possible. The husband (a psychologist by profession) refused to even walk near the car, and the wife (a doctor by profession) simply learned one program and tried not to think about others.

I have looked at the instruction manual. So many features - someone did a great job! The machine took into account all the variety of modern types of synthetic and natural fabrics. The designers did a good job, they took into account almost everything. But they obviously did not think about one little thing: how a simple person will use this machine.

Why did this couple buy it if the design was so bad and the buttons were useless? After all, if people buy such things, manufacturers and designers will think that they are doing something useful, and continue in the same spirit.

The user needs help. Everything should be clear: how and what parts work and how to make them work. Visibility determines the correspondence between intended and performed actions. It indicates significant differences (for example, between a salt shaker and a pepper shaker). And the visual result of the action allows you to know whether the lamp is turned on correctly, whether the screen is lowered to the desired height, and whether the temperature in the refrigerator is set correctly. A lack of visual aids makes operation difficult, and an excess of them intimidates users of multi-functional audio and VCR equipment.

The psychology of ordinary things

This book will deal with the psychology of ordinary things. She emphasizes the importance of understanding the things we deal with on a daily basis: objects with buttons and dials, switches, indicators and light bulbs. The examples given demonstrate the importance of factors such as visibility, the presence of appropriate prompts and response to actions. These factors make up the psychology of things - the psychology of the interaction between things and the user. A British designer once remarked that the type of material used to make car windshields influences the actions of hooligans. Based on this, he suggested the possibility of the existence of a psychology of materials.

Purpose of things

The railway company British Rail used heavy-duty glass as the material for the bulletin board (for passengers). It was broken immediately after installation. The next time the workers of the company put plywood instead of glass. The damage to the board was minimal, it was only painted (note that the cost of this material is much lower). No one has yet thought about the possibility of the existence of a psychology of materials. But life shows that it exists!

There is already an introduction to the psychology of materials and things - the science of the purpose of objects. The concept of purpose in this context means the perceived and visual properties of things, in particular, the properties that determine their function (Fig. 1.5 and 1.6). The chair is meant to be sat on. The chair can also be worn. You can see through the glass, or you can break it. It is impossible to look through the tree, it is opaque and solid. You can lean on it and cut something on it. You can write on even and smooth surfaces. Therefore, it is possible to write on a tree. So British Rail's problem was this: when the glass was installed, the hooligans smashed it; when the plywood was delivered, they only covered it. The reason is in the purpose of materials.

Rice. 1.5. Appointment of doors. The metal parts of the door can tell you what to do with it: push or pull. The door with the horizontal handle in the photo on the left is only meant to be pushed. Great hint. The door in the photo on the right has a different clue: on the one hand, small vertical handles indicate that the door needs to be pushed forward, and on the other hand, longer horizontal handles indicate that the door should be pulled towards you. Both types of handles cause a desire to take them, and their size and position determine the further actions of a person.

Rice. 1.6. The purpose of the thing is not taken into account. I had to cover the closet door with a rubber band to restore its original purpose - to open outward.

The purpose is a visual clue on how to use the item. Buttons are pressed, control knobs are turned, something is inserted into sockets, balls are thrown or hit on the floor. If the purpose is known, the user understands how the thing is operated by one of its types: without labels and instructions. Perhaps the handling of complex devices requires some explanation, but the handling of ordinary things does not. If the purpose of the item is not clear without a picture, label or instructions, it means that it has the wrong design.

When using everyday things, the psychology of randomness sometimes works. The event following an action is perceived as the result of that action. For example, if the computer freezes when you touch the system unit, you begin to think that the reason lies precisely in you, even if the connection between an error in operation and your action was pure coincidence. Such accidents have given rise to many superstitions. Some of the actions of users of computers and other sophisticated home appliances are determined by just such coincidences. If an action does not produce a clear result, it is considered unsuccessful and is repeated. In the past, when computer text editors did not always show the result of the work, users sometimes tried to correct the manuscript. The lack of visual results led them to believe that the action was not performed, so they repeated their actions over and over again with a sense of surprise and regret. It is bad design that leads to such accidents, and therefore to erroneous conclusions.

Twenty thousand familiar things

There is an incredible amount of things (maybe twenty thousand) that we see and use every day. Are there really so many of them? Look around. Lamps and sockets; fasteners and screws; wall clocks, wristwatches, watch straps; writing instruments (now I have 12 pens of different function, color and shape in front of me); clothes that differ in function, size and style. Pay attention to the variety of materials and patterns of fasteners (buttons, zippers, ties, chains), furniture and kitchen utensils: each item serves a specific purpose. Remember your workplace: paper clips, scissors, stacks of papers, magazines, books, bookmarks. In my office, I counted over a hundred different items. All of them are simple and familiar, but each requires a certain way of operation, each performs a separate function, and each should have its own design. In addition, many of these items consist of several parts. There are 16 parts in a stapler, 15 in a home iron, and 23 in a simple bath-shower set. Can't believe that such simple items have so many parts? Here are the 11 basic sink parts: drain, rim (around the drain), main stop, reservoir, soap dish, drain, sleeve, water pipes, fittings, hot and cold water faucet. You can count even more if you divide the taps, fittings and pipes into parts.

The book What’s What: A Visual Glossary of the Physical World (“What is what: a visual explanatory dictionary of the world of things”) has more than one and a half thousand drawings and provides examples of 23 thousand objects or their details. Irving Biederman, a psychologist who studies visual perception, has calculated that there are about "30,000 easily distinguishable objects for adults." But whatever that number is, one thing is clear: an already difficult life is complicated by a large number of things. Imagine if it takes a minute to learn one thing, then it takes 20,000 minutes to learn 20,000 subjects, which is equal to 333 hours, or eight 40-hour work weeks. In addition, we often encounter new items when we least expect them. We get lost, and something that should be easy to use distracts us from getting the job done.

How do we deal with this? Part of the answer lies in the psychology of human thought and our cognitive abilities. Part - in the form of the object, that is, its psychology. An important role is played by the ability of the designer: is he able to make a thing understandable, pleasing to the eye, and convey to the user what he needs to know in order to use it. It is here that knowledge about human psychology and knowledge about the purpose of a thing are closely intertwined.

Concept Models

Take a look at the rather strange bicycle in fig. 1.7. You know this bike won't ride because it's based on the wrong conceptual model. You can draw this conclusion because the details of the bike are clear and their functions are clear.

Rice. 1.7. Tandem Karelman "Moving bike (model for newlyweds)". Jacques Carelman: Convergent Bycicle. Copyright © 1969–76–80 by Jacques Carelman and A.D.A.G.P. Paris. From Jacques Carelman Catalog d'objets introuvables, Balland, Paris-France. Used with permission of the author

Other clues come from the visual structure of the thing, in particular its purpose, constraints, and conformity. Imagine scissors: even if you had never seen one before, you could say with confidence that the number of functions performed by this item is limited. It is quite obvious what the holes are for: to insert something into them. Thinking logically, you can guess that this “something” will be fingers. So, the holes indicate the purpose of the scissors: you need to insert your fingers into them. Hole sizes are limiters: large - for several fingers, small - for only one. The correspondence of holes and fingers is determined by the holes themselves. Moreover, the effectiveness of scissors does not depend on the location of the fingers: they will still cut. It is not difficult to understand the purpose of the scissors, because all the details are visible. Thus, the underlying conceptual model is clear, and the purpose and constraints are effective.

As an opposite example, imagine a digital clock. There are two or four buttons on the front panel. What are they for? How to set the time? There is no obvious connection between functions and buttons, no limiters, no hints. With scissors, everything is simple - the movement of the handles drives the blades. The situation with a clock and a slide projector is much more complicated: there is no obvious connection between buttons and possible actions, as well as between actions and the end result.

Clarity and usability of design

We come to the fundamental design principles of things: 1) having a clear conceptual model and 2) visibility.

Having a clear conceptual model

If a thing is based on a clear conceptual model, we can predict the result of actions with it. If such a model is hidden from the consumer, he works blindly: he performs actions according to the instructions, but does not know what to expect from the object and why and what to do if something fails. So far so good, no problems. But if something goes wrong or you are faced with a new situation, only understanding based on a clear conceptual model can help you.

Understanding the purpose and features of using everyday things is quite simple. Scissors, pens and switches are fairly simple items. There is no need to understand all the physical and chemical processes that occur in objects, you just need to know what function and which button performs. If the underlying conceptual model of the thing is wrong or wrong (or, worse, unworkable), complications can arise. As an example, I will give a story with my refrigerator.

I have an ordinary two-chamber refrigerator - nothing special. The problem is that I can not accurately adjust the temperature in it. You only need to do two things: set the temperature for the freezer and for the refrigerator. There are two dials: one says "freezer" and the other says "fresh". What is the problem?

And you try to do it yourself. On fig. 1.8 shows the instructions that are inside the refrigerator. Now imagine that the temperature of the freezer is too low, but the refrigerator compartment is normal. Therefore, the first must be increased, and the second must be left the same. Read the instructions and try to mentally do it.

Rice. 1.8. My refrigerator. Two chambers - freezing and refrigerating - and two regulators (in the refrigerator). In the figure you see the regulators and instructions for them. Challenge: Imagine that the temperature in the freezer is too low, but in the refrigerator compartment is normal. How can the temperature in the first chamber be increased without changing the temperature in the second? (From Norman, 1986)

Yes, I almost forgot. Both buttons are linked. By changing the temperature in one compartment, you change the temperature in the other. And remember that you can check the result only after 24 hours, unless, of course, you forget by that time what exactly you did.

Adjusting the temperature is not so easy, because the manufacturer initially presented the wrong conceptual model of the product. There are two chambers and two regulators. The instructions clearly and unambiguously say how to set the temperature: each regulator is responsible for its own chamber. This is where the error lies.

In reality, there is only one thermostat and only one cooler in the refrigerator. Therefore, one regulator is responsible for controlling the thermostat, and the other for the operation of the cooler. Therefore, both controllers are interconnected. The conceptual model proposed by the manufacturer makes temperature control almost impossible. If all models were correct, life would be much easier (Figure 1.9).

Rice. 1.9. Two conceptual models of my refrigerator. Figure A shows a model that can be imagined based on the instructions and the location of the controls; Figure B shows a real conceptual model. The problem is that it is impossible to determine where the thermostat is located and how each of the regulators affects the temperature in different chambers.

Why did the manufacturer present the wrong concept model? Perhaps the designers considered the correct model too complicated, and this one more understandable. But the fact is that the erroneous model makes temperature adjustment impossible at all. Even now, when I know the correct model, I can't fine-tune the temperature, because I don't understand which regulator is responsible for the thermostat and which one is for the cooler and in which chamber the thermostat is located. Feedback does not help: hardly anyone will remember what he did a day ago.

The topic of conceptual models will be discussed further. Conceptual models are varieties of mental models—models that form in our minds about ourselves, others, the environment, and everyday things. Such models emerge from experience, practice and learning. The mental model of devices is formed as a result of human interpretation of perceived actions and visible structure. I call the visually perceived component of any device the image of the system (Fig. 1.10). If the image of the system is incomprehensible (as in the case of a refrigerator), incomplete or contradictory, then the use of the device is significantly hampered.

Rice. 1.10. Types of mental models. The modem of the designed system is a conceptual model of the designer. The user model is a model that is created as a result of interaction with the system. The system image is based on its physical structure (including documentation, instructions, and labels). Ideally, the model of the system being designed should match the model of the user. However, the designer does not communicate directly with the user - communication is carried out through the image of the system. The incomprehensibility and incompatibility of the model of the designed system leads to difficulties in operation. (From Norman, 1986)

Visualization of functions

The complexities of inadequate perception of detail can be illustrated by one simple example: the modern telephone.

I was standing near the blackboard talking to a student when my phone rang. Called once, then twice. I wanted to finish my thought and only then answer the call. Then the phone stopped ringing. "Sorry," said the student. “You are not to blame,” I replied. - It's OK. The call will be transferred to my secretary's phone. She will answer it." As we listened, we heard the telephone ring in the office. Called once, then twice. I glanced at my watch. It was six o'clock. The working day had already ended, so there was no one in the office. I rushed to the secretary's office. But when I got there, the phone stopped ringing. “Well,” I thought, “now the call will be transferred to another phone.” As soon as I thought about it, the phone in the next office rang. I ran there, but the doors were locked. While I was running for the keys, fiddling with the lock, the phone went silent again. A second later I heard a call in the hall. Was it my call, wandering like a ghost through the offices? Or was it another call and everything that happened was just a coincidence?

In fact, if I had acted faster, I could have answered the call from the office. The instructions say: "To answer a call from a number in a pre-programmed group, dial 14. To receive a call from any other number, do the following: dial the extension, wait for a dial tone, dial 8, and you will be connected immediately." Wow! What does all this mean? What is a "preprogrammed group"? And what is the extension number of the calling phone? Will I be able to remember all these instructions if necessary? Of course not.

Because the automatic functions of the phone are poorly thought out and not tested in real conditions, a new game has appeared in the modern office - chasing a phone call. There are other games as well. One of them: "How to answer the phone?" This question appears when you pick up the phone. There is another paradoxical game: "There is no waiting function in the phone." This is blamed on phones that actually have this feature. And finally, there is another game: “What does it mean “I called you”? You called me!"

Many modern phones have a feature such as auto dial or auto redial. I am supposed to use this feature when the person I am calling does not answer or their line is busy. When the line is free, the phone automatically starts dialing. You can activate several auto redials at the same time. Here's what it looks like. I'm calling. There is no answer, so I turn on the auto-dial function. A few hours later my phone rings, I pick up the phone, I hear beeps, and then someone's voice says:

"Hey".

“Hi,” I reply. - Who is calling?"

"Like who? I hear in response. “It was you who called me.”

“No,” I object. - You called. My phone just rang."

Then it starts to dawn on me that this is really my call. So who did I try to call a couple of hours ago? And how many numbers did I include in the auto redial? And why did I call?

The modern telephone was not created by chance: it was carefully thought out. Someone (probably the design team) came up with a list of desired features, then figured out a way to accomplish those features, and then brought it all together. My university, attracted by the price and variety of features, spent millions of dollars on a phone system that ended up being unpopular and very inconvenient to use. Why did it happen? Several years were spent studying the telephone market and collecting documentation and instructions for using various telephone systems. I also took part in this: I made sure that the telephone system interacted well with the computer network and that its price was acceptable. As far as I remember, no one even thought about how to somehow check the devices. No one offered to install a telephone in an ordinary office and see if a simple employee could use it. Result: failure. The main mistake - the lack of visibility - is closely related to the secondary - a bad conceptual model. The money saved on the purchase was spent on training, and missed calls and frustration among employees cannot be compensated by anything. But other telephone systems were no better.

I recently spent six months in the Department of Practical Psychology in Cambridge, UK. Just before I arrived, British Telecom installed a new telephone system with many different features. The phone itself was unremarkable (Fig. 1.11) - a standard device with 12 buttons, the only difference was the R button, located separately from the other buttons. (I still don't understand what it's for.)

Rice. 1.11. British Telecom phone number. This one stood in my office at the Department of Practical Psychology in Cambridge. It looks pretty simple, doesn't it?

This phone was a complete mockery. No one has been able to fully figure out all its functions. Once, someone even did a little research based on complaints from university employees. Another employee wrote a little computer program, "Professional Systems", which was supposed to clarify difficult points. Thus, in order to use the telephone, you would need to contact at least three employees, consult with "professional systems" (which would take far more than one minute) and only after that call, of course, if you still would needed and if the person on the other end of the line would still be there. Still, it is better to use a computer program than to delve into the instructions for the phone (Fig. 1.12).

Rice. 1.12. Two ways to implement the standby function in modern phones. The figure on the left shows the instructions for the British Telecom telephone. The procedure is complicated by the fact that you need to learn three codes: 681, 682 and 683. On the right is the instruction for a similar phone from Ericsson. Such a phone is installed at the University of California at San Diego. It seems to me that the second instruction is much clearer, but it still requires an arbitrary number to be entered, in this case 8

Why is everything so difficult? As conceived by the designers, there should be no problems. Each operation is quite simple. You just need to dial a few numbers. The appearance of the phone does not imply difficulties. There are 15 control units in total: 12 buttons - 10 buttons with numbers from 0 to 9, # and *; a handset, a lever, and a mysterious R button. All parts, except for the R button, are common to modern phones. So why are there difficulties?

A designer working for a telephone company told me the following story.

I was involved in the design of the front panel of multifunctional phones with the R button. The R button is something like a disappearing function. It's hard to get rid of the relatively new features that existed in previous models.

This can be called physical evolution. If a feature is present and no one is negative about it (that is, no one complains), it will exist forever.

Interestingly, the need for things like the R button can be understood mainly through examples. If someone asks: "What is the R button for?", The answer will follow: "The R button is used to activate the speakerphone." If no response is found, the function is removed. However, designers are smart people. They will come up with an answer to any such question. Therefore, as a result, we get a lot of functions that cannot be eliminated. The result: a complex interface for perfectly simple things.

Thinking about this problem, I decided to compare the phone with something similar or superior in complexity, but easier to use. Let's leave the complex telephones for a while and look at my car. I bought my car in Europe. Before I picked it up from the factory, a company representative sat in the car with me and explained the purpose of each button and each lever. I thanked him and left. His explanations were quite enough, although there are 112 different buttons and controls in the car. Everything is relatively simple: 25 controllers are responsible for the radio, 7 for the temperature in the car, 11 for raising / lowering and darkening the windows. The on-board computer is equipped with 14 buttons, and each of them performs a specific function. So, in four devices - radio, temperature control, windows and on-board computer - there are only 57 buttons, or 50% of all control units in the car.

How is a car with all the variety of buttons and functions simpler than a phone, which has much fewer buttons and functions? What is the best car design? The fact that all the details are visible. The purpose of the buttons is obvious. The action corresponds to the result. One button usually performs one function. The connection between the intentions and actions of the user and the result of these actions is not accidental and can be explained.

What is wrong with the design of the phone? Visibility is missing. Correspondence is random: the connection between action and result is not obvious. The buttons are multifunctional. The result is not immediately noticeable, and this leads to the fact that the user does not know for sure whether he has achieved the desired or not. In general, the system is incomprehensible, and its functions are not obvious. The relationship between the intentions and actions of the user and the result of these actions is random.

If the number of functions exceeds the number of buttons, it is safe to say that the operation of the device will be difficult. There are 24 functions in the phone, and only 15 control units, therefore, almost every one of them is multifunctional. But in the on-board computer, 17 functions are provided by 14 buttons. With a few exceptions, one button is responsible for one function. Remembering the functions of the multi-function buttons and learning how to use them is more difficult. When the number of functions corresponds to the number of buttons, each button can be assigned a separate function. Thus, the latter become visible. If the user forgets one of them, the buttons serve as a hint. The phone has more functions than buttons, therefore it is difficult (or even impossible) for the user to assign individual functions to the buttons. Nothing reminds him of the purpose of a particular button. Therefore, the operation of the phone is much more difficult. In the car, all functions are visible and understandable. If the user forgets something, he just needs to look at the button to understand how and what to do. The relationship between the location of a button and its function makes it much easier to find it. As a result, almost nothing needs to be remembered.

Conformity principle

Correspondence is a concept that means the relationship between two things, in this case between controls and the result of their use. Consider the correspondence on the example of driving a car. To turn right, the steering wheel must be turned clockwise (that is, to the right). The driver must distinguish two correspondences: 1) one of the 112 controls is responsible for control and 2) the steering wheel can be turned in two directions. Both correspondences are random to a certain extent. But choosing the steering wheel as a control and turning it to the right is natural. It is driven by visibility and immediate feedback. The correspondence is clear and easy to remember.

Natural fit, by which I mean the use of existing analogues and cultural standards, leads to immediate understanding. A designer, for example, can use a spatial analog: in order to lift an object, you need to raise the lever. A number of spotlights can be controlled by switches arranged in the same order. Some correspondences are based on cultural or physiological aspects. For example, growth invariably means more and recession less. Likewise, a louder sound can mean more. Quantity and loudness (weight, length and brightness) are additive quantities, the gain of one shows the increase of the other. Note that there is no logically plausible connection between musical tone and quantity: can a high tone mean more or less quantity? Tone (as well as taste, color, and disposition) are substitutive quantities: the substitution of one for another implies a change. But there are no definite rules for comparing things with tone, shades or taste. Other correspondences come from the rules of perception, and on them the natural classification and creation of models of control and feedback systems is based (Fig. 1.13).

Rice. 1.13. Seat adjustment in a Mercedes-Benz car. This is a perfect example of natural matching. The handle itself is made in the form of a chair. To raise the front of the seat, you need to lift the front of the handle. To tilt back the seatback, you need to push it back. Of course, a car of this class is far from a common thing, but the application of the principle itself does not require large expenditures.

Compliance problems are the main cause of all the difficulties that arise. Remember the phone. Let's say you want to activate the auto redial feature. To do this on one of the telephone systems, you need to press the "call" button (on the handset), then dial 60, and only then - the number of the desired phone.

In this case, several problems arise. First, the description of the function is quite complex and incomplete: what happens if two people activate this function at the same time? What if you have more features enabled? What if it needs to be turned off? Secondly, the actions are not fully understood. (Dial 60. Why 60? Why not 73 or 27? How can the user remember this arbitrary number?) Thirdly, the last action (dialing the subscriber's number) is absolutely superfluous and unnecessary. If the system is so good, why can't it remember the last dialed number? Why does it need to be recruited again? And lastly, there is no feedback. How do you know that all actions were performed correctly? Maybe I turned off my phone altogether. Or maybe he activated a completely different function. There is no visual or audible signal that allows you to know the result of actions.

The device is easy to use when all functions are visible, that is, the principle of natural correspondence is used in the design of the controls. This principle is simple, but for some reason rarely used in development. Good design must be well thought out. Sometimes designers manage to do this.

One day during a conference in the city of Gmunden in Austria, a few of my colleagues and I decided to look around the city. I sat next to the driver of a brand new, shiny, state-of-the-art German tour bus. I stared in wonder at the hundreds of knobs, buttons, and switches on the control panel.

“How do you understand all this?” I asked the driver (with the help of a German-speaking colleague). The driver was clearly taken aback by my question.

"What do you have in mind? - he asked. “Every button is where it should be, and there is nothing complicated here.”

Good principle. Each control is where it should be. One function - one button. Of course, this is easier said than done, and yet the principle of natural correspondence lies precisely in the visibility of the connection between the buttons and the functions they perform. I will return to this topic a little later, because the problem of determining the “naturalness” of a correspondence, although difficult, is very important.

I said that in general I have no problems with driving. In fact, he also has a lot of problems. The method of practicality used in the design of the car, it would seem, should allow you to see everything and do everything. This is true, but not always.

Here is an example: the speaker control panel is a simple device that is responsible for the operation of the front and rear speakers (Fig. 1.14).

Rice. 1.14. Control knob for front/rear speakers in a car. Turning the control turns on the front speakers (when scrolling all the way in one direction), the rear speakers (when scrolling all the way in the other direction), or both at the same time (in the middle position). But which way to turn? Even looking at the regulator, it is impossible to say for sure. And imagine how difficult it is to use it while driving, when you only look at the road

To change the direction of the sound, you need to scroll the control to the left or right. Everything is simple. It is not clear only one thing: in which direction to turn? It would be much more natural if the control had to be turned forward to turn on the front speakers, and back to turn on the rear speakers. But in this car, the regulator only turns left or right. So, which way to turn? In this case, there is no natural connection. And, worse, there are no signs. The instructions don't say anything about this either.

The regulator had to be set from the very beginning so that it rotated back and forth. If this has not been done, you need to mentally rotate it 90 ° on the already finished panel. Action that results in forward movement is not the same as forward movement itself, but at least there is no contradiction of tradition here.

Using the examples, we found out that both in the car and in the phone there are simple and complex functions. But in a car, it seems that there are more simple ones. Moreover, it has a sufficient number of clear controls, which cannot be said about the phone, where even performing one of the special functions seems incredibly difficult.

Simple and complex things both in the phone and in the car have a lot in common. In both cases, visibility adds simplicity. In addition, there must be a natural relationship between the control and the function it performs: natural matching.

Feedback principle

Feedback - information received by the user about the action and its result - is a well-known concept in control and information theory. Imagine that you want to speak to someone but you can't hear your voice, or you want to draw a picture but the pencil doesn't leave a mark. Lack of feedback makes your action impossible.

In the good old days, when telephone systems weren't yet divided among competing companies, when the phone wasn't so mysterious and didn't have so many features, the concern for consumers was noticeable. The designers at Bell Telephone Laboratories never forgot the principle of feedback. The button design provided tactile feedback. After pressing the button, a beep sounded, which indicated that the button was actually pressed. While waiting, the person heard clicks, beeps and other sounds that indicated the progress of the call. The user heard himself on the phone, which helped him control the volume of his voice. But everything has changed. Phones these days are much more powerful and cheaper – more features for less money. But in fact, the new design leads to a technological paradox: multifunctionality causes difficulties in operation. True, this does not yet mean regression.

Why is it so difficult to use modern phones? Basically, the problem is a large number of functions and a lack of feedback. Imagine all phones had small displays, like inexpensive calculators. And these displays would be used to view phone features. Having selected a function, the user would simply press a certain button to activate it. If additional actions were required, this would also be shown on the display. Instead of a display, a speech signal can be used. The presence of the display requires the installation of only two additional buttons: one for selecting the menu, the other for activating the option. Of course, in this case, the phone would be a little more expensive. Alternative: Price vs Practicality.

Designer's work

The job of a designer is not easy. The employer wants the production cost to be as low as possible. The seller needs the thing to attract buyers. The buyer also has his own criteria. In the store, he first of all pays attention to the price, appearance and, possibly, the prestige of the manufacturer's brand. At home, he looks at the functionality and practicality of the item. The service center evaluates the product in terms of maintainability, that is, how easy it is to disassemble, diagnose and repair. These requirements are varied and sometimes incompatible. And yet, the designer sometimes manages to satisfy the desires of everyone.

A simple example of great design is the 3.5-inch floppy disk, a small circle of flexible magnetic material protected by a hard case. Earlier types of floppy disks did not have such tight protection. The metal sliding plate protects the delicate surface of the floppy disk when not in use and opens automatically when the floppy disk is inserted into the drive. The diskette has a square shape. There are eight ways to insert a floppy disk into a computer, and only one of them is correct. What if the user inserts the floppy sideways? The designer took care of that too. If you look closely at the floppy disk, you will notice that it is not actually square, but rectangular. So it is simply impossible to insert it sideways. I tried to insert the floppy disk upside down. She was only halfway through the hole. The protrusions and notches do not allow the diskette to go completely, no matter how you insert it: out of eight ways, only one is possible. Great design.

Let's take another example: a marking pencil. It has a rib, but only on one side, all other sides look the same. Having carefully examined the pencil, you can see that on the one hand it is pointed, and therefore draws better. It is designed in such a way that, taking it, you involuntarily put your thumb on the rib and, naturally, draw a line with the pointed side. If you take the pencil in a different way, the lines will not be as distinct, and it will not be as comfortable to hold it. Thus, the rib is an excellent designer hint: both practical and visible, and unobtrusive.

There are many examples of good design, where every detail is carefully thought out, the design takes into account all the mistakes and mistakes that the user could make, and the items are endowed with the functions that he would like to see in them.

But if there are so many good things, why are they not seen in stores? Or do they appear there only for a short time, then to be consigned to oblivion? Once I had a conversation on this subject with one designer.

It usually takes five or six attempts to develop a good design. This may be acceptable for an already established product, but imagine what this means for a completely new thing. Let's say a company wants to release a truly revolutionary product. The problem is that it is fundamentally different from the rest of the existing one and, most likely, it will have to be redone several times. But if from the very beginning this product fails, then neither the second nor even the third presentation will be able to save its reputation.

I asked him to clarify. "Are you saying," I began, "that it takes you five or six tries to get the design right?"

“Yes,” he replied, “at least.”

“But,” I countered, “you said that if a product fails at the first presentation, subsequent attempts are simply useless.”

"Yes," he said.

"So all new products are doomed to fail at their first introduction, no matter how good they are."

“Looks like you got it,” the designer said. – Remember voice commands in complex devices such as cameras, vending machines, photocopiers. Failure. No one even tried to continue to develop this idea. Unfortunately. Actually the idea was good. This is very convenient when your hands or eyes are busy. But the first steps were unsuccessful, and consumers noticed it. Now no one tries to apply it even where necessary.

Technological paradox

New technologies make our lives easier and better, while at the same time creating new challenges and frustrations. The development of technology can be thought of as a parabola: starting at the top, descending to maximum usability, and then climbing up again. Many new devices are confusing and difficult to operate. With the development of new technologies, they become simpler, more reliable and more powerful. But, on the other hand, after new devices come into use, they try to make them even newer, even more powerful, as a result they become too complicated and their reliability decreases. The parabola of development can be seen in the clock, radio, telephone, and television. Let's take the radio. Previously, this device was incredibly complex. To tune a single wave, several knobs were required: for the antenna, for tuning the radio and auxiliary frequencies, and for adjusting the sensitivity and volume. Later models became much simpler. The number of buttons has decreased. They were only needed to turn on the radio, tune the wave and adjust the volume. But nowadays, radio is more complicated than it used to be. Now it is called a tuner and contains a huge number of knobs, buttons, switches, lights, displays and sensors. Of course, modern devices are technologically more advanced. The sound quality is better, the reception is better and there are more opportunities. But then what good is the development of technologies if they are too difficult to apply?

The design problem caused by progress is huge. Let's take a watch. A few decades ago they were small. All that was required of a person was to set the time and remember to start them. For this, on one side of the clock there was a special head. She turned the spring, and the spring wound the watch. To set the time, it was only necessary to move this head to the side. All operations were simple and easy to remember. There was a rational connection between the factory and timing. The design of the watch even took into account a possible user error: the normal position of the crown was intended only for winding, so it was impossible to accidentally rearrange the hands.

In modern watches, the spring has been replaced by a battery-operated mechanism. All that is required of a person is to set the time. The head of the watch is the same: you can turn the hands faster or slower, forward or backward. However, watches have become much more complex (and therefore more expensive) than conventional mechanical ones. If the change were only to replace the winding mechanism with a battery-operated mechanism, there would be practically no problems. But the fact is that new technologies have made a multifunctional device out of ordinary watches, with which you can determine the day of the week, month and year. The watch can be used as a stopwatch (which performs several functions on its own), a timer, and an alarm clock (or two); with their help, you can find out the time in other time zones; You can use them as a counter and even a calculator. But the added features create additional challenges: how do you pack so many features into a watch and keep the size, cost, and ease of use? How many buttons should there be so that the watch can work and its functions are easy to remember? And how do you keep the price the same? There is no simple answer. Whenever the number of features exceeds the number of controls, the design becomes arbitrary, unnatural, and complex. The same technologies, on the one hand, make our life easier with a variety of functions, and on the other hand, complicate it by making it more difficult to memorize and use these functions. This is the technological paradox.

But a technological paradox by no means justifies poor design.

Of course, with the increase in functions and capabilities, the number and complexity of controls increases. However, good design helps overcome these challenges.

In one of my courses, I gave the task to design a multifunctional watch-radio.

You have been hired to design a new company product. Your task is to combine the following functions in one device:

AM-FM radio;

Cassette recorder;

CD player;

Telephone;

Answering machine;

Alarm clock (instead of a regular call, a radio, cassette or CD may be turned on);

Table lamp or night light.

The company has not yet decided whether to include a small (5 cm diagonally) TV and an electrical outlet for a coffee maker or toaster in this list.

Define your actions for each item. Prove the benefits of your offer.

Draw a sketch of the control panel and briefly justify and analyze the factors that influenced your choice.

I considered each answer from the standpoint of some requirements for the device (Fig. 1.15 is the wrong decision.) The first requirement: compliance with the real needs of the consumer. I thought that students should visit potential users to determine the correct design of a multifunctional device. The second requirement: the practicality and clarity of the buttons, that is, whether the user can perform the desired function without unnecessary errors. Usually watch-radios are used in the dark, lying in bed and not looking at the device itself. The device must be protected against accidental incorrect button presses. (Unfortunately, not all clock radios have this protection. You can, for example, reset the time by accidentally pressing the wrong button.) And the third requirement: the device must be relatively inexpensive and aesthetically pleasing. The final model must be tested among consumers. The purpose of the assignment is to make the student aware of the technological paradox: multifunctionality causes difficulties in operation, but competent design minimizes this drawback.

Rice. 1.15. One of the possible solutions to my problem. Absolutely unusable (thanks to Bill Gaver for the development)

Psychology of action

When my family and I went to the UK, we rented a house there while the owners were away. One day the mistress of the house came for some personal papers. She went into the study and tried to open the top drawer of her desk, but it wouldn't open. She pushed him forward, backward, left, right, but to no avail. I offered my help. I tugged at the drawer, then twisted the front panel, pressed hard on it, and tapped it with my palm. The box opened. "Oh," the woman sighed, "I'm sorry, but I don't understand anything about mechanics."

False self-accusation

I have studied the psychology of users who, while working with mechanical devices, switches, fuses, computers, processors, aircraft, and even nuclear power plants, make mistakes, and sometimes very serious ones. All of them, without exception, felt guilty and either tried to hide the mistake or accused themselves of being "stupid" and "clumsy." It was often difficult for me to get permission from an employee to observe his work: no one wanted anyone else to see his mistakes. I have noticed that poor item design often results in different users making the same mistakes. And yet, if the task seems simple or insignificant, people primarily blame themselves for the missteps. And it looks like they are proud of their mechanical incompetence.

Once, at a large computer company, I was asked to evaluate a new product. I spent a whole day studying and checking it. The keyboard had one drawback: the "return" and "enter" buttons did not differ much from each other. By confusing the buttons, the user could destroy the work of the last few minutes.

I told the designer about this, adding that I myself made a similar mistake several times, therefore, other users will also make it. The designer's first reaction was: “Why did you make this mistake? Didn't you read the manual?" He then launched into an explanation of the difference between the two buttons.

“Of course,” I began, “I understand the difference between the two, but I confuse them. They are similar and side by side, and as an experienced typist, I often hit the back button automatically. Therefore, others may also make the same mistake.”

“No,” said the designer, and stated that I was the only one who complained, and that company secretaries have been using this keyboard for many months. I did not let up, and we decided to ask if the employees ever confused these two buttons on their own. And did they have to redo the work because of this?

“Oh, yes,” all the secretaries replied, “this problem has arisen many times.”

"Why didn't anyone say this?" we asked them. After that, we asked them to report any difficulties with the new product.

The reason was simple: if the system stopped working or worked poorly, it was considered a problem, but confusion in the buttons was not considered a problem. The secretaries blamed themselves for this. In the end, they were explained that they were mistaken and what needs to be done in such situations.

Of course, people tend to make mistakes. Operation of a complex device without first reading the instructions often leads to errors. However, the task of designers is to ensure that these errors do not lead to serious consequences. Here are my own thoughts on the matter.

If a mistake is possible, someone will definitely make it. The designer must foresee all possible errors and try to minimize the likelihood of their occurrence. Errors should be easily recognizable and, if possible, reversible and should not lead to serious consequences.

Everyday misunderstandings

Our life is full of various misunderstandings. And this is not surprising: we often have to deal with unfamiliar situations. But mistakes and misunderstandings give us invaluable life experience. Most misunderstandings fall under the categories of "naive" or "popular misconceptions". And such misconceptions exist not only among ordinary people: Aristotle developed a theory of physics that today's physicists are unlikely to take seriously. However, Aristotle's physics is more focused on everyday life than the modern theories that we are taught in school. Aristotle's physics is usually called "naive" physics.

However, one can understand the "wrongness" of these naive views only by studying the physics that is considered "correct".

Naive physics of Aristotle

Aristotle, for example, believed that objects continue to move only if some force moves them. Modern physicists, on the other hand, say the opposite: an object continues to move if it is not interfered with by some other force. This is Newton's first law, which significantly influenced the development of modern physics. However, anyone who has ever pushed a heavy box across the floor or made his way over rough terrain knows that Aristotle was right: if you don't make an effort, the movement will stop. Of course, I. Newton and his followers assumed the absence of friction and air resistance. Aristotle did not live in such ideal conditions. Counteracting the force of friction, the object gradually stops. Perhaps Aristotle's views are not related to physics at all, but they describe what we observe in the real world. Try to answer the following questions.

1. I take a pistol and, pointing it at the target, shoot in a strictly horizontal direction. In my other hand, I hold the bullet so that the bullet in the pistol and the bullet in my hand are at the same distance from the ground. I drop this bullet at the same time as the shot. Which one will hit the ground first?

2. Imagine a person running with a ball in their hands. As he continues to run, he releases the ball. On what trajectory: A, B or C (Fig. 2.1) will the ball fly?

Rice. 2.1. Running man with a ball. Which trajectory will the ball follow: A, B or C? When this question was asked to sixth graders in Boston schools, only 3% of students chose answer A, while the rest were roughly evenly divided between answers B and C. This question was also not solved by high school students who studied Newtonian mechanics for a month and a half: only 20% (question asked 41 students) chose the correct answer, the rest were again divided between answers B and C. (Study conducted by White & Horwitz in 1987. Figure taken from the book: McCloskey (1983). Intuitive Physics, Scientific American, Inc. All rights reserved )

The physicist will say that the problem with the bullets is simple: they both hit the ground at the same time. The fact that the speed of a bullet traveling horizontally is much greater does not affect its vertical fall speed at all. Is this answer correct? And if we take into account the fact that the bullet will rise up a little (like an airplane) due to air resistance? This way it will stay in the air a little longer. Who knows? Physics is based on laws that do not take into account air resistance. A popular misconception in general is that a bullet fired from a pistol will fall much later. But this misconception is not so uncommon.

In the case of the falling ball, we can assume that the ball will fall vertically. But in fact, the ball will fall along the trajectory A (Fig. 2.1). The running person is carrying the ball, so it gets horizontal acceleration. If the person releases it, the ball will keep the direction of movement, but will invariably approach the ground.

Naive physics, like naive views in psychology and other sciences, is in many ways reasonable, although theoretically incorrect. But sometimes these views become the source of our troubles. Despite this, we must find a way to "digest" unknown information, because man is a thinking being.

Human beings are explainers

Mental models (of things, events and behavior) are the result of our desire to get to the bottom of things. Such models are needed. They help us understand our mistakes, predict the outcome of actions and prevent their undesirable consequences. These models are based on our knowledge: real or fictional, naive or scientifically based.

Mental models are often created on the basis of incomplete arguments, poor understanding of the situation, and taking into account causes, mechanisms and relationships that may not actually exist. Wrong patterns breed frustration, like my refrigerator. My idea of ​​the operation of the refrigerator (see Fig. 1.9A) did not correspond to reality (see Fig. 1.9B). But in systems as complex as an industrial plant or a passenger aircraft, the problem of the model is of particular importance, because a mistake can lead to fatal consequences.

Imagine a room heater. How does he work? The device itself gives us almost no clues. We just enter the room, we feel that we are cold, and turn it on. After a while it gets warmer. Note that the same mechanism works in the microwave oven (and in the clay kiln, and in the air conditioner, and in almost all devices associated with temperature changes). Want to bake a cake, but the oven is off? Turn it on, and soon it will heat up to the desired temperature. Is the room very hot? Turn on the air conditioner. And yet, how does a thermostat work?

If you want to quickly heat up a room, do you need to turn the heater on full blast to do so? Or turn the oven control to maximum to quickly heat it up to operating temperature? Or set the air conditioner to maximum cooling to quickly reduce the temperature in the room?

If you think a thermostat turned on full blast will heat (or cool) a room or oven faster, you're wrong. This suggests that you adhere to the common opinion in everyday life. Basically, there are two theories associated with thermostats: time and energy. The timing theory says that the thermostat controls the duration of the appliance. If you set the thermostat switch to half, the appliance will work half the time, if you set it to maximum, all the time. It follows that in order to quickly heat or cool the room, you need to turn on the thermostat so that the device works as long as possible. According to energy theory, a thermostat controls the amount of heat (or cold) that comes from an appliance. This means that by turning on the heater at full power, you will get maximum heat or cold.

But the thermostat is really just an on/off switch. In devices such as a heater, stove, air conditioner, there is only an on / off mode and no intermediate ones. Thanks to the thermostat, the heater, stove or air conditioner heats up to the set temperature (working at full power), and then automatically turns off. If you set the thermostat to maximum, this will not affect the heating rate of the device in any way.

The purpose of the example is not to show that there are false ideas about certain phenomena, but that a person tries in some way to explain everything that he sees. In the case of the thermostat, it can be seen that the design of the device does not provide any explanation as to the mechanism of its operation. The lack of explanation leaves room for the imagination. This is how erroneous mental models appear.

Finding someone to blame

– Look here! exclaimed my colleague. – The system is blocked. It's all a library! Every time I connect to the library directory I get problems. Now I can't even check my email!

“Something is wrong here,” I said. You can't even turn on the computer. Can a program cause such damage?

“All I know,” he replied, “is that everything was working fine until I tried to browse the directory with this new library program. After that, the computer stopped working. I have always had problems with this program. This cannot be a mere coincidence.

And it really was just a coincidence. It turned out that the cause of the problem was a burnt wire. This fact had nothing to do with the computer program. The coincidence led to false conclusions.

I said earlier that users often blame themselves when they have technical problems. In reality, everything is somewhat more complicated. They are trying to find the cause of what happened. It happens that they find a random connection between two objects or events that just happen to be next to each other or follow each other. If, before the result of P, I perform the action D, I can assume that it was D that caused P, even if (as in the example above) there is no connection between D and P. The situation becomes much more complicated when we attribute a contrived result to an action and do not get it, or when we get a result due to random actions.

Who is guilty? There is no exact answer. The psychology of accusation (or, more precisely, attribution of guilt) is confusing and not completely clear. There must be a clear causal relationship between the accused action and the result. The word understandable is defining: it happens that there is no causal relationship, it is only a person who thinks that it exists. Sometimes, by attributing blame to objects that have nothing to do with the action, we do not notice the true reason for what happened.

One of the main aspects in the attribution of guilt is the lack of information on the basis of which it is possible to draw the appropriate conclusions. The information we have may be false. Thus, condemnation or approval may have nothing to do with reality. It is for this reason that the apparent simplicity of an object can cause difficulties. I want to use a regular item, but it doesn't work for me. Whose fault is it: mine or the subject's? We often blame ourselves for this. If we believe that others know how to handle the device and this is not difficult, then we conclude that our inability is to blame.

Let's assume that the error lies in the device itself, therefore, other users also have similar difficulties. And since many believe that they themselves are to blame, then no one wants to admit a mistake. There is a conspiracy of silence between users, which maintains in each of its participants a sense of guilt and hopelessness.

Interestingly, the tendency of self-accusation contradicts the person's ideas about himself. In general, people tend to blame others for their problems.

Let's take an example. Imagine troubled employee Tom. Today he was late for work, slammed the door and yelled at his colleagues. “Oh,” the whole team sighed. - He's unhappy again. He's so emotional that he always explodes over little things." Now let's hear Tom's opinion. “Today is a really hard day for me,” he says. “I overslept because when the alarm went off, I decided to reset it so I could lie around for another five minutes, but instead I messed up the time and slept for another hour. The alarm clock is to blame. I didn't even have time to drink my morning coffee. Due to being late, I couldn't find a place to park. After that, because of the haste, I scattered the documents all over the sidewalk, and they naturally got dirty. When I decided to have a cup of coffee, the coffee maker was empty. It's not my fault, it's the coincidence. Yes, I was somewhat rude to my colleagues, but who wouldn't flare up in a situation like this? I think they will understand me."

But Tom's colleagues don't think so. They are unaware of Tom's thoughts, much less of his failures. All they see is Tom yelling at them from behind an empty coffee maker. And it reminds them of other similar cases. “He’s always like this,” they conclude. “He loses his temper over trifles.”

The situation is the same, but its vision is different. The main character Tom regards his actions as a response to life's troubles. Observers, on the other hand, consider Tom's actions to be the result of a quick-tempered, unbalanced nature.

It seems natural to blame someone for one's - and not only - mistakes. However, if everything goes well, we may observe the opposite. When everything is in order, the employee praises himself: "I did a good job today, there is no doubt that we will complete this project successfully." Observers see the exact opposite. If someone succeeds, the merit is usually attributed not to the person himself, but to his environment: “Joan was lucky today, she was just standing in the right place when the boss came in. Therefore, all the praise went to her. Some are lucky!”

In any case, if a person blames himself or others for the inability to deal with everyday things, the reason for this is an incorrect mental model.

Learned helplessness

A phenomenon called learned helplessness helps explain the reason for self-blame. It refers to cases where, as a result of numerous unsuccessful attempts, a person begins to think that the task is beyond his strength and considers himself helpless. If this feeling arises in other circumstances, it can greatly complicate life. In extreme cases, acquired helplessness leads to depression and the person's belief that he is not capable of anything in life at all. Most often, the cause of this feeling is ordinary troubles, which are often perceived as a harbinger of prolonged depression.

Enforced helplessness

Is learned helplessness the cause of phobias related to technology and mathematics? Is it possible, after a few mistakes in simple situations related to mathematical calculations or the application of technology, to speak of a general trend? Probably. The design of common things (as well as math textbooks!) practically guarantees this. This phenomenon is called enforced helplessness.

Given poor design (which often leads to misunderstanding), faulty mental models, and insufficient feedback, it's no surprise that users feel guilty when they have problems using different devices. Especially if they believe (even if erroneously) that such difficulties arise only for them. Or take the school mathematics curriculum, where each new lesson requires complete knowledge and understanding of the material of all previous ones. Although the math rules are not difficult, but if you fall behind, it will be difficult for you to catch up. Result: fear of mathematics. And not because the material is difficult, but because difficulties at one of the stages can develop into a misunderstanding of the rest of the material. The same applies to technology. It's a vicious cycle: things don't work out, and you blame yourself and think you're incapable of anything. Next time you don't even take on something like that. You are driving yourself into a trap.

The Nature of Human Thought and Interpretation

It is not always easy to understand who is to blame. There are many dramatic examples, the cause of which is an incorrect assessment of the situation. Highly qualified, well-trained people are working on complex equipment, and suddenly something goes wrong. The first thing to do in such a situation is to establish the cause of what happened. For the most part, production equipment is quite reliable. But if the device stops working normally, you should first consider the possibility of problems in the device itself. Often this decision is correct. However, an operator's misjudgment of the cause of equipment problems can lead to serious consequences.

In production, you can find a lot of vivid examples of erroneous conclusions. After carefully examining the consequences of the incidents, analysts wonder how such a mistake could have been made. However, from the point of view of the worker who committed it, his actions at that moment were absolutely natural. At the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant, operators pressed a button to close an open valve that allowed excess water to escape from the reactor core. The valve was damaged, so it was impossible to close it. The light on the control panel showed that it was closed. However, this bulb did not indicate the position of the valve, but that an electrical impulse was directed towards it. The controllers knew about it. Why didn't they suspect something was wrong? The dispatchers monitored the temperature in the pipe that led to the valve and saw that it did not drop, therefore, the water continued to rise. But they knew the valve was leaking, and that was the explanation for the high temperature in the pipe. The dispatchers knew that the leak was small, so it could not harm the entire process. But they were wrong: the water continued to flow, thereby bringing disaster closer. I think the behavior of dispatchers is quite understandable: the mistake was in the design of the device, during the development of which such a situation was not taken into account.

Similar misunderstandings occur at every turn. I have studied many plane crashes. Take this example: Lockheed flight L1011 from Miami, Florida to Nassau, located in the Bahamas. The plane was already over the Atlantic Ocean, 170 km from Miami, when a light came on on the console, which indicated low oil pressure in one of the three engines. One pilot turned off that engine, turned the plane around, and flew back to Miami. Eight minutes later, the instruments showed that the other two engines were also out of order and the amount of oil in all three engines was zero. What did the team need to do? They couldn't believe it! After all, as one pilot later said, the chance of all three engines running out of oil at the same time is one in a million. The report from the American National Transportation Safety Board stated the following: "The analysis of the problem was carried out by the crew correctly, and other pilots in a similar situation would most likely have done the same."

What happened? The second and third engines did indeed run out of oil and shut down. None of the engines worked: one was turned off when the device showed that it had run out of oil, the other two stopped working on their own. The pilots began to prepare the plane for an emergency landing on the water. They were too busy to properly instruct the rest of the crew, so the passengers were not ready for this turn of events. Panic broke out in the salon. At the last minute, as the plane almost hit the water, the pilots managed to start the first engine and land safely in Miami. At the end of the runway, this engine also stopped working.

Why did all three engines fail? Due to oil leakage caused by the absence of several O-rings. O-rings were installed by two mechanics (one was responsible for the wings, the other for the tail section). How could two different people make the same mistake? It turns out that the way the rings were installed that day was changed. Of course, the whole story is much more complicated. In fact, there were four main shortcomings: the absence of sealing rings, a violation of the maintenance procedure, an incorrect assessment of the current situation, and poor briefing of passengers. Fortunately, no one was hurt. Analysts from the National Transportation Safety Board wrote a good report.

With me, as with everyone, there were similar misunderstandings. My family and I were driving from San Diego to Mammoth, California. This is about 800 km on flat terrain, that is, 10-12 hours of driving. With every kilometer we saw more and more ads and advertisements for hotels and casinos in Las Vegas, located in the state of Nevada. “Strange,” I thought. “Of course, advertising for Las Vegas establishments can be found far from the city itself (there is even a billboard in San Diego), but on the way to Mammoth, it’s too much.” We stopped for gas and continued on our way. And only when we started looking for a place to stop, we discovered that two hours earlier, even before refueling, we turned at the wrong turn. So we were on our way to Las Vegas, not Mammoth, and ended up wasting four hours. Now we remember it with a smile, but at that moment we were not laughing.

When we find an explanation, we rejoice. But our explanations are based on previous experience, which in this situation may be completely inapplicable. In the case of the Three Mile Island station, the leaky valve experience provided a logical explanation for the conflicting temperature data. In the case of the Miami to Nassau flight, the lack of experience with all three engines running out of oil at the same time led to the assumption that the instruments had failed. In the story of the trip, it turned out to be easy to explain the excessive number of billboards. As soon as we get an explanation (correct or false) of contradictory or confusing events, any surprise or contradiction disappears. As a result, we are proud of ourselves, at least for a while.

Seven steps of action

I am attending a conference in Italy. Watching another speaker futilely trying to install film in a projector that I've never used in my life. He first inserts the reel, then takes it out and turns it over. Someone comes up and offers to help. Together they pull the film through the projector and begin discussing how to attach it to the take-up reel. Two more people approach, then another. The voices become louder, speech is heard in three languages: Italian, German and English. Someone begins to alternately press all the buttons and announce the result of the action. The confusion is growing. I can no longer watch what is happening. Suitable organizer. After a while, he turns to the audience, who are sitting quietly waiting, and asks, "Um, does anyone know about projectors?" Finally, 14 minutes after the speaker started to insert the tape (and the talk was scheduled to start eight minutes ago), the technician appears. He furrows his brows, quickly removes all the film from the projector, reloads it, and everything starts working.

What prevents you from doing the right thing (for example, inserting a reel)? To answer this question, you need to understand the process of performing actions.

The main idea is simple. To do something, you must first want to do it, that is, you need to set a goal. After that, you need to perform the action itself: do something on your own or with someone's help.

At the end, you need to check whether the goal has been achieved or not. Therefore, four different concepts need to be considered: goal, action, change in the surrounding world, and verification of the result. The action itself consists of two main aspects: fulfillment and estimates(Fig. 2.2).

Rice. 2.2. Action cycle. An action has two aspects: execution and evaluation. Doing means the action itself. Evaluation is a comparison of the actual result of an action with the desired one (with our goal)

Real tasks look more difficult. The initial goal is never unambiguous, it is vague, for example: “eat something”, “work”, “dress”, “watch TV”. These goals do not define exactly what needs to be done: where and how to go, what to take, etc. In order for the goal to be achieved, it must be transformed into certain statements that would tell exactly what to do. These statements I have called intentions. A goal is a vague definition of an end result. And intentions are specific actions that are performed to achieve the goal. But intentions are not yet specific enough to control actions.

Suppose I am sitting in a chair and reading a book. Already evening. The room is getting darker. I decide that I need more light (goal: add light). My intention is to perform the usual action of pressing the switch on the desk lamp. But in doing so, I have to figure out how to move the body, how to reach for the switch, how to stretch my finger to press the button (and not knock the lamp off).

The goal should develop into an intention, and the intention into a chain of sequential actions and muscle movements. Note that I could achieve this goal with a different sequence of actions and different intentions. If someone entered the room and walked past the lamp, I would give up my intention to press the button myself and ask to do it for me. The goal has not changed, the intention and the chain of actions have changed.

Concrete actions fill the gap between our goals and intentions and all possible real actions. Having defined the actions, we must execute them - this is the execution phase. Thus, goal setting is followed by three main stages: intention, definition of a sequence of actions and their implementation (Fig. 2.3). The evaluation of the result consists of the following three stages: the first is the perception of changes in the surrounding world, the second is the interpretation (understanding) of these changes, and the third is the comparison of the result with the desired one (Fig. 2.4). Thus, we have seven stages of action (Figure 2.5) - one for the goal, three for the implementation, and three for the evaluation:

Formation of the goal;

Formation of intention;

Determining the sequence of actions;

Taking action;

Perception of changes in the surrounding world;

Interpretation of changes;

Evaluation of the result.

Rice. 2.3. Stages of execution. Let's start from the top, with the goal, that is, with what we want to get. This goal develops into an intention to take action. The intention is converted into a number of internal commands, that is, into a definition of the sequence of actions necessary to implement the intention. Determining the sequence of actions is still a mental aspect, so nothing happens until these actions are performed.

Rice. 2.4. Assessment stages. Evaluation begins with the perception of changes in the surrounding world. Then this perception is interpreted in accordance with expectations and compared (evaluated) with intentions (Fig. 2.3) and goals.

Rice. 2.5. Seven steps of action. Here are combined Fig. 2.3 (intentions, determination of the sequence of actions and implementation of these actions) and fig. 2.4 (perception, interpretation and evaluation)

These seven steps form a rough model for achieving the goal. Not all of them are always involved. Most actions do not require going through all the steps in order, and most actions cannot be completed in a single action. There should be several chains of actions, and the action itself can last several hours and even several days. This is a constant feedback: the result of one action makes it possible to do the next, the main goal (and intentions) is divided into secondary ones. It happens that the main goal is forgotten, discarded or formulated in a new way.

The goals and intentions of daily actions cannot be clearly defined, because they are more situational than planned. Situational actions are actions that are conditioned by the situation. A person does not plan and does not analyze future actions. He just does it when the opportunity presents itself. We don't have to worry about activities like going to the store, going to the library, or asking a friend a question. We just follow our daily routine, and when we happen to be in the store, near the library, or meet a friend, we use the opportunity. If this is not possible, the action remains unfulfilled. Situational actions are not as precise and specific as concrete goals, but they involve less mental effort, are less inconvenient, and perhaps more enjoyable.

The seven-step process can be started at any stage. We don't always start it with thinking about the main goal and its subsequent implementation. Goals are often misunderstood or misunderstood. Sometimes we adapt to external factors (the so-called externally conditioned behavior). These external factors can act as a trigger that triggers our interpretation of the situation and the resulting response to it. Actions can be performed without being fully thought out. Some of us build our lives in such a way that it is the world around us that influences their behavior. For example, when I have an important task to complete, I make a public promise to complete it by a certain date. I know that I will be reminded of this promise. And then a few hours before the deadline, I get to work and do it. This kind of behavior is entirely consistent with the seven-step process.

End of introductory segment.

Reprinted with permission from The Wall Street Journal, © Dow Jones & Co., Inc. 1986. Copyright reserved.

W. H. Mayall (1979). Principles in design (p. 84).

The concept of "assignment" was first used by J. J. Tibsoy, a psychologist who studied the subjective vision of the world. I am convinced that the appointment is the result of a mental interpretation of the subject, based on lived experience and existing knowledge. My point of view does not coincide with the opinions of the followers of Gibson, but this has nothing to do with my book. (See: Gibson, 1977, 1979.)

D. Fisher & R. Bragonier, Jr. (1981). What's what: A visual glossary of the physical world. The washbasin parts list was taken from this book. I am grateful to James Greer Miller for telling me about it and for giving me his copy to read.

I. Biederman (1987) shows where the number 30,000 came from in his article Recognition-by-components: A theory of human image understanding.

For this example (and many others) I am grateful to Mike King.

More complex systems have already been put into operation. An example of such an innovation is voice messages, which record a call for later playback. Such a system was developed by IBM for the 1984 Olympic Games. It was quite difficult back then. The phone could record messages that came to the athletes from friends and colleagues from all over the world. Users spoke different languages, and some of them were not familiar not only with the American telephone system, but with high technology in general. However, thanks to the successful application of psychological laws and constant field testing during development, the system became practical, understandable and functional. Good design is not difficult if you strive for it from the very beginning. (See the description of the telephone system in Gould, Boies, Levy, Richards, & Schoonard, 1987.)

Unfortunately, putting the blame on the user is built into the law. If a serious accident occurs, official commissions of inquiry are set up to find the perpetrators, which increasingly refer to the cause of the accident as a “human factor”. The perpetrator can be fined, fired, or jailed. Perhaps someone will make changes to the training programs. The law worked out well. But from my experience, I can say that human error is often the result of bad design, so it should be called a system error. We are all wrong. This is inherent in our nature and should be provided for in the design. Of course, it is easier to shift responsibility to a person, but why then release a system that can fail due to one mistake? Book

Design of everyday things

Preface to the second edition

"Norman's Doors"

“I just found Norman's door. It's really hard to open it."

I became famous for hard-to-open doors and obscure switches and shower faucets. Pretty much anything that creates unnecessary trouble is named “Norman stuff” after me by some journalists: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman faucets.

This is not exactly what I was aiming for when I started writing the book. I wanted to use my ideas to support good design, things that we could use with a smile on our face. Without thick instructions and outside help. Alas. For years I have studied the human brain, memory, attention, learning ability and motor control - only to be remembered at the sight of bad doors.

And yet I got my way. Too many things in our world are designed, released and forced on us without understanding or even caring about how we will use them. The definition of "Norman's door" indicates an oversight on the part of the designer, which is what I tried to show in the book. I rejoice in the letters that I receive and in which I find new examples. I rejoice in the appearance of beautiful things.

I rejoice that many designers require their subordinates to read Design of Everyday Things. This book has become popular. So show me more "Norman stuff": doors; water taps; food packaging that can only be opened with your teeth. Show me more car stereos like the one in my car, with rows of tiny identical buttons that are hard to hit while driving.

These issues may seem trivial, but they often make the difference between joy and sorrow. The principles that govern the performance of simple and familiar things also apply to complex systems, including those in which human lives are at stake. Most disasters are blamed on human error, which was almost 100% the result of poor design. The principles on which quality, user-friendly design should be based not only make operation easier, they can save lives.

Hidden disappointments

Prior to writing this book, I worked in the field of cognitive science and was interested in the human brain. I studied human perception, memory and attention. I watched how people learn, how they work. Over time, I developed an interest in human error. I hoped that by understanding the essence of these mistakes, I could teach others to avoid them. Just at that time there was an accident at the American nuclear power plant Three Miles Island, and I found myself in a group of psychologists who were to find out why the controllers made such a terrible mistake. To my surprise, we came to the conclusion that they were not to blame: the responsibility for what happened lay with the design of the control room. The control panels at many nuclear power plants do look like they were made specifically to make the controller make a mistake.

Interest in these kinds of incidents led me to study methods to help eliminate them. During my year-long vacation, which I spent in Cambridge at the world famous department of applied psychology, I was often surprised and upset at the sight of design flaws. I could not figure out which switches were responsible for lighting in the classrooms. It was the same with the doors. Some had to be pushed, others had to be pulled, and at least one had to be pushed away, and their appearance did not give any clues. The water faucets were no better either. On some sinks, the hot water valve was on the left, on others - on the right. Moreover, when employees made a mistake using these devices, they blamed themselves. Why?

I began to observe how the people around me managed to cope with the devices that flooded our lives. Later, my research expanded into aviation safety, industrial plants, medical bugs, and a wide range of consumer products such as computers and electrical appliances. And everywhere I saw frustrated and confused users. To make matters worse, serious accidents were commonly cited as "human error". Careful analysis showed that often the culprit was poor design or improper assembly of equipment. Designers and installers did not pay enough attention to the needs of users, so misunderstandings and mistakes were almost inevitable. Whether it was a kitchen stove or a nuclear power plant, a car or an airplane, a heater or a computer, users faced the same problems. In all cases, design flaws led to subjective errors.

The feeling of disappointment that haunted me in the UK led me to write The Design of Everyday Things, but the issues I touched upon in the book are universal for all countries and continents. At the time of writing it, I was particularly interested in the principles of human cognition. And suddenly I realized that I was literally fascinated by how these principles could be applied in order to improve the quality of life and avoid many mistakes and accidents. I changed the direction of my research and focused on the use of objects and their design. Just at that time, I was granted a year off from the university, so I could devote myself fully to my work. I worked at Apple Computer and after a while became vice president of high technology. In order to apply my ideas as widely as possible, I became the CEO of two other companies and, together with a colleague Jason Nielsen, founded a consulting firm (Nielsen Norman Group). I took great pleasure in seeing how the principles of familiar things were brought to life.

Book Title: Design Lesson

This book has been published under two titles. The first - The Psychology of Habitual Things - was more liked by my scientist friends. The second one - Design of familiar things - better reflected the essence of the book. The editor explained to me that in stores, readers, wandering around the bookshelves with their eyes, pay attention first of all to headings and, based on them, form their own opinion about books. In addition, I noticed that the presence of the word "psychology" led to the fact that the book was placed in the psychological section, which was usually visited by readers who were interested in the relationship between people, and not between a person and objects. Readers who were interested in design rarely looked into the psychological department. I went to bookstores and watched the customers. I spoke with the sellers. My editor was right: I should have replaced the word "psychology" with the word "design". When I titled the book, I was as nearsighted as designers who invent devices that are awkward to use! In choosing the first title, I catered to myself personally and did not take into account the perception of readers. Therefore, now you are holding the Design of familiar things in your hands.

Lessons in this book

If you have difficulty using certain items - doors, computers or switches - it's not your fault. Don't beat yourself up. It's all the designer's fault. This is the fault of technology or, more precisely, design.

If we see an object for the first time, how can we know what to do with it? How do we deal with tens of thousands of objects, many of which we encounter only once in a lifetime? These questions inspired me to write this book. I very quickly realized that the answers to them were the hints embedded in the design. Thus, the information should be located not only in the head, but also in the surrounding world.

When I wrote the book, this idea was considered a little strange. Today she is a success. Many developers have recognized the fact that design should tell what the device is for, how it works, what can be done with it, and - through feedback - what happens to it at a given point in time. Design is communication, which involves a deep understanding by the developer of the person with whom he communicates through design.

The Design of Everyday Things is Donald Norman's classic book about the things that surround us and why they were designed the way they are. Donald Norman sorts through dozens of items that we use every day, in an interesting and reasoned way about the mistakes made in their design. Beautiful is not always convenient. Sometimes a kettle can be dangerous, and the front door can throw you off balance.

"The Design of Everyday Things" is a real reference book of design finds and mistakes. The book is worth reading for both those who design and those who use it. Norman will help them understand each other, making the world around them better.

book characteristics

Date of writing: 2002
Name: Design of everyday things

Volume: 350 pages, 59 illustrations
ISBN: 978-5-91657-625-2
Translator: B. L. Glushak
Copyright holder: Mann, Ivanov and Ferber

Introduction to The Design of Everyday Things

I wanted to write this book for a long time, but I didn't realize it. For many years I have made mistakes, walking through doors, turning on faucets, using everyday things. "It's my fault," I mumbled. “This is all my technical incompetence.” But when I started studying psychology and observing the behavior of others, I noticed that I was not alone. Others have had the same problems as me. And everyone seemed to have only themselves to blame. Could the whole world be technically incompetent?

Little by little I began to understand what was going on. Scientific research led me to the study of human error and industrial accidents. I have found that we are not always clumsy. And we are not always wrong. But still, we are mistaken when we use objects that we know little about and which are distinguished by poor design. However, we still consider human error to be the cause of all human ills. Passenger plane crashed? “Pilot error,” read the report. Exploded Chernobyl nuclear power plant? "Dispatcher error," newspapers write. Did two ships collide? "Captain's mistake," officials say. However, after careful analysis of such incidents, a different assessment is usually given. Responsibility for the disaster at the well-known American power plant Three Miles Island was placed on the dispatchers, who made erroneous conclusions about the malfunction of the system. But was it their fault? How do you like the phrase itself: “made erroneous conclusions about the malfunction”?

It implies that there were indeed malfunctions (serious mechanical damage). Then why wasn't equipment failure named as the cause of the failure? Now about erroneous conclusions. What prevented dispatchers from noticing the problem? Or maybe the dispatchers did not have the necessary tools and they did everything in accordance with the rules? And what about the safety valve that did not close, although the dispatcher pressed the right button and even the corresponding light lit up? Why was the dispatcher accused of not checking the readings of two more instruments (one of which was on the back of the control panel) and not determining the presence of a problem? (In fact, he tested one of them.) Human error? But it seems to me that this is a hardware malfunction and a serious designer's mistake.

So what is the reason for my inability to use ordinary things? After all, I have no problems with fairly complex equipment: computers, electronics and laboratory equipment. Why do I have difficulty with doors, switches and faucets? How is it that I work with a multi-million dollar computer system and can't handle my refrigerator? Blaming ourselves, we do not notice the real culprit - faulty design. As a result, millions of people consider themselves technically mediocre. The time has come for change.
That is why the book "Psychology of habitual things" appeared.

This work is the result of my frustrations with the inept use of everyday things and my growing knowledge of practical and cognitive psychology. The combination of experience and knowledge made the appearance of the book possible and even necessary, at least for me and my well-being.

I give it to you: partly polemical, partly scientific; partly funny, partly serious.

"Norman's Doors"

“I just found Norman's door. It's really hard to open it."

I became famous for hard-to-open doors, obscure switches, and shower faucets. Pretty much anything that creates unnecessary trouble is named “Norman stuff” after me by some journalists: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman faucets.

This is not exactly what I was aiming for when I started writing the book. I wanted to use my ideas to advocate good design for things that we could use with a smile on our faces. Without thick instructions and outside help. Alas. For years I have studied the human brain, memory, attention, learning ability and motor control - only to be remembered at the sight of bad doors.

And yet I got my way. Too many things in our world are designed, released and forced on us without understanding or even caring about how we will use them. The definition of "Norman's door" indicates an oversight on the part of the designer, which is what I tried to show in the book. I rejoice in the letters that I receive and in which I find new examples. I rejoice in the appearance of beautiful things.

I rejoice that many designers require their subordinates to read The Design of Everyday Things. This book has become popular. So show me more “Norman stuff”: doors, faucets, food packages that can only be opened with your teeth. Show me more car stereos like the one in my car, with rows of tiny identical buttons that are hard to hit while driving.

These issues may seem trivial, but they often make the difference between joy and sorrow. The principles that govern the performance of simple and familiar things also apply to complex systems, including those in which human lives are at stake. Most disasters are attributed to human error, which is almost 100% the result of poor design. The principles on which quality, user-friendly design should be based not only make operation easier, they can save lives.

Hidden disappointments

Prior to writing this book, I worked in the field of cognitive science and was interested in the human brain. I studied human perception, memory and attention. I watched how people learn, how they work. Over time, I developed an interest in human error. I hoped that by understanding the essence of these mistakes, I could teach others to avoid them. Just at that time there was an accident at the American nuclear power plant Three Miles Island, and I found myself in a group of psychologists who were to find out why the controllers made such a terrible mistake. To my surprise, we came to the conclusion that they were not to blame: the responsibility for what happened lay with the design of the control room. The control panels at many nuclear power plants do look like they were made specifically to make the controller make a mistake.

Interest in these kinds of incidents led me to study methods to help eliminate them. During my year-long vacation, which I spent in Cambridge at the world famous department of applied psychology, I was often surprised and upset at the sight of design flaws. I could not figure out which switches were responsible for lighting in the classrooms. It was the same with the doors. Some had to be pushed, others had to be pulled, and at least one had to be pushed away, and their appearance did not give any clues. The water faucets were no better either. On some sinks, the hot water valve was on the left, on others - on the right. Moreover, when employees made a mistake using these devices, they blamed themselves. Why?

I began to observe how the people around me managed to cope with the devices that flooded our lives. Later, my research expanded into aviation safety, industrial plants, medical bugs, and a wide range of consumer products such as computers and electrical household appliances. And everywhere I saw frustrated and confused users. To make matters worse, serious accidents were commonly cited as "human error". Careful analysis showed that often the culprit was poor design or improper assembly of equipment. Designers and installers did not pay enough attention to the needs of users, so misunderstandings and mistakes were almost inevitable. Whether it was a stove or a nuclear power plant, a car or an airplane, a heater or a computer, users faced the same problems. In all cases, design flaws led to subjective errors.

The frustration that haunted me in the UK led me to write The Design of Everyday Things, but the issues that I touched upon in the book are universal for all countries and continents. At the time of writing it, I was particularly interested in the principles of human cognition. And suddenly I realized that I was literally fascinated by how these principles could be applied in order to improve the quality of life and avoid many mistakes and accidents. I changed the direction of my research and focused on the use of objects and their design. Just at that time, I was granted a year off from the university, so I could devote myself fully to my work. I worked at Apple Computer and after a while became vice president of high technology. To apply my ideas as widely as possible, I became the CEO of two other companies and founded a consulting firm (Nielsen Norman Group) with a colleague Jacob Nielsen. I took great pleasure in seeing how the principles of familiar things were brought to life.

“I just found Norman's door. It's really hard to open it."

I became famous for hard-to-open doors, obscure switches, and shower faucets. Pretty much anything that creates unnecessary trouble is named “Norman stuff” after me by some journalists: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman faucets.

This is not exactly what I was aiming for when I started writing the book. I wanted to use my ideas to advocate good design for things that we could use with a smile on our faces. Without thick instructions and outside help. Alas. For years I have studied the human brain, memory, attention, learning ability and motor control - only to be remembered at the sight of bad doors.

And yet I got my way. Too many things in our world are designed, released and forced on us without understanding or even caring about how we will use them. The definition of "Norman's door" indicates an oversight on the part of the designer, which is what I tried to show in the book. I rejoice in the letters that I receive and in which I find new examples. I rejoice in the appearance of beautiful things.

I rejoice that many designers require their subordinates to read The Design of Everyday Things. This book has become popular. So show me more “Norman stuff”: doors, faucets, food packages that can only be opened with your teeth. Show me more car stereos like the one in my car, with rows of tiny identical buttons that are hard to hit while driving.

These issues may seem trivial, but they often make the difference between joy and sorrow. The principles that govern the performance of simple and familiar things also apply to complex systems, including those in which human lives are at stake. Most disasters are attributed to human error, which is almost 100% the result of poor design. The principles on which quality, user-friendly design should be based not only make it easier to use, they can save lives.

Hidden disappointments

Prior to writing this book, I worked in the field of cognitive science and was interested in the human brain. I studied human perception, memory and attention. I watched how people learn, how they work. Over time, I developed an interest in human error. I hoped that by understanding the essence of these mistakes, I could teach others to avoid them. Just at that time there was an accident at the American nuclear power plant Three Miles Island, and I found myself in a group of psychologists who were to find out why the controllers made such a terrible mistake. To my surprise, we came to the conclusion that they were not to blame: the responsibility for what happened lay with the design of the control room. The control panels at many nuclear power plants do look like they were made specifically to make the controller make a mistake.

Interest in these kinds of incidents led me to study methods to help eliminate them. During my year-long vacation, which I spent in Cambridge at the world famous department of applied psychology, I was often surprised and upset at the sight of design flaws. I could not figure out which switches were responsible for lighting in the classrooms. It was the same with the doors. Some had to be pushed, others had to be pulled, and at least one had to be pushed back, without their appearance giving any clues. The water faucets were no better either. On some sinks, the hot water valve was on the left, on the other - on the right. Moreover, when employees made a mistake using these devices, they blamed themselves. Why?

I began to observe how the people around me managed to cope with the devices that flooded our lives. Later, my research expanded into aviation safety, industrial plants, medical bugs, and a wide range of consumer products such as computers and electrical household appliances. And everywhere I saw frustrated and confused users. To make matters worse, serious accidents were commonly cited as "human error". Careful analysis showed that often the culprit was poor design or improper assembly of equipment. Designers and installers did not pay enough attention to the needs of users, so misunderstandings and mistakes were almost inevitable. Whether it was a stove or a nuclear power plant, a car or an airplane, a heater or a computer, users faced the same problems. In all cases, design flaws led to subjective errors.

The frustration that haunted me in the UK led me to write The Design of Everyday Things, but the issues that I touched upon in the book are universal for all countries and continents. At the time of writing it, I was particularly interested in the principles of human cognition. And suddenly I realized that I was literally fascinated by how these principles could be applied in order to improve the quality of life and avoid many mistakes and accidents. I changed the direction of my research and focused on the use of objects and their design. Just at that time, I was granted a year off from the university, so I could devote myself fully to my work. I worked at Apple Computer and after a while became vice president of high technology. To apply my ideas as widely as possible, I became the CEO of two other companies and founded a consulting firm (Nielsen Norman Group) with a colleague Jacob Nielsen. I took great pleasure in seeing how the principles of familiar things were brought to life.

Book Title: Design Lesson

This book has been published under two titles. The first, The Psychology of Ordinary Things, was more liked by my scientist friends. The second, The Design of Everyday Things, better reflected the essence of the book. The editor explained to me that in stores, readers, wandering around the bookshelves with their eyes, pay attention first of all to headings and, based on them, form their own opinion about books. In addition, I noticed that the presence of the word "psychology" led to the fact that the book was placed in the psychological section, which was usually visited by readers who were interested in the relationship between people, and not between a person and objects. Readers who were interested in design rarely looked into the psychological department. I went to bookstores and watched the customers. I spoke with the sellers. My editor was right: I should have replaced the word "psychology" with the word "design". When I titled the book, I was as nearsighted as designers who invent devices that are awkward to use! In choosing the first title, I catered to myself personally and did not take into account the perception of readers. So now you are holding the Design of Everyday Things in your hands.

Lessons in this book

If you have difficulty using certain items, such as doors, computers, or switches, it is not your fault. Don't beat yourself up. It's all the designer's fault. This is the fault of technology, or, more precisely, design.

If we see an object for the first time, how can we know what to do with it? How do we deal with tens of thousands of objects, many of which we encounter only once in a lifetime? These questions inspired me to write this book. I very quickly realized that the answers to them were the hints embedded in the design. Thus, the information should be located not only in the head, but also in the surrounding world.

When I wrote the book, this idea was considered a little strange. Today she is a success. Many developers have recognized the fact that design should tell what the device is for, how it works, what can be done with it, and - through feedback - what happens to it at a certain moment. Design is communication, which involves a deep understanding by the developer of the person with whom he communicates through design.

Preface to the second edition

"Norman's Doors"

“I just found Norman's door. It's really hard to open it."

I became famous for hard-to-open doors, obscure switches, and shower faucets. Pretty much anything that creates unnecessary trouble is named “Norman stuff” after me by some journalists: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman faucets.

This is not exactly what I was aiming for when I started writing the book. I wanted to use my ideas to advocate good design for things that we could use with a smile on our faces. Without thick instructions and outside help. Alas. For years I have studied the human brain, memory, attention, learning ability and motor control - only to be remembered at the sight of bad doors.

And yet I got my way. Too many things in our world are designed, released and forced on us without understanding or even caring about how we will use them. The definition of "Norman's door" indicates an oversight on the part of the designer, which is what I tried to show in the book. I rejoice in the letters that I receive and in which I find new examples. I rejoice in the appearance of beautiful things.

I rejoice that many designers require their subordinates to read The Design of Everyday Things. This book has become popular. So show me more “Norman stuff”: doors, faucets, food packages that can only be opened with your teeth. Show me more car stereos like the one in my car, with rows of tiny identical buttons that are hard to hit while driving.

These issues may seem trivial, but they often make the difference between joy and sorrow. The principles that govern the performance of simple and familiar things also apply to complex systems, including those in which human lives are at stake. Most disasters are attributed to human error, which is almost 100% the result of poor design. The principles on which quality, user-friendly design should be based not only make it easier to use, they can save lives.

Hidden disappointments

Prior to writing this book, I worked in the field of cognitive science and was interested in the human brain. I studied human perception, memory and attention. I watched how people learn, how they work. Over time, I developed an interest in human error. I hoped that by understanding the essence of these mistakes, I could teach others to avoid them. Just at that time there was an accident at the American nuclear power plant Three Miles Island, and I found myself in a group of psychologists who were to find out why the controllers made such a terrible mistake. To my surprise, we came to the conclusion that they were not to blame: the responsibility for what happened lay with the design of the control room. The control panels at many nuclear power plants do look like they were made specifically to make the controller make a mistake.

Interest in these kinds of incidents led me to study methods to help eliminate them. During my year-long vacation, which I spent in Cambridge at the world famous department of applied psychology, I was often surprised and upset at the sight of design flaws. I could not figure out which switches were responsible for lighting in the classrooms. It was the same with the doors. Some had to be pushed, others had to be pulled, and at least one had to be pushed back, without their appearance giving any clues. The water faucets were no better either. On some sinks, the hot water valve was on the left, on the other - on the right. Moreover, when employees made a mistake using these devices, they blamed themselves. Why?

I began to observe how the people around me managed to cope with the devices that flooded our lives. Later, my research expanded into aviation safety, industrial plants, medical bugs, and a wide range of consumer products such as computers and electrical household appliances. And everywhere I saw frustrated and confused users. To make matters worse, serious accidents were commonly cited as "human error". Careful analysis showed that often the culprit was poor design or improper assembly of equipment. Designers and installers did not pay enough attention to the needs of users, so misunderstandings and mistakes were almost inevitable. Whether it was a stove or a nuclear power plant, a car or an airplane, a heater or a computer, users faced the same problems. In all cases, design flaws led to subjective errors.

The frustration that haunted me in the UK led me to write The Design of Everyday Things, but the issues that I touched upon in the book are universal for all countries and continents. At the time of writing it, I was particularly interested in the principles of human cognition. And suddenly I realized that I was literally fascinated by how these principles could be applied in order to improve the quality of life and avoid many mistakes and accidents. I changed the direction of my research and focused on the use of objects and their design. Just at that time, I was granted a year off from the university, so I could devote myself fully to my work. I worked at Apple Computer and after a while became vice president of high technology. To apply my ideas as widely as possible, I became the CEO of two other companies and founded a consulting firm (Nielsen Norman Group) with a colleague Jacob Nielsen. I took great pleasure in seeing how the principles of familiar things were brought to life.

Book Title: Design Lesson

This book has been published under two titles. The first, The Psychology of Ordinary Things, was more liked by my scientist friends. The second, The Design of Everyday Things, better reflected the essence of the book. The editor explained to me that in stores, readers, wandering around the bookshelves with their eyes, pay attention first of all to headings and, based on them, form their own opinion about books. In addition, I noticed that the presence of the word "psychology" led to the fact that the book was placed in the psychological section, which was usually visited by readers who were interested in the relationship between people, and not between a person and objects. Readers who were interested in design rarely looked into the psychological department. I went to bookstores and watched the customers. I spoke with the sellers. My editor was right: I should have replaced the word "psychology" with the word "design". When I titled the book, I was as nearsighted as designers who invent devices that are awkward to use! In choosing the first title, I catered to myself personally and did not take into account the perception of readers. So now you are holding the Design of Everyday Things in your hands.

Lessons in this book

If you have difficulty using certain items, such as doors, computers, or switches, it is not your fault. Don't beat yourself up. It's all the designer's fault. This is the fault of technology, or, more precisely, design.

If we see an object for the first time, how can we know what to do with it? How do we deal with tens of thousands of objects, many of which we encounter only once in a lifetime? These questions inspired me to write this book. I very quickly realized that the answers to them were the hints embedded in the design. Thus, the information should be located not only in the head, but also in the surrounding world.

When I wrote the book, this idea was considered a little strange. Today she is a success. Many developers have recognized the fact that design should tell what the device is for, how it works, what can be done with it, and - through feedback - what happens to it at a certain moment. Design is communication, which involves a deep understanding by the developer of the person with whom he communicates through design.

Although there are many topics covered in The Design of Everyday Things, there are three main ones.

1. This is not your fault. If anything has become popular lately, it's this simple thought: if you're having trouble with something, it's not your fault, it's the design's fault. Every week I receive letters and emails from readers thanking me for saving them from feeling incompetent.

2. Design principles. I have made it a rule never to criticize anything until I can offer some solution. The book covers several key design principles that developers can use to make their creations understandable and usable. Here are the main ones. (Note that although they are simple, they are very important.)

conceptual model. The human brain is an amazing organ. With its help, we try to find meaning in all the events that take place around us. Our biggest frustration is trying to learn how to do something that seems completely random and inconsistent. Even worse, we often make mistakes when we don't understand something. Let's take a heater. When a person enters the house and feels that it is cold there, in order to heat the air in the rooms as soon as possible, he usually turns on the device to the maximum. This decision follows from the internal conceptual model of the heater operation. This is a convenient and understandable model, although somewhat ill-conceived. And erroneous. But how can a person know this? Although this model is not suitable for a room heater, it perfectly reflects the operation of most car heaters: they need to be turned on at full power, and when the temperature rises to the required level, the heat is reduced. To understand how a device works, you need to know its conceptual model. Room heaters, air conditioners, and even home ovens have only two modes of operation: full power and no operation. Therefore, they always heat up or cool down to the required temperature as quickly as possible. In this case, setting the heater to maximum, you will achieve nothing but a waste of electricity after raising the room temperature to the desired level. Now consider the car. Here the conceptual model is different. The stove and air conditioner also operate in only two modes: maximum power and inactivity, but in many cars the temperature in the cabin is controlled by mixing cold and hot air. This means that by turning off the mixing (turning on the stove to the maximum), you can quickly raise the temperature and after that set the regulator to the desired position. These are examples of simple conceptual models, very simplified, but sufficient to understand the operation of the device. These patterns define our activities at home and in the car. A good conceptual model is the line between the right and the wrong use of many things. From this short lesson, we can conclude that good design is also a communication between the developer and the user, which is carried out through the appearance of the device. The thing should speak for itself. Even knobs require a conceptual model—a visual and natural relationship between their location and function (I call this “natural fit” in the book). If the designer is unable to present a clear conceptual model, we have to create our own, and often erroneous. The concept model is an important part of good design.

Feedback. It is very important that the result of the action is visible. Lack of feedback breeds unnecessary speculation. The button may not have been pressed hard enough; maybe the device has stopped working or the function that you need is not performing at all. Due to the lack of feedback, we can turn off or restart the equipment in an untimely manner and, as a result, destroy all the work done. Or repeat the command and force the machine to perform the task again. Feedback is extremely important.

Limiters. To make a thing easy to use, you need to exclude all possible wrong actions, that is, limit their choice. Do you want people to correctly insert batteries and memory cards into a camera? Design them so that they cannot be inserted in any other way, or that the camera works properly regardless of their position. The lack of limiters is one of the reasons for the appearance of all kinds of warnings and instructions, all these tiny and illegible diagrams located in awkward places and often not differing in color from the camera body. We have to look for instructions on doors, cameras and various equipment. Here's a rule of thumb: if an item requires instructions to use (click here, paste here, turn it off before doing anything), the design is bad.

Appointment. A good designer makes acceptable actions visible and unacceptable actions invisible. The idea of ​​“perceived purpose” presented in the book has, to my delight, become very popular in the world of designers and constructors.

3. The power of observation. If I manage to convey my ideas to you, your perception of the world will inevitably change. You will no longer look at doors and switches the way you looked before. You will begin to look closely at the people around you, objects and their interaction. If I had to limit myself to just one remark, I would give you this advice: learn to observe, learn to see. Watch yourself. Watch others. As the famous baseball player Yogi Berra said: "By watching, you can see a lot." But you must know how to look. If you had met an inept user before reading The Design of Everyday Things, you would have blamed all the mistakes on him. Now you will criticize the design. Even better, you will start looking for a way to solve the problem.

Since the book was published, the design of some products has been great, while others have been terrible. The number of companies that take into account the needs of customers and hire good designers is growing every year. However, the number of firms that ignore the needs of consumers and produce unusable products seems to be increasing even faster.

The confusion caused by the development of technology is growing every year. The heavy use of the Internet, mobile phones, portable audio players, and a wide variety of portable wireless communication devices shows how important these technologies are to us. However, websites are often incomprehensible, mobile phones are too complicated, and the dashboard in a car resembles an airplane control panel. We see new objects when we enter a house, get into a car, or walk down the street. As soon as new technologies appear, companies forget the lessons of the past and allow designers, who are driven only by the desire to expand the range of functions, to create their fantastic creations. As a result, confusion and despair are growing.

Remote control of the house is the secret dream of technocrats. They think about how, while driving a car, call home and turn on the heater or air conditioner, fill the bath with water or make a cup of coffee. Some companies already offer products that make this possible. But why do we need them? Think about how many problems arise with a conventional car radio. Now imagine how, while driving a car, you will monitor household electrical appliances. I'm already shaking with dark forebodings.

The concept of "design" is ambiguous. Engineers are designing bridges and dams, electrical circuits and new types of materials. The word is used in fashion, construction, interior and landscape design. Some designers and constructors, being artists by nature, pay more attention to external beauty. Others care about the price. Although the book only highlights the relevance of the design to the needs of the user, this is far from the only factor that is taken into account in the process of developing a thing. And all these factors are important. That is why design work is so complex and revered. After all, the final product must satisfy all obviously contradictory requirements.

Developing a user-centric design requires that all factors are considered and taken into account from the very beginning. Most of the items are intended for human use, so the requirements and needs of the latter must be taken into account in the design process. In this book, I cover only one aspect of this work: how to make a thing understandable and practical. I focus on it because it is this aspect that has been neglected for so long. The time has come for him to take his rightful place. This does not mean that practicality should be the main goal of the designer: great design involves harmony and balance between aesthetic beauty, reliability and safety, practicality, price and functionality.

Don't sacrifice beauty for practicality or practicality for beauty. No need to sacrifice cost or features, time to produce or sell. You can create a thing that is original and practical, enjoyable and absolutely comfortable. Art and beauty play an important role in our lives. And in good design, they must be present.

Technology changes fast, people change slowly

Although quite a lot of time has passed since the writing of the book, in it, oddly enough, almost nothing needs to be changed. Why? Because it is aimed at us, consumers, how we interact with the world of things. This interaction is determined by physiology, psychology, social and cultural framework. Human physiology and psychology are practically unchanged, culture and society change very slowly. Moreover, choosing illustrative examples for the book, I deliberately refused to take high technologies and turned to everyday things. High technologies are developing rapidly, but ordinary life is not in a hurry to change. As a result, the book has not become outdated: all the problems raised in it have not lost their relevance, and the principles mentioned apply to both low-tech and high-tech devices.

Question. In your book, you talk about the design of everything from phones to doorknobs, focusing on the four elements of design: purpose, constraints, compliance, and feedback. But you didn't say anything about computers. Do your recommendations apply to them?

Answer. I also talked about computers. I deliberately didn't use them (or other digital devices) as examples because I wanted to show that the principles that doorknobs and switches should be based on apply to computers, digital cameras, mobile phones, aircraft and nuclear control panels. power plants, and, of course, vice versa.

Question. Do you think developers are good at designing the latest high-tech devices?

Answer. No. Every time new technologies come out, new designers make the same terrible mistakes as their predecessors. They don't learn from their experience. Techies look only ahead, so they repeat the mistakes of the past again and again. Modern wireless devices sometimes terrify me. Their developers simply need to read The Design of Everyday Things.

We can see the same thing with websites. In early developments, the experience of predecessors was completely ignored, which crossed out several years of movement towards practicality and understandability. Over time, as users became more experienced, they began to demand a better design, and things went smoothly. Whenever a new technology catches on, people stop paying attention to colorful advertising promises, and there is a demand for practical and understandable design. Then the manufacturers revise the design and apply to it the same principles on which the design of the previous generation of equipment was based. The most egregious mistakes are made by the developers of the latest technologies.

One of the goals of this book is to show the power of design. After reading it, at a minimum, you should learn to distinguish good design from mediocre, ill-conceived, and not meeting the goals.

Technology can change quickly, but people change slowly. The principles, lessons and examples of the Design of Everyday Things are based on an understanding of the essence of man. They will be relevant at all times.

Don Norman

Northbrook, Illinois, USA