Many of these same forces also influence the design process in other fields as well, including UX. Architects are trained to identify the optimal balance of these forces that can yield the most successful outcome for a particular project. Some building designs are driven primarily by plastic/aesthetic concerns:

while others are more utilitarian:

The architect would be doing the client a disservice (and be promptly fired) if she were to apply the same balance of forces to these two design projects. On the other hand, finding the right balance for each project is what produces buildings that meet or exceed their owners’ and users’ needs. In short, architecture is an established design field in which plastic concerns, contextual issues, human factors, engineering/technology, and business concerns must be carefully balanced. These same forces are also critical factors in many UX design projects, which is why I think that architecture is a particularly apt field for designers in our field to study.

I mention this because I still occasionally find colleagues, clients, and prospects who seem to think of web design primarily as “graphic design for the web”. A few weeks ago I received an email from a major local retailer wanting me to bid for the “design” of their new online store. Launch date was less than three weeks away, and the budget was very low (even by third world standards). It was clear that they expected a cosmetic intervention on top of a structure (an experience) that had already been defined and produced, probably by a programmer. The managers of this company are savvy enough to employ architects when they want to build a new (physical) retail store; they don’t just put up a shed and call in a “designer” to paint the walls and hang banners three weeks before opening date. What makes them think their online store is different?

Websites are more like physical spaces than they are like brochures, posters, magazines, and other traditional graphic design deliverables. People go to these “places” to meet friends, transfer money, buy books, look up information, etc. With the possible exception of the last one, these are not the sorts of activities that visual design usually facilitates. Attraction, persuasion, and communication — three primary functions of graphic design — are also important functions that websites must fulfill, but (again) are among many factors that need to be balanced.

An effective web-based experience can’t be produced solely on the basis of aesthetic criteria. There are too many other forces pulling the project in different directions. The UX designer’s role is to understand these forces, aim for the optimal balance, and then clarify and communicate the vision for the project. Clients seem to understand that this is what architects do. We’ve already moved away from the use of the term “information architecture” to describe the high-level, strategic work that guides design for the web. However, it behooves us to continue looking at architecture as a source of inspiration for how we approach design and how we communicate the value we provide.

Photos: frescotours, dougww.

A few weeks ago I had to go to the Panamanian immigration office to take care of some paperwork. When I got there, I found chaos. There must have been two thousand people waiting in two dozen different lines that didn’t move, all poorly labeled or not labeled at all. There was no obvious information desk where I could ask for help. I had a choice: arm myself with patience and try to trudge through this mess, or return early some other day before the office had filled up. I opted for the latter.

I visited the immigration office’s website to look for their operating hours. I found this:

As you can see, this widget helpfully gives 1) the address of the office, 2) their phone number, and 3) their operating hours, which they list as being 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM, Monday through Friday.

I first tried calling, but the number was busy or otherwise unresponsive. I decided to visit the office at opening time some other day. Last Tuesday I got up early and drove to the immigration office (which, I must add, is in a seedy part of town). I arrived at 7:20 AM and wasn’t surprised to find an old lady and a group of Colombian immigrants already ahead of me. Clearly these folks had the right idea.

Or not! Turns out we were all duped. 7:30 came and went without any signs of life from within the office building. Then I noticed this sign outside the main door:

8:00?! What the hell! This is not what the website sa… Oh, I see. The website can’t be trusted.

It was now ten til eight, and it was starting to get hot. The Colombians crossed the street to look for shade, joining a crowd of close to twenty people who were now waiting for the office to open. The older lady asked me if I knew at what time the office would open. “Eight AM, I guess,” was my reply, at this point uncertain even though the opening time was clearly, definitely stated. In metal. Bolted to the wall.

And I was right to be skeptical, because (you guessed it!) eight AM came and went and the doors remained shut. Still, the crowd — almost thirty people at this point — crossed the street to gather around the entrance. Those of us who’d gotten there early tried to keep our places towards the front, but there was no line and confusion started to give way to opportunism. “Were you first?” “No, I think this lady was.” “No, I got here first!” Etc.

When the doors finally opened, an older man with an extraordinary mustache appeared. “You can’t come in,” was the first thing he said. (No, not even “good morning”.) “I’m only opening the door to allow our workers in. The office doesn’t open til 9 AM.” At this point I laughed. “What about the sign on the wall?” I asked. “Oh, don’t mind that,” he said, “that’s Nestlé’s.” Yes, that Nestlé. The largest food company in the world. And, as it happens, the previous tenant of the building. Who moved to a new office in a nicer part of town. DECADES AGO.

The official with the mustache then asked us, one by one, why we were there, apparently to help direct us to the right paperwork. Great! Except he made no effort to help us in the order in which we’d gotten there (those in the front first.) Instead, he dealt with us in what seemed to be order of attractiveness, starting with a woman in expensive sunglasses and a revealing top, moving on to a cute young Colombian student in tight jeans way in the back, and so on. The older lady (the first one there) looked at me and sighed.

I will spare you the rest of the miserable experience. Instead, I’ll try to distill what made this small interaction so frustrating to see if there’s anything that can be learned from it.

These are the main points of failure I can see:

• Inability to communicate structure/order. I’m sure there must have been some logic to the way lines were organized, but neither the building or the signage (what little there was) offered any clues as to what that logic was. As a new user, I had no way into the system and no mental model to guide me. If this office was a website, you would say it lacked a clear navigation structure.
• No fallback navigation. If you can’t express structure, at least provide an alternate means of navigation. Many public offices have an information desk, usually staffed by some of the most knowledgeable members of the institution. If this office had such a thing, I couldn’t find it. In a website, this function is provided by the search box and FAQs.
• Useless communication channels. The only thing worse than a useless channel is a useless channel that superficially appears to be useful. If you have no intention of answering the phone, then for heaven’s sake don’t publish your phone number!
• Contradictory content. The organization’s website gave one opening time, the building another, and the official who “helped” us yet a third. Only the last was authoritative, but the information seemed arbitrary — especially when compared to the metal plaque bolted to the fricking wall.
• Arbitrary authority. The official who dealt with us seemed to be following rules devised for his own benefit (apparently to win points with the ladies.) Rules should be fair, clear, and beneficial to customers. This is especially important when those rules define the organization’s interactions with customers.

Bottom line: after the first couple of interactions, I started questioning everything this organization said and did. They lost my trust early on, and every subsequent touchpoint made it worse.

From the user’s perspective, these issues seem relatively simple to solve. Why would any organization fail in such obvious ways? Here are some possible reasons:

• Team members lack empathy for their customers
• Team members lack respect for the value they can (should) provide
• Team members lack an understanding of quality or benchmarks to measure it
• There are no viable communication channels between teams
• No one has a top-level view of what goes on with customers
• No one is calling the shots

In my opinion, the last point is crucial. The fact that an organization can limp along with such obvious flaws is a sign of a dysfunctional culture, both at the organizational and societal levels. They are signs of a leadership vacuum.

I’ve come to understand that the opposite of UX design is not shitty design, thoughtless design, or piecemeal design. It is anarchy. Only strong leadership with a clear user-centric vision can transform the organization’s culture and improve the experience of its constituents. Design is a form of leadership, and UX designers should be well-versed in the literature of leadership not because we should aspire to C-level positions, but because it helps us do our jobs more effectively.

• My second daughter, Ada, was born.
• I bought out my partners in BootStudio.
• I wrapped up a few of my non-work commitments, including my roles in the IA Institute and Boxes and Arrows.

These things are not unrelated.

In parallel, two other important shifts happened during this time:

• Twitter became my main venue for publishing pithy throwaway comments.
• Facebook became my main venue for reconnecting with friends and family.

As a result, I’ve been trying to figure out what role this site plays in my toolbox. I was toying with the idea of discontinuing the blog altogether, and last week even went as far as replacing the homepage with a static one page site with links to my main social media accounts. I regretted it almost immediately.

So this is the deal: I’ll be using this site as a notebook where I will work out half-baked ideas, primarily about (but not limited to) IA and UX design. I hope it’s of interest to someone else, but that won’t be the driving factor. Let’s see where it goes.

• Stephen P. Anderson – product strategy and design consultant
• Christian Crumlish – Curator of the Yahoo! design pattern library, and co-author of the upcoming book Designing Social Interfaces
• Jeff Dachis – CEO, Dachis Group and cofounder of Razorfish
• Erin Malone – Principal, Tangible UX, and co-author of the upcoming book Designing Social Interfaces
• Leisa Reichelt – UX designer and researcher, currently working on the UX for Drupal 7
• Christina Wodtke – Principal Product Manager at LinkedIn, and co-author of the book Information Architecture: Blueprints for the Web
• Luke Wroblewski – Director, Product Ideation and Design, Yahoo!
• … and many others!

There will also be a pre-conference workshop on September 14 led by Nathan Curtis of EightShapes; this promises to be an excellent opportunity to learn how to craft effective deliverables from one of the world’s top experts in the field.

Design for the social web is one of the hottest areas in UX today. I encourage you to register today to attend IDEA 2009! (BTW, you can take advantage of special Early Bird pricing if you register before August 15. Update: early bird pricing has been extended til August 22!)

Note: because of previous personal and professional commitments, I’m unfortunately not going to be able to travel to IDEA this year. However, that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t go!