Nobody likes to be observed performing badly
Read on Medium.com Photo by Ashim D’Silva on Unsplash. Doors shouldn’t be hard to open. Donald A. Norman agrees. His book, “The Design of Everyday Things” was my first peek at the principles of design. His book’s original title was, “The Psychology of Everyday Things,” and it was this psychology that entranced me, a young educator earnest in my desire to be more effective for more students. I was assigned his book in Visual Literacy, a required course in my Master’s program, a course I wish had been included in my undergraduate work. Its inclusion would have spared many former students the brain melting boredom of my early PowerPoint presentations. “I have become famous for doors that are difficult to open, light switches that make no sense, shower controls that are unfathomable. Almost anything that creates unnecessary problems, my correspondents report, is a ‘Norman thing’: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman shower controls.” – Donald A. Norman, “The Design of Everyday Things” (preface) Doors shouldn’t be hard to open, but the door I found Tuesday morning was. It was a standard issue commercial door made from glass and aluminum. Yes, I was distracted. Yes, I could have given this door more attention. Yes, I launched myself into it. I bet I sounded like that grape lady, but louder and angrier. Less whimper, more cursing. Thankfully, I didn’t fall as much as collide; once an o-lineman, always an o-lineman. Coach Westre would’ve been proud. “Gak! Stupid door!” I snarled. But then I remembered, this is a Norman door. At once this warm realization washed my shame and embarrassment away. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t need to feel stupid. I imagined him watching me perform this trivial task badly, and was encouraged. “I have studied people making errors — sometimes serious ones — with mechanical devices, light switches and fuses, computer operation systems and word processors, even airplanes and nuclear power plants. Invariably people feel guilty and either try to hide the error or blame themselves for their ‘stupidity’ or ‘clumsiness.’ I often have difficulty getting permission to watch: nobody likes to be observed performing badly. I point out that the design is faulty and that others make the same errors. Still, if the task appears simple or trivial, then people blame themselves. It is as if they take perverse pride in thinking of themselves as mechanically incompetent.” – DOET, p. 34 Have you run into any doors lately? Design Matters We prove this by what we buy, how we furnish our homes, what we wear, and in the things we like. Well-designed objects and experiences permeate our identities because they make us feel as though they were made for us. As in just for us – bespoke. They make us feel understood, seen, valued, and known. The power of design is how it informs, and is informed by, our identity. That power exerts itself in each classroom daily, either wounding or healing. Design principles guide effective human interaction. Design teaches the user something; all design does this, not just good design. Let’s look more closely at the relationship between design and blame, specifically when a user doesn’t engage with the designed thing in the way the designer intended – like me drive-blocking that door, for example. Norman’s story demonstrates the power of design to wound: I was once asked by a large computer company to evaluate a brand new product. I spent a day learning to use it and trying it out on various problems. And using the keyboard to enter data, it was necessary to differentiate between the “return” key and the “enter” key. If the wrong key was tapped, the last few minutes work was irrevocably lost.I pointed this problem out to the designer, explaining that I myself had made the error frequently and that my analyses indicated that this was very likely to be a frequent err