Metamorphosis

Erik Stolterman and I have been thinking about the issue of turning non-designers into designers (that would be you!). We see our students moving through three transitions:

(I) Pre-emergence
(II) Transitional
(III) Designerly Thinking

Characteristic of each of these transitions is a penetration of barriers. Rather than progression along a smooth continuum, students penetrate these (intellectual, practical, psychological and social) barriers in a step-like function.

I’d like to share these barriers with you and get your comments (David Royer and Sindhia Thirumaran contributed to the list as well). Perhaps you have additional barriers to suggest, or ones to eliminate or modify.

Barriers (numerals in parentheses indicate the transitional stage(s) where the barrier occurs)

1. Design definitions. Naïve designers’ conception of HCI/d includes mostly graphic design and interface design; experienced designers also include interaction design, experience design, emotional design, and systems design. (I)
2. Best solution. Naïve designers hold onto the belief that there is a best solution; experienced designers believe there exist many solutions and judged by critical criteria and presented through a design argument or explanation. (I)
3. Technology-centered vs. human-centered. Naïve designers focus on the technology; experienced designers study human behavior, motivation and need. It’s very difficult to “let go” of gadgets and things; there’s an over-fascination with techno-fetishism among naïve designers. (I, II)
4. Me and we. Naïve designers defend their own designs; experienced designers look to their team for inspiration and solutions. (I, II)
5. User research. Naïve designers underplay the role of user research; they know what people want. Tools such as personas are resisted rather than embraced naturally in the design process. Experienced designers do not make assumptions about human desires and motivations; they study it instead. (I, II)
6. IT domination. Naïve designers tend to overemphasize efficiency, effectiveness, scalability; experienced designers include experience and emotion. (II)
7. Idea loyalty. Naïve designers hold onto a single idea; experienced designers engage in systematic exploration of multiple ideas. (II)
8. Algorithm / design paradox. Naïve designers expect to memorize algorithmic solutions to problems; experienced designers learn to deal with ill-structured problems, seemingly paradoxical situations and design thinking. (II, III)
9. Critique culture. Naïve designers worry about school grades; experienced designers welcome critique. (II, III)
10. Notebook. Naïve designers sketch for a particular project; experienced designers sketch continuously, deriving inspiration from all contexts. (II, III)
11. Role. Naïve designers are learning what they do and how to do it; experienced designers begin to defend the position of design in a multi-person development team made up of designers and non-designers. (II, III)
12. Research and philosophy. Naïve designers find solutions in the HCI literature; experienced designers explore philosophical foundations of design as well. (III)
13. Reflective designer. Naïve designers spend little to no time reflecting on how they are designing versus experienced designers who can look at themselves “out of body” as they design. (III)
14. Omnipresence. Naïve designers see design embedded in objects; experienced designers see systems that affect designs and designs that affect systems. (III)
15. External / internal. Naïve designers find external answers to design problems; experienced designers begin to look internally and introspectively for inspiration and resolution. (III)

framing

One of the most important tasks for the team facilitator is “framing.” It’s a way for the facilitator to tell the team what is coming next, why it is important, and what should be the nature of the outcome. A team meeting should be a sequence of frames beginning with the check-in, the main part of the meeting, and then the postmortem or team reflection. Here are some examples:

The check-in frame (of course using your own words):
It’s good to see everyone again. Let’s take a couple minutes at the beginning to share what’s happening in our lives and then we’ll check-in and get down to work. In this frame, the facilitator has set a goal, a limit, and then once that is out of the way, the team can focus, indicating their focus by checking-in.

The goals frame:
Today we have two hours for our meeting, ending at noon today. Here are the goals for our meeting: [list 2-3 goals on the white board] If we can accomplish these, I truly believe we will move our project forward in an important way.
Notice that the facilitator is telling the team why it would be good to accomplish these goals. Of course, this should be followed by a team vote: I propose these goals. One, two, three… [thumb voting]. If there’s a “thumbs down,” the facilitator should ask, What would it take to get you in?

The postmortem frame (10 minutes before the end of the meeting):
We’ve reached the end of our time together. Let’s reflect on our meeting today. Let’s discuss what went well and what didn’t. From this we’ll have a better meeting next time.
Again, the facilitator is framing the next ten minutes by saying what will happen next, how the conversation should proceed, and why it’s important to have this conversation.

Framing can make a huge positive difference in team meetings. It’s one of the most important tools available to the facilitator.

What other team techniques have you found to be useful?

design courage

I recently read the book, Better: A Surgeon’s Notes on Performance, by Atul Gawande. From the book jacket: “The struggle to perform well is universal: each of us faces fatigue, limited resources, and imperfect abilities in whatever we do. But nowhere is this drive to do better more important than in medicine, where lives may be on the line with any decision.” Gawande describes three core requirements for success in medicine:

1. Diligence – attention to detail.
2. To do right — despite moral obstacles.
3. Ingenuity – arising “from deliberate, even obsessive, reflection on failure and a constant searching for new solutions.”

Medicine is a profession that involves risk and responsibility; and so does human-computer interaction design. As we consider Gawande’s core requirements for medicine, what are the parallels in hci/d?

We are half way through the semester; we are at an important turning point as we engage with the problem of homelessness: will we dig deep within ourselves to find our excellence, or will we simply do what’s necessary to complete the task?

Maya Lin is a design hero. At the age of 21, while still an undergraduate at Yale she submitted her design to a competition: the 1982 Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. And, of course, we all know that she was the winner. What is less known is the political battle she endured, often ugly and filled with racist innuendos. Lin understood that to do right (in Gawande’s terms) meant to defend her vision of personal and national loss. Her design allowed the memorial visitor to enter a “pain of loss,” not to purge it but to contemplate it.

Get inspired. Listen to Atul Gawande as he speaks to the Commonwealth Club of California.

what core, whose core?

Deciding on the CORE of a problem is not as obvious as it might seem. In Project #2, the core was specified. However, in Project #3, the core is not obvious. In fact, determining the core of the problem is a major design challenge. (Project #2;  Project #3)

 

What are some ways to think about this problem? In class, we described one way. Think of it as a Venn diagram. Each circle represents a major part of the problem. The intersection represents the common elements and therefore the core to be developed first.

 

But there is another way to think about the core. We can think of a range of emergency situations that may occur, from more typical emergencies (for example, weather conditions resulting in cancelled flights) to extreme emergencies (for example, a terrorist attack in the airport). Certainly the airport administrator needs to think about the extreme possibilities, and in conjunction with Homeland Security, plan what might happen. But what the administrator must worry about on a more frequent basis is the ordinary emergency—the one that repeats a few times a year. For the extreme case, paper plans are put into place, and there might even be a simulation staged with many emergency responder units involved. For the typical case, software and hardware are likely to be developed; the investment is worth it because it will hopefully relieve common passenger problems.

 

 

Finally, a third way to think of the core is as a multi-phased core. Given the more typical problem, the one that will happen versus the one that may never happen, it makes sense to build systems for the first, and to have emergency plans for the second. Or put it another way, if a true terrorist attack hits the airport, the administrator has bigger problems than helping passengers find their next available flight! But for the more typical problem, the one that happens several times a year, better planning is in order. The core of that problem may be divided into phases, with phase 1 being the most important to implement (it’s a minimal system but it’s crucial), phase 2 being less important but providing more human-centered focus, and so on. From this perspective, the core of the core is phase 1, and that’s the place to begin.

 

the thousand mile journey

The “thousand mile journey” has begun; it’s been two weeks since we took our first step. And yet, already, we’ve come so far. One could point to actual skill development: persona creation, usability testing procedures, prototype design, rationale support, presentation skills, and so on. Yet, what I find more interesting are the less explicit conditions that are emerging within the class: the freedom to ask questions, the freedom to make mistakes, the freedom to experiment. I sense a collaborative bond forming in the class — less about competition and more about sharing what we know with each other. As I was leaving the Telecom Building at 5:45 PM, I was very pleased to observe a group of students heading over to Yogi’s to celebrate the completion of Project #1. At the same time, a group of mentors and I were headed in a different direction to discuss how we were to evaluate the submissions.

I do worry about the few students who appear to be observers looking in; it’s important that they throw themselves into the mix. Ask youself: Are you reading the five team blogs? Are you writing too? Are you contributing to the conversation? This course and this program works in proportion to what you give it.

Some months ago at CHI (in San Jose, California), I articulated a set of goals for teaching interaction design: http://www.informatics.indiana.edu/hcid/CHI2007/workshop-papers.htm

• I want students to think like designers.
• I want students to learn to ask questions and not to be afraid of doing so.
• I want students to have “big strategies” in their head, not little disconnected rules of design.
• I want students to know a lot about the design craft.
• I want students to view their fellow students as a source of ideas and stimulation.
• I want students to learn from each other.
• I want students to learn that design is not a linear path.
• I want students to learn that for any craft process there is a context for when to apply it; it doesn’t work in all settings; knowing when to use a process is important.
• I want students to look inside of themselves for their greatest inspiration.
• I want students to reflect on everything they do and to learn from their reflective practice.

It’s happening, and if you allow the course to “work on you” as much as you “work on it,” then it will happen more quickly and in a deeper way.

 One of the companies that I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know through WisdomTools is DDB (see: http://www.ddb.com/DDBWeb/index.html). It’s a global advertising, marketing, and communications company. Their web site says: “DDB builds and delivers unique, enduring, and powerful brand experiences. Along the way we aim to be the world’s most influential communications company.” Look at the guiding principles of DDB (see: Who We Are : Roots):

• Creativity Is The Most Powerful Force In Business
  DDB’s approach is based on a more collaborative and productive relationship with our clients and partners to find the hidden potential of people, brands and business.
• Insight into Human Nature
  We believe that great ideas are generated by the ability to respond creatively to keen insights. One good idea can propel brand for years. At DDB we are looking for insights that incite.
• Respect for the Customer
  DDB was way ahead of the curve when we recognized that brands are in the hands of consumers, not brand managers. Nothing could be more important and relevant today, proving that great ideas endure.
• Respect for Our World
  As communicators DDB is in a position to use our creativity as a force for good. As Bill Bernbach so eloquently put it, “All of us who professionally use the mass media are the shapers of society. We can vulgarize that society. We can brutalize it. Or we can help lift it onto a higher level.”
• Individual Freedom
  Creativity is freedom of expression. At DDB, we believe that to attract the best talent, we must offer an inspiring environment that encourages individual freedom and growth. This idea was critical at the inception of DDB and remains so today. Keith Reinhard took this a step further with the Four Freedoms. They are not just feel-good philosophy. They are good business practice.
  - Freedom from fear
  - Freedom to fail
  - Freedom from chaos
  - Freedom to be
  Download DDB’s Four Freedoms 

Sound familiar?

the design of possibility

One of the challenges of teaching and learning complex skills such as interaction design is that one needs to know everything on day one. I call this the teaching-learning paradox. Think about Project #1. In order to “successfully”complete the thermostat challenge, you need to be an expert in persona creation, evaluation techniques, ethnographic research, graphic design, team collaboration, solution generation (not just creating one or two possible “answers” but generating a dozen or more solutions), writing, presentation skills and so on. And yet, if one waits until you become an expert in each of these arenas, you’d never do the first project.

So, instead, we follow a process of successive approximations. This is a step-wise progression (or approximations) to an idealized goal (in our case, of becoming an interaction design expert). We can never fully get there anymore than we can achieve total wholeness as a human being. However, we can try one thing and another, and hope that we get good feedback (or critique) along the way. We encourage you to “fail rapidly and fail often.” It’s through this process of trying, questioning, failing, and succeeding, all in small steps, that we improve our skills. We teach a little and you do a little.

Again, this is not like math class where we can assign simple problems in the beginning and then systematically increase the complexity of the problems as you learn new concepts and techniques. Even small problems in interaction design, if they have any relevance to the real-world, are messy and difficult to complete.

To make the point even clearer, let’s examine the differences between real world problems and classroom problems. This is adopted from Sternberg, Robert J. (1985). “Teaching critical thinking, part 1: Are we making critical mistakes?” Phi Delta Kappan, 67, 194-198.

In the real world, the first and sometimes most difficult step in problem solving is recognition that a problem exists. In the classroom, the instructor or textbook signals that a problem exists.

In the real world, it is often harder to figure out just what the problem is than to figure out how to solve it. In the classroom, the instructor or textbook provides the problem.

Real world problems tend to be ill-structured. In the classroom, the instructor or textbook defines all aspects of  the problem.

In the real world, it is not usually clear just what information will be needed to solve a given problem, nor is it always clear where the information can be found. In the classroom, needed information to solve classroom or text-based problems is found in the associated chapter or lecture; often parallel problems (examples) are solved for the student.

The solutions to real world problems depend on and interact with the contexts in which the problems occur. Classroom or text-based problems are self-contained; little or no context is provided.

Real world problems generally have no one right solution, and even the criteria for what constitutes a best solution are often not clear. Classroom or textbook-based problems have one right solution; textbook solutions are found in the back of the book.

Solutions to important real world problems have consequences that matter. Solutions to classroom or textbook-based problems have no consequences other than a grade or school advancement.

Real world problem solving often occurs in teams. Classroom or textbook-based problem solving often occurs alone.

Real world problems can be complicated, messy, and stubbornly persistent. Classroom or textbook-based problems are clear, well-defined, and easily forgotten.

While HCI Design I is conducted in a classroom setting, much of what we do is presented in an authentic context. We are trying to simulate what will happen when you enter the workforce, the so-called “real world” (and I’m not talking about the MTV series). The trick for you is to see a world of possibility. Only fear will hold you back, and it will crush you.

I’m reminded of a favorite book by Noah benShea, Jacob the Baker: Gentle Wisdom for a Complicated World (1989). It is the “story about a man whose humble life and profound wisdom are a source of both inspiration and reflection to those around him” (from the book’s inside cover). There’s a short segment about fear:

“A community leader came to see Jacob, hoping to find peace of mind, an ease for his burden.

The man was troubled by a repetitive dream that he did not understand.

‘Jacob, in my dream, I have traveled a long distance and am finally arriving at a great city. But, at the entrace to the city, I am met by a tall soldier who says that I must answer two questions before I am admitted. Will you help me?’

Jacob nodded.

‘The first question the soldier asks is ‘What supports the walls of a city?”

‘That is easy,’ said Jacob. ‘Fear supports the walls of a city.’

‘But what supports the fear?’ asked the man. ‘For that is the second question.’

‘The walls,’ answered Jacob. ‘The fears we cannot climb become our walls.’”

it’s a mystery

I don’t know who’s more excited about the first lecture — the students (mostly first year Master’s students in HCI/design, but also a hand-full of other graduate students and several advanced undergraduates) or me.  It’s strange. Even after teaching a version of this course for over 22 years, I still put a lot of work into preparing for it. The preparation began last spring when David Royer (my graduate assistant) and I analyzed last year’s class to find out what worked and what needed improvement. Then over the summer I began the slow process of review and change. Over the last three weeks, I’ve put a couple hundred hours into preparing the materials, the new communications systems (which I needed to learn myself), and thinking through the examples and specific plans for the first day. I’m exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. Will they even notice?

So, for those of you reading this blog without much context, let me tell you about the course. It’s about HCI design. When I first came to the School of Informatics in 2001, I told the dean that I would be willing to direct the program (now under the very able leadership of Erik Stolterman) if we could emphasize design (vs. cognitive science, usability engineering, or more traditional areas of HCI). I argued that the future of HCI was design, and that if we were to distinguish ourselves as a program, this should be our emphasis. He agreed (not so much philosophically, but he was in desparate need of a leader so it was an easy sell). My first job was to hire a colleague, and I had the good fortune of being introduced to Eli Blevis. Eli and I agreed strongly on how to build the program, and we set out to do it. Much of what’s here today is a result of our collaboration, although Erik Stolterman, Youn Kyung-Lim, and Jeff Bardzell have added very important dimensions to the program. But to return to this course, the emphasis is on design. Here’s the overview document: Course Overview (just for the record, it’s copyrighted material, so please don’t copy it without permission and attribution).

I organize my course around these features:

• Seven themes or big ideas of design. I don’t believe people can or will remember lots of details, but they can remember seven big ideas. These are the pillars of my design philosophy (they’ll be revealed next week). Everything we will do relates to these themes in one way or another.

• Five non-trivial design projects. It’s like learning to swim by jumping into the deep end of the pool. There’s no slow build, or to continue with the analogy, there’s no splashing in the kiddy pool. The first design problem, while not as complex as later problems, is complicated enough and certainly non-trivial. (It’s about constructing an interface for a home thermostat system, from the home- or apartment-owner’s point of view.)

• Working on teams. Design, for the most part, is not a solitary effort. You must learn to work on teams–not teams with “slackers,” but teams with highly energized people with many ideas of how to proceed. How do decisions get made? How do we manage our time? How do we value the diversity of the team? How do we resolve the many trade-offs we face? Etc.

• Leadership. We want the students to see design as a vehicle for doing good work in the world, not just building another tool or application for people with a lot of money to spend. The problems of the world are great in number. Can design be used to solve some of these problems? We want our students to THINK BIG and demonstrate design leadership.

• There are a few more features, but I’ll leave those for later.

What’s difficult about all of this is that there is no algorithm for success. We could teach certain textbook-like procedures, but from my experience, what this produces is mediocre designers. Great designers come from a different place and mostly from within. This requires most people in the class to think, feel, and grow in new ways. For some this will be very difficult. But all of what we do, including the music and movies, are designed to inspire and motivate us.

 How does it all come together? I’m reminded about a scene in the movie, Shakespeare in Love (1998):

Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.

Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do?

Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.

Hugh Fennyman: How?

Philip Henslowe: I don’t know. It’s a mystery.