logic of failure

We’re in the middle of designing solutions for a complex, real world problem, and it reminded me of a book I read some years ago: The Logic of Failure: Recognizing and Avoiding Error in Complex Situations, by Dietrich Dörner. The author tells a story of a city council and its mayor trying to fix the volume of traffic, noise, and air pollution in their downtown area. To solve the problem they introduced speed bumps and the speed limit was reduced to 20 miles per hour. But the results were unexpected: 1) the speed bumps forced people to drive in a lower gear, thus increasing the noise and exhaust fumes; 2) but because of the reduced speed, people spent more time shopping, and this actually increased the number of cars in the downtown area; 3) eventually fewer and fewer went downtown because of these reasons; 4) people started shopping in a near-by mall; 5) downtown stores, once thriving, were facing bankruptcy, and 6) tax revenues were significantly down. “The fate of this environment-conscious town demonstrates how human planning and decision-making processes can go awry if we do not pay enough attention to possible side effects and long-term repercussions, if we apply corrective measures too aggressively or too timidly, of if we ignore premises we should have considered.” [p.2]

It seems we’re wired for this kind of ad hoc thinking. Hunting, building a fire, or chasing away a wild animal does not have much significance beyond the act; “…our prehistoric ancestors did not have to think beyond the situation itself. The need to see a problem embedded in the context of other problems rarely arose. For us, however, this is the rule, not the exception. Do our habits of thought measure up to the demands of thinking in systems? What errors are we prone to when we have to take side effects and long-term repercussions into account?” [p. 6]

…

The technique of asking question after question about your design may prevent this kind of failure. Rich Gold’s analysis of smart houses prevents this kind of thinking and leads to solid design arguments. I hope some teams are using this technique and thus avoiding failure.

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?

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 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.’”

finding your voice

It never takes long to determine who the “talkers” will be in class. These are the people who ask most of the questions, respond to most of the questions asked, or simply engage in conversation. Yes, there are the talkers and the listeners. And if you look carefully, these often fall along cultural divides. The largest percentage of talkers is Americans. On the other end are the … well, you know who you are. Sometimes the divide has little to do with cultural background and more to do with shyness or simply individual personalities. Sometimes the divide is about being an undergraduate in a graduate class (really, in most cases the difference is one or two years of being a student).

This is going to be a challenge for everyone. Talkers need to refrain from jumping in at every opportunity. Listeners need to think more quickly “on their feet” and take the risk of speaking up. We all need to be patient with each other and ourselves.

There are cultural differences in what people are used to in the classroom. Perhaps some of you would like to share your experiences as a comment to this post.

But being here in the U.S., in this program, in this course requires you to engage. This can occur in many ways: in the Tuesday/Thursday lectures or in smaller group sessions (like the Wednesday night session); in blogs (this gives you an opportunity to think before you speak/write); and of course in team settings.

Choose your way, but over time explore other ways. Remember, you’re here to be “uncomfortable” (that’s another way of saying that you’re here to be a learner rather than a performer or an expert). And for some, that might mean talking LESS or not being the first one to talk. It’s all about learning.