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The concept of ‘folksonomic interface development’ was discussed briefly at yesterday’s Creative Coffee Club.

It’s potential thesis juice so I thought I’d scribble down what’s in my head around the subject.

Folksonomy is the practice and method of collaboratively creating and managing tags to annotate and categorize content.

wikipedia.org/wiki/Folksonomy

It captured my imagination because I recently labelled the entire contents of my Gmail inbox (groan) and I struggled to define a useful naming approach. I’d have liked to have been able to select some off-the-shelf labels to get me started.

Either way, my labels are forever in ‘beta’ and there will be plenty more hours spent re-labelling everything when I come up with a new genius way of managing my mail (delete button is probably the best option).

‘Folksonomic’ doesn’t quite describe what I’m interested in however (which is a shame cos ‘folksonomic interface development’ sounds really good!).

What I’m interested in is the notion that users of software might be able to alter the user interface and then share their changes with a community. The key word here is ‘users’. I’m not describing open-source development by software creators.

Imagine if in your favourite piece of software you can re-arrange functions and buttons. You can add and remove functionality. You can skin the interface to make it look pretty. Then you can publish your version of the UI for others to use.

That’s about it for now. Most of that thinking was done on the 159 bus on the way to work this morning. There is much more to be done.

It’s Florence Nightingale’s birthday today.

She’s one of my a design heroes: she invented the polar area diagram.

I regularly come across people who are used to not being able to use things. They’ve learnt to accept it. The answer to not being able to perform a fairly simple task is to refer to a manual, or book a training session.

This isn’t because these people are stupid, it’s because the designers of the interfaces they are using made them so difficult to operate sometimes the only way to figure them out is with expert help.

One of the exercises I remember most clearly from my design degree is a time we had to specify all the steps involved in making a cup of tea. It proved - for us usability novices - to be a brilliant example of how apparently simple tasks involve some fairly complex steps - and more steps than you might initially assume (I feel a little competition coming on…!).

My reason for mentioning that is because a lot of the time the tasks we perform on screen are akin to tasks we perform in the real world. And this is (still) so often forgotten by interface designers.

I once filled out an online job application. I spent about a week pruning my CV as the form fields only allowed a very small number of characters. The evening before the deadline I was finally at a point where I’d squeezed pretty much everything into the minuscule text areas and I hit the ‘Submit Application’ button.

To my horror, the page that loaded in front of me said (words to the effect of): ‘Now please specify how your skills and experience are suitable for this role’ - in 2000 words! There was absolutely no indication that this part of the form existed!

In the ‘real world’ I can easily ascertain the size of the form by the number of pages it is printed on. I can have a quick scan of the entire form before filling it in by turning it over in my hands. I can easily and quickly plan what I’m going to write about in each section. If the designers of this particular online application had spent a bit of time considering the real world equivalent it could have saved me a whole load of frustration and panic!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against user manuals or training sessions, they are sometimes necessary for more complex tasks, but interfaces should at least fundamentally make sense in the first place.

This is especially true the more complex the process. For example, I would like to think that the interfaces used by workers in nuclear power plants are simple enough so that when the big red warning light starts flashing they don’t have to look out a manual to figure out what it means.

information aesthetics

A visualization of all the nouns in the English language arranged by semantic meaning.