03.21

Remote Collaboration: A Solution Raising New Barriers

During my MA in User Experience (UX) Design from the University of the Arts London (UAL), we were introduced to UX through a series of short projects. From fun experimentations to weird weird outcomes, the unit led us to develop a critical awareness of how physical, personal and social contexts shape design processes. We were additionally introduced to new design research methods to help us refine our design directions. Below are two examples I've worked on:

The UX of Memory

This two-week project explored research methods and design experimentation while tackling the following brief: Design an experience that revisits the memory process.
This exercise was a challenge for me, For the first time I was tasked to focus on designing an experience including people, in opposition to designing a metaphorical representation of concepts.

Directed Storytelling

This research method is a mean of collecting compelling stories from participants and lived experiences. This was a challenging task. Since we focused on trauma, an ethical question arose. We were asking people to take us back through one of their most difficult moments. We listened to a diverse range of stories, from the COVID-19 outbreak in Wuhan, to the Beirut explosion and other personal stories such as car accidents and claustrophobic episodes. We transcribed everything in this link.

Insights AND IDEATION

We noticed that most of the participants remembered their experiences with their bodies. They remembered feelings, and experience physical reactions to triggers such as loud noises. They shiver, have jump-scares, and stutter.
We started exploring the concept of body senses by connecting two people: Past and Present (past and present) with strings. When a trigger is initiated, Past’s reaction would automatically be felt by Present. The stronger the physical reaction is (thus, the traumatic event), the more it would be felt by Present.
From that, we moved to the idea of breaking the time barrier, and the complex relationship between past and present.

The experience followed the narrative below:

Each of you represents a guy called Patrick, in different timelines that you can find in your papers. The objective of this experience is to try to communicate to your surroundings as much as possible, with the tools we provide to you.

This experience has 3 different stages.

Stage 1: The person who represents Patrick “Today” can find a set of words(Europe, Asia, UK) in front of him. We would like him to read them clearly, but not too loudly, through the cup on his mouth. Consequently, the three others will have to repeat whatever they heard, simultaneously.As you hear your surroundings again, you should try and keep on repeating what you think you hear for the next 2 min.

Stage 2: This next stage has 3 rounds. Please write down the round number on the paper in front of you. We will show you all one image, but in different lengths of time for each person, depending on your date. The older your date is, the less time you will have to look at the image. Then you will all have 30 seconds to draw what you think you saw.(Start Drawing)Now, we will take your drawings and randomly switch them and show them to the others. You will then repeat the same task with the drawing you end up receiving.We will repeat this process 3 times (thus the 3 rounds)

Stage 3: Now we will repeat those two stages simultaneously. Good luck!


Memory is a non directional pattern. Does not follow one specific direction, it’s an infinity loop. Which is why in this experience we have a starting point, echoing from different poles, and bouncing back and forth indefinitely. Consequently, the overlapping of the three different stages gives an impression of the complexity of the memory system.

Memories may be vivid, but are sometimes unreliable, and lose some credibility as they get lost in translation. The way we remember the past is very dependent on how we experience the present. Which is why we created a tangled system with four different timelines at its extremities. Some signals get through clearly, while some others don’t, depending on the path itself, and on the characteristics of the signal.

This design experiment revealed itself to be a truly fun and insightful one. The intended feeling of loss and confusion experienced by our participants was reflective of the complexity of the memory process. If we had more time to take this project further, I would have wanted to include more participants.



The UX of Reading

This experience tackles the redundancy levels of different languages. It explores the ability to read deconstructed words and letters, and create meaning. As part of the UX of reading unit during my MA studies, we designed a multilingual game. We divided the class in groups, each containing:

-One Chinese reader
-One Hindi reader
-One English reader. 

Each group would be provided with a text written in three different languages (Mandarin, Hindi and English). Some words would be partially covered with black blocks. The goal of the game was to collaborate as a group in order to figure out the overall meaning of the text.

In order to add another level of complexity, I suggested to add a preliminary stage to the game: each participant will be provided with a paragraph written in a language they do not necessarily understand. They will need to intuitively cover words of their choice with the black blocks, which will then be assigned to their corresponding readers. For example, a Chinese speaker could get a Hindi passage, and would have to cover some words intuitively. After this, we would take back the modified paragraphs and hand them to its corresponding Hindi reader.

Players can remove up to 5 blocks if needed. However, this would decrease your chances of winning. In the end of the game, the group with the most guest words, and least removed blocks will be the winner. 

As complicated as this game may seem, it turned out to be a successful and insightful experience. We were lucky to have the corresponding amount of participants for each group to realise the game. As expected, the black blocks were complicating the decrypting of most words. Interestingly, users were inserting blocks in different places, not necessarily in the center. Thus, the difficulty varied between languages, due to the different typeface anatomies. 
With the introduction of the smartphone into our lives, Greenfield describes an unmistakable “trend towards dematerialization” (Greenfield, 2018). The device is gradually ab-sorbing items we use everyday (agendas, wallets...) into its digital interface. Similarly, it is becoming increasingly inevitable to not have a digital version of a product or service, as it has become a necessity rather than an augmentation (Greenfield, 2018). Interestingly this term, I had the chance to challenge this trend and do the reverse. We were briefed to materialize the blockchain, which is known to be an effective intangible ledgering system.In seven weeks, we tried to bring this abstract mechanism into the physical world, and explored different possible outcomes that can trigger the intended experience (Camerer et al., 2018). Since the project was a collaboration with the Brixton Pound’s creators, our outcome had to be set in Brixton and support its community. Consequently, the project was primarily framed into a specific context to which we had to adapt our materialization to. Following Dorst’s theory, we reinterpreted blockchain mechanisms in a setting with a different hierarchy of relationships, looking for an innovative response to its current manifestations (Dorst, 2015). In this essay, I will be revisiting the project through these lenses, and evaluating the efficacy of this approach.

Giving The Blockchain A Place In The Physical World

A brief understanding of the blockchain would be as follows: it is a decentralized data-base system. It relies on the consensus of its users, without the need for a centralized third party (Faustino, 2019). It is immutable, irreversible and transparent, which renders it as a reliable source. This technology is behind Decentralized Autonomous Organizations(DAOs), which would be corporations that can “maintain themselves without human interventions”(Catlow et al., 2017). In other words, they would own themselves autonomously, through blockchain-related technicalities. The latter has ultimately turned the blockchain into an ideal structure for “at the organizational level” (Faustino, 2019).

In response to the brief, we chose to frame this concept of DAOs to the Brixton community, by designing an autonomous shop that owns itself. With different stations across the borough, it would allow people to donate their items in exchange for others, initiating our envisioned economy of kind acts. Ultimately, the blockchain was rendered into the physical world and made experienceable to everyone. I’ve come to realize that our materialization process was a reflection of Dorst’s theory of problem framing through metaphors. Through the adaptation of DAO onto a shop, we’ve acquired a new way of seeing the blockchain and applied its manifestations in a different context. This reinterpretation sparked new ideas and perspectives, facilitating the process and enabling new outcomes (Dorst, 2015), and easing the process for materialization (Camerer et al., 2018). For example, our shop automatically registered every transaction through an automated printer enclosed in a trans-parent box. This could be considered as a metaphorical representation of the blockchain’s immutability and transparency. Moreover, the voting mechanism to select proposals that would define the next shops is a metaphor of the blockchain’s consensus mechanism. Hence with a set of metaphors, we’ve been able to give a place to the blockchain in the physical world.

When the blockchain was first introduced, it revealed itself to be an innovative technology as it was developed in a virtual setting, free of the constraints and obstacles of the material world. Consequently when we materialized it and gave it a place in our world, one could argue that we’ve taken a step towards applying the blockchain “to improve the human condition”(Faustino, 2019). We found a way to implement its once liberated mechanisms as a response to modern day capitalism and societal hierarchies. We have challenged the notion of price and value with an economy of kind acts, where people can exchange products of their choice for others that they donate. We have also made the experience only accessible with a secret phrase shared among people through word-of-mouth, enabling the reliance of trust within the community instead of money and other material values.Hence, framing the blockchain in a specific context led us to create metaphors that have offered the people of Brixton a different perspective, and meaningful “re-descriptions of the world” (Faustino, 2019). Our initiative challenged modern principles to explore alter-native design directions, to “fine-tune the future product qualities“ (Camerer et al., 2018).Moreover, through these trials of re-descriptions of the world, produced by technological development communities, we introduced potential futuristic world views ‘where politics and technical infrastructures are growingly interdependent” (Faustino, 2019).

On another note, when evaluating the success of the project after these framing methods, different obstacles came in the way in the materialization process. The form-giving strategies we used are useful to stimulate creative thoughts, but did not make us master the bridge between concepts and tangible product qualities. (Camerer et al., 2018). While the ideas sounded to be working, doubts started to emerge when the shop was brought to life.As we introduced the concept of a store “owning itself” to our peers during testing and speed dating sessions, people were questioning the feasibility of the concept. As Bergerstates, when people are presented with a work of art, the way we look at it is influenced by a set of “learned assumptions’’ about it (Berger, 1972).Even though our outcome isn’t re-ally a work of art, one could argue that the same notion could be applied here. People have learned assumptions about how a shop looks, or as Lakoff and Johnson mention, people have the underlying logic of ‘how it should work’ (Lakoff et al, 1980). Hence, if framing the blockchain using the store metaphor seems to be working a priori, framing the store that owns itself into the real world seems to be problematic.

Moreover, throughout the speed dating sessions, we realized that people were not very convinced with the store’s autonomy. What happens if it gets vandalized? How do we pre-vent theft? Who is in charge in that case? These questions mainly hint on the inevitable human intervention to make the store work in our world with its societal norms. Perhaps an autonomous store was not the best metaphor for DAOs to be adapted in this framework. Or perhaps it was vice versa, framing the project to the Brixton community may have been too limiting for us to explore what an autonomous store can offer. One could wonder what alternative direction could this project have taken if its target was not to serve a community, and requires minimal human interventions. In what other context could the blockchain be materialized and how? In other terms, instead of giving the blockchain a place in our world, what happens if it finds its own place?

Finding The Blockchain's Place

If the project’s aim is to speculate alternative realities where blockchain technology would be materialized to serve people, then framing the project in a strong anthropomorphic set-ting such as the Brixton community would be the right way to go. Through critical design and backcasting (Dunne et al., 2014), these social boundaries would be a good base to imagine alternative scenarios, and speculate about ideal futures where blockchain could be used for the better of the community. However, a different framework would also allow designers to explore the limitless different shapes a materialized blockchain can take. During our research, we came across two other projects that relied on blockchain-based technologies. The first one is Plantoids, which is an autonomous blockchain-based plant, able to reproduce itself (Catlow et al.,2017). It gathers funds from donors and artists who would also submit proposals for the design of the next plantoid. Donors would be able to participate in the decision making process for the selected design and the issues concerning its production. The plantoid isa DAO, meaning that it is self-sufficient and autonomous. Its creator acknowledges that these entities would be considered difficult to be apprehended for most people (Catlowet al., 2017). Nevertheless its framing was successful in relation to its materialization. It presents itself as a new concept, free from assigned functions and assumptions. As people did not acquire previous expectations of what plantoids should do, the materialization developed into its own forms. Moreover, this project limits its human intervention to only its maintenance, which consequently limits its interaction with people in the context where it is placed. This project consequently hints at potential futuristic world views ‘where politics and technical infrastructures are growingly interdependent”(Faustino, 2019).

Another successful example we stumbled upon was terra0. What is interesting with thisDAO is that it erased human intervention completely, by removing the management from the equation (Catlow et al., 2017). It is a self-owned forest, realized with blockchain technology. It would first start off with project initiators buying a forest, which would later sell licenses to log its own trees . It would thus accumulate capital, allowing it to later buy itself from the initial investors, which would lead it to actually own itself. The now augment-ed-forest-user would be able to finance itself, buy more land and expand (Catlow et al.,2017). With the very minimal human interventions in this project, this DAO was used fora “non-human ecosystem”. When placed outside the restrictive anthropomorphic frame, blockchain technologies such as smart contracts have opened the doors to new design possibilities in a more natural and sustainable setting. They have made it possible for the forest to acquire autonomy through automation. One could wonder how different would this be from labeling it a posthuman project (Faustino, 2019)? With this in mind, the potential outcomes from a blockchain-based design would be limitless when human intervention becomes less dominant.
There is no doubt that the materialization process in our project was made easier through framing. It has allowed us to use blockchain-based technologies to respond to current ways of living. However, a framework comes also as a limitation to design exploration, pre-venting the project from reaching its intended goals. In the case of our project’s aim to serve the community, the anthropomorphic characteristics played a big role in defining the store’s place in the material world. Projects set in different settings such as plantoid and terra0 have revealed a different way to materialize or use blockchain-related technologies, speculating on potential futures. with a more flexible kind of expression the blockchain can take, and be applied. Although, frameworks are not constant and evolve over time and generations (van der Bijl-Brouwer, 2019). This implies that their perspectives and the way they originally thought about certain aspects and problems would change over time. In the case of our project, in a future where the blockchain would potentially become more apparent and incorporated in our lives, our society’s perspective would potentially evolve as well, perhaps to give it a more flexible place in the physical world.

References

Berger, J. (1972). Ways of seeing. New York:Viking Press.

Camere, S., Bordegoni, M. and Schifferstein, H.N.J. (2018). From Abstract to Tangible:Supporting the Materialization of Experiential Visions with the Experience Map. Interna-tional Journal of Design, [online] 12(2). Available at: http://www.ijdesign.org/index.php/IJDesign/article/view/2825/820.(Accessed: 10 June 2021)

Catlow, R., Garrett, M., Jones, N. and Skinner, S. (2017). Artists Re:Thinking the block-chain. England:Torque Editions.
Dorst, K., van der Bijl-Brouwer, M. and Pee, S. (2015). ‘Understanding Problem Framing through research into Metaphors ’. IASDR2015 Interplay. Brisbane, Australia.

Dunne, A. and Raby, F. (2014). Speculative Everything : Design, Fiction, and Social Dream-ing. Massachussetts: Mit Press.

Faustino, S. (2019). ‘How metaphors matter: an ethnography of blockchain-based re-de-scriptions of the world’. Journal of Cultural Economy, 12(6), pp.478–490.

Greenfield, A. (2018). Radical technologies : the design of everyday life. New York: Verso.Lakoff, G. and Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.

van der Bijl-Brouwer, M. (2019). ‘Problem Framing Expertise in Public and Social Innova-tion’. She Ji: The Journal of Design, Economics, and Innovation, 5(1), pp.29–43.

Inclusivity in design has been an enduring thought of mine throughout the course. A segregating question such as “Who is it for’’ has turned into “Who is it not for”. Defining target audiences facilitates design decision-making, and satisfies monetary purposes in real-life practices. Nevertheless, the questions of equality and accessibility always remain. While every design has a specific position in the design justice spectrum, aspiring designers envision to reach its highest value and try to reach quality. Yet, this remains an ideal (Bianchin and Heylighen, 2017). We make decisions based on our own perceptions (Criado-Perez,2019). Throughout the term we read several opinions on design justice. In this essay I will reflect on the project I did this term through these lenses.

Disability Through Lack Of Accessibility

Recently, my peers and I designed a digital archiving experience. We initiated a browsing experience us-ing a three-dimensional platform, adaptable to two kinds of interactions: on your browser with a scrollable globe, and through Augmented Reality using a smartphone. The duality of the experience was innovative as AR was implemented for browsing purposes. However in this case, newness could imply disability as not everyone has access to a fully functionalAR. A scan of the user’s surroundings is necessary to detect surfaces as reference points.But many obstacles can come in the way that are not under the user’s control, such as the inconvenience of his surrounding space or some defaults in the phone’s camera. Therefore, disability can arise from the interaction with the environment which the design depends on, and not from capability levels (Bianchin and Heylighen, 2017). Consequently, following Constanza-Shock’s matrix of domination, we found a potential solution “based on the experiences of those they harm’’ (Constanza-Chock, 2018: p.5). The AR became an adaptation of the website instead of a separate experience, leaving people a choice between two modes of navigation. Hence, two Design Justice Network principles are addressed:

We center the voices of those who are directly impacted by the outcomes of the design process” (Design Justice Network, 2016)
We have taken these people into account, andprovided them with an alternative experience. Embracing this duality implies that a senseof community has been accounted for, as we have avoided the “shedding of differenc-es”(Lorde, 1984).
“We honor and uplift traditional, indigenous, and local knowledge and practices” (DesignJustince Network, 2016)
We have not disregarded the traditional modes of web-interac-tions. We have optimized it to a different browsing experience, and turned it to an alterna-tive to the AR.

Exclusive Assumptions

Design achieves maximum inclusivity “if it accords to what would be chosen by everyone under the conditions sketched” (Hollenbeck and Patrick, 2021). Throughout this project,I’ve come to disagree with this statement. We designed a set of interactions believing they were standardized for maximum reachability. However, I realized that this process was based on our own assumption of normality, which is neither accurate, nor acceptable (Bianchin and Heylighen, 2017). This was revealed through user-testing. Although well-de-signed, the platform presents an unorthodox mode of navigation. Moreover, given our us-er’s unfamiliarity with AR, the thought of clicking for more was not as intuitive as assumed.While this result goes in line with Suchman’s critique of familiarity and dominant assumptions (2007) I’ve come to realize it also challenges inclusivity as it becomes restrictive.Thus, two design justice principles were not accounted for:

“We see the role of designers as facilitators rather than experts” (Design Justice Network,2016).

While the three-dimensional aspect was intended to facilitate navigation, it raised theneeds for adaptation and familiarity, challenging inclusivity and justice.

“We share design knowledge and tools with our communities’’ (Design Justice Network,2016).

As assumptions were prominent, the proposed design commands were not com-municated properly, raising concerns of unfamiliarity and obstacles for fairness and justice.

Towards Inclusivity

The Design Justice Network has ten principles. While each of them is undoubtedly valid, I believe the systemic approach is too good to be true, yet paradoxical. Similar systemic pat-terns such as the ADDRESSING framework, (Hollenbeck and Patrick, 2021) list different pillars to achieve maximum inclusivity. However, not only would it be almost impossible to cover them all, but it would also require compensatory efforts from designers (Hollenbeck and Patrick, 2021). Some inclusivity obstacles could be overcome down through acquiring adaptability and familiarity with guidelines. Nevertheless, justice for all would still remain an ideal. While designers have a moral and ethical responsibility to decrease mismatching between a user and the design (Hollenbeck and Patrick, 2021), I believe this would be tolerable as long as no discriminating harm was done (Constanza-Chock, 2018).

To conclude, the question of design justice is long-lasting, no matter how considerate and inclusive a design product might seem. While I’ve tried to design a platform offering new browsing experiences, I have unwillingly opened the doors to exclusivity, and raised barriers to design justice. This consolidates my understanding that design is not problem solving. As we aspire to tackle real-life problems, our designs might create new ones. However, one thing to take into account in the design justice spectrum could be the given time of the design in question, as people’s needs considerably evolve over time (Hollenbeck andPatrick, 2021). One can wonder how this same conversation would take place in a few decades, when AR could become a larger part of our lives.

References

Bianchin, M. & Heylighen, A. (2017) ‘Fair by design. Addressing the paradox of inclusive design approaches’, The Design Journal, 20(1), pp.162-170. DOI: 10.1080/14606925.2017.1352822.

Costanza-Chock, S. (2018). ‘Design Justice, A.I., and Escape from the Matrix of Domination’. Journal of Design and Science.

Criado-Perez, C. (2019). INVISIBLE WOMEN : Exposing Data Bias In A World Designed ForMen. S.L.: Vintage.

Design Justice Network (2016). Read the Principles. Available at: https://designjustice.org/read-the-principles. (Accessed: 12 April 2021)

Hollenbeck, C.R. and Patrick, V.M. (2021) ‘Designing For All: Consumer Response To In-clusive Design’. Journal Of Consumer Psychology. DOI: 10.1002/jcpy.1225

Lorde, A. (1984). ‘The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle The Master’s House’ in Lorde,A. (ed.) Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches. Berkley: Crossing Press, pp. 110-114.

Suchman, L.A. (2007). Human-Machine Reconfigurations : Plans and Situated Actions.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

While remote collaboration was initially used for convenience in mobility, it has turned into a new norm due to the COVID-19 pandemic. For the first time, we are forced to use online communication and collaboration tools (Bakırlıoğlu et al., 2020) as meeting face to face has become difficult. Throughout the term, we have been using white boarding applications such as Figma or Miro for synchronous brainstorming and prototyping, and video conferencing applications such as Zoom or Google Meets to communicate. As these platforms seem to be adequate alternatives to meeting face to face, we could be unawarely neglect-ing rising barriers for effective collaboration, which will be explored in this blog.


Since talk-in interaction for knowledge-sharing and knowledge-integration is needed for successful collaborative design (Kleinsmann et al., 2012), we have been using Zoom on a daily basis. This highly popular platform allows people to communicate virtually by display-ing every participant’s frontal camera view in the same screen. As convenient as this may seem, the system has reduced some of the paralingual features of face to face communication such as gestures and emotive communication (Singh, 2020). While I agree with Singh, I do not believe this is as problematic as perspective invariance. While using Zoom, all participants see each other from the same perspective, leading to a “distorted mental space of the working environment” (Wang et al., 2014). This inconvenience was put into play in the online LARP workshop we had this term. While this kind of experience usually requires physical portrayal and theatrical improvisation, our outcomes have proven that its online adaptation is still possible. Settings were built through appropriate clothings and green-screen backgrounds. However, the perspective invariance troubled the sense of immersion into the experience. With every player facing their frontal cameras, the incorrect direction of their gaze and gestures becomes confusing. Gaze awareness helps define social cues, especially in the context of role-play. Their ineffective interpretation could be an “obstacle for effective communication” (Wang et al., 2014), thus effective collaboration as a whole.


Throughout the term we’ve also been using white boarding platforms such as Figma and Miro to create content and build digital prototypes synchronously. Sharing a board accessible to every participant allows the display of each one’s input, triggering motivation and inspiration (Danielewicz and McGowan, 2005). However, while these platforms are said“to value each one’s participation” (Wang et al., 2014), I believe they could prevent equal input. Actors from different disciplines share their knowledge through a common platform(Kleinsmann et al., 2012), containing a limited set of tools available, which constrains de-sign freedom and flexibility. Not only are these sets of tools not always the most adequate to translate all kinds of input, but participants who are not familiar with them would have to adapt their skills to a new language. The intended input could get lost in translation(Bakırlıoğlu et al., 2020), preventing successful output, thus effective collaboration. In our telesthetic prehension project, we were to design a digital and physical object that prehends its surrounding. While some of us had previous knowledge in product design to share, the materials we used to build the prototype were only accessible to one person who ended up designing the product on his own. In addition to this inconvenience, the perspective invariance issue mentioned in the previous section was even more present here in the context of physical prototyping. Inconveniently, we ended up relying on remote collaboration applications to help as much as possible, through transcribing visual content and sketches with Miro.


Tangible user interfaces (TUIs) could have been a better solution. I came across a project called TeleAr that uses TUIs to “collaboratively design 3D objects using augmented reality, in respect to user’s spatial cognition and perspective” (Wang et al., 2014). While this method seems ideal for virtual collaboration, one could wonder what place the digital solutions we’ve talked about so far take in a posthuman conversation. If posthumanism "resists the binary by integrating human and non-human” (Forlano, 2017), how close are these implications from acquiring this label if we’ve grown to rely on their cognitive affordances? Greenfield suggests that posthuman systems would “supplement, rather than replace human beings” (Greenfield, 2018). This statement follows a similar path to the one mentioned in the beginning of this essay, as remote collaboration was initially a supplement instead of a replacement. Although not self-directed, these current technologies still generate a feeling of human connectedness, since “boundaries of presence and absence eventually get blurred” while using them (Jewitt et al., 2020) . In this case, one comes to wonder if face to face collaboration will be blurred and believed to be unnecessary, ultimately raising obstacles for effective collaboration.
In conclusion, while our growing reliance on remote collaboration tools have not yet re-placed the face to face completely, they need to “find ways to remove the barriers against participation” (Bakırlıoğlu et al., 2020), as well as communication. In the workplace, this becomes problematic as the rising defaults discussed in this essay reduce effective collaboration. Moreover, the blurred boundaries between presence and absence could be a step closer to posthumanism, or a world where the values of interpersonal communication and physical collaboration would become obsolete.

References

Bakırlıoğlu, Y., Ramírez Galleguillos, M.L. and Coşkun, A. (2020). ‘Dreaming of immersiveinteractions to navigate forced distributed collaboration during Covid-19’. Interactions,27(5), pp.20–21.

Danielewicz, J. and McGowan, J. (2005). ‘Collaborative Work: A Practical Guide’. sym-ploke, 13(1), pp.168–181.

Forlano, L. (2017). ‘Posthumanism and Design’. She Ji: The Journal of Design, Economics,and Innovation, 3(1), pp.16–29.

Greenfield, A. (2018). Radical technologies : the design of everyday life. New York: Verso.

Jewitt, C., Price, S., Kerstin Leder Mackley, Nikoleta Yiannoutsou and Atkinson, D. (2020).Interdisciplinary insights for digital touch communication. Cham, Switzerland: SpringerOpen.

Kleinsmann, M., Deken, F., Dong, A. and Lauche, K. (2012). ‘Development of design col-laboration skills’. Journal of Engineering Design, 23(7), pp.485–506.

Singh, V. (2020). ‘Workshops are now required to be conducted remotely’. Interactions,27(4), pp.52–54.

Wang, X., Love, P.E.D., Kim, M.J. and Wang, W. (2014). ‘Mutual awareness in collaborativedesign: An Augmented Reality integrated telepresence system’. Computers in Industry,65(2), pp.314–324.
Studying User Experience (UX) Design this term has broadened my horizons and enriched a particular field I always had in mind: understanding people. From my experience in advertising, I observed an everlasting communication gap between designers and people, who are often limited to aesthetic impressions (Clarkson, Crilly and Moultrie, 2004). Through the theoretical and practical assessments of the term, I began to transition from visually translating concepts in the form of metaphors, to using human experience as a key factor to evaluate the success of my outcomes. UX design builds on Human-Centred Design (HCD) principles, which “accommodate people’s needs, capabilities and ways of behaving” (Norman, 2013: p.8). In this blog, I will explore the centrality and scrutinization of human experiences in UX design, supporting the importance of including people in the design process.

Peaple Inspire Us

Understanding people involves the awareness of people’s needs and behaviours, but also their senses, thoughts, moods, feelings and emotions. UX designers should take most of these factors into account, when designing their outcomes (Jokinen, 2015). But an insightful understanding of those same factors could lead designers to use them as sources of inspiration, and design elements. Which is why it is important to include them in the design process. Sanders and Stappers (2014) introduce co-design practice, which uses a “designing-with” mindset, and denote people as “experts of their own experiences”. Thus, designers can use insights and ideas coming from others as sources of inspiration and innovation. Interestingly, we were unknowingly introduced to this concept from the very first project of the term.

In the UX of Senses, we were assigned to design an experience allowing its participants to sense togetherness, using our human senses that go beyond the main five. Not only has this project made me learn more about people but being aware of my own senses has opened my eyes to a wide range of design possibilities that I did not foresee. We did not involve external participants in the design process, nevertheless we tested the experience on ourselves. We were designers, but also each other’s participants. Each of us had numerous insights from observing each other, to engaging human senses and feelings. Moreover, the beauty of failure, and randomness in behaviours has been even more inspiring. People themselves are often unaware of their problems, and what they need (Norman, 2013). Which is why an external observation is key to find these design opportunities, and in this context, take the form of mistakes in behaviours. Little did we know that our final string prototype would be based on random tapings on metal railways!

People Create Meaning

Gibson (1979) defines the affordances of an environment as “what it offers an animal”.It specifies the different ways a subject can use the substances, mediums, surfaces or objects provided by this environment. He also mentions they are not classification factors(ibid.). Indeed, affordances depend on the way the elements in question are perceived by a subject, in a given environment or context. Norman (2013) revisits this theory and frames it in the context of user experience. He defines affordances as a relationship between an object’s properties, and the possible ways an agent can use them. This confirms the strong dependence and variability of affordances. Therefore, in the context of designing an experience, the active participation of people in the design process could be important to set directives. People can challenge pre-existing perceptions and create new meanings.

In the UX of Soil, our brief was to explore the neglected importance of planetary soil dependence. Clarkson, Crilly and Moultrie (2004) explain how cultural backgrounds and experiences determine the way people respond to objects. The usual perception of soil is “dirt”, and often relates to mud. Our design question was to challenge this existing perspective, to establish a new meaning that would possibly alter people’s neglect. As designers, we were able to partially do so. Interestingly the participants did most of the job. Perceived affordances help people figure out what actions are“possible without the need for labels or instructions” (Norman, 2013: p.13). In this case, we only provided our participants with soil-based materials, accompanied by art tools such as brushes, papers and glue. We were thus able to temporarily establish a cognitive flip, as soil was used as an art tool in this current context. However, the participants were able to add another layer. Using soil, they created arts and crafts they later sent to their classmates as gifts. Various outcomes were revealed, from simple layering of coloured soil on cups, to cupcakes made of clay. People unknowingly altered the affordance of soil.With designers, soil affords making art. But now with users, it also affords gift-making. Thus, user participation in the design process is important to define the purpose and function of a design’s outcome, by allowing participants to experiment and create meaning.

People Become Creators

I would like to refer to the previously mentioned project, the UX of Soil, throughout this section. User-centeredness requires recognizing that artefacts people interact with have a considerable impact on how we think (Dunne, 2005). In this specific example, the reason why we came to these crafted outcomes is because designers initially provided the participants with conventional art materials. We directed people to create these artworks, based on our awareness of the possible interactions with art tools.Nevertheless, the outcomes did not come from the designers, but from the participants.

The design process resulted from the complementarity of designer’s input, and user participation. We introduced tools that people with no design background can utilize to explore their creativity (Sanders and Stappers, 2014) as a design method.

This project can be considered as an example of Sanders and Stappers’ (2014) vision of Co-Design. It is an emerging practice in user experience design, based on a design-with mindset, that could possibly define the way we design in 2044. Participants become catalysts in the design process, which would thus become a collective activity (ibid.). The optimistic tone of the article sounded too good to be true but the resulting outcomes from the UX of Soil project does indeed prove the effectiveness of this practice. An interesting metaphor implemented by Dunne to indicate users was protagonists navigating in a narrative space drawn by authors, the designers (Dunne, 2005). This analogy could support the complementarity and interdependence of designers and participants in a co-designing context. Designers (authors) provide tools and artefact, leaving the users (protagonists) to explore the possible outcomes.

The Designer's Role

Notice that throughout the essay, I have avoided using the word “user” as much as possible and replaced it with people or participants. During one of our tutorial sessions, our instructor Dr. John Fass described my use of this word as dehumanizing. As I’m exploring the importance of including people and human experiences in the design process, the name of the field itself is paradoxical. The analogy made by Dunne (2005) of users as protagonists implies that designers would become authors. Consequently, defining the artefacts and framing the situations in which the protagonists would act on implies that the designer is still in control. Given the predisposed understanding of how people interact with artefacts, there is an inevitable possibility to involuntarily use them at the expense of society. If the observation and understanding of people’s behaviours, senses and emotions in the design process serves as a source of inspiration, it is the designer’s role to avoid using them as sources of exploitation.

Unfortunately, technology and social media have already made this possible. Berger (2013) defines social currency as the human values and emotions that are used behind the popularity of social networks, as people share content that makes them look good in the eyes of others. In response to that, Shiba(2018) introduces the notion of the “ethical” designer as an ideal. She denounces“weaponized” design as it continuously “reinforces a harmful status quo, creating exploitable systems at the expense of societies”. She insists that it is our job as designers to be aware of the severity of this situation, and to address its social and human costs. Another factor a designer should hold into account is subjectivity. Jokinen (2015) suggests the reluctance to theorise emotional user experience design because UX is holistic. He also confirms the challenges of the objective study of subjective experiences. Subjectivity is a complexifying factor while validating the effectiveness of a designed experience. But it is not always the case.

In our UX of Reading project, we designed an experience requiring readers of three specific languages: English, Hindi andChinese. Our design was targeted to our classmates only. Nevertheless, the design was not unsuccessful. As designers, we should only redesign systems “based on the lived experiences of those they harm’’ (Constanza-Chock, 2018: p.5). Including people in the design process can open doors to subjectivity and individualism. But exclusivity becomes problematic only if it harms potential participants.
In conclusion, the importance of understanding people and human experiences lies in their insightful manifestations that can influence the way we design today. Thus, the need for designers to include people in the design process becomes increasingly necessary. People inspire us, as understanding them and observing their behaviours can open doors to a wide range of design possibilities. People create meaning by challenging preconceived associations and exploring new creative possibilities, in a framework set by designers. In the near future, design could become a collective activity, and its process would be based on a combination of users’ input and designers’ direction. It is thus crucial for designers today to embrace this role and take it as an opportunity to expand design possibilities, while still being alert of possible exploitations and harmful exclusions.

References

Berger, J. (2013) Contagious: Why Things Catch On. New York: Simon & Schuster Paper-backs.

Costanza-Chock, S. (2018). ‘Design Justice, A.I., and Escape from the Matrix of Domination’. Journal of Design and Science.

Crilly, N., Moultrie, J. and Clarkson, P.J. (2004). ‘Seeing things: consumer response to the visual domain in product design’. Design Studies, 25(6), pp.547–577. doi: 10.1016/j.destud.2004.03.001

Dunne, A. (2005). Hertzian Tales: Electronic Products, Aesthetic Experience, And CriticalDesign. Massachusetts: MIT Press.

Gibson, J. J. (1979) The Ecological Approach to Visual Perception. New York: HoughtonMifflin.

Jokinen, J.P.P. (2015). ‘Emotional User Experience: Traits, Events and States.’ Interna-tional Journal of Human-Computer Studies, 76, pp.67-77. doi: 10.1016/j.ijhcs.2014.12.006

Norman, D. (2013) The Design of Everyday Things. Massachusetts: MIT PressSanders L. and Stappers P.J. (2014) ‘From Designing to Co-Designing to Collective Dreaming: Three Slices in Time’. Interactions, 21(6), pp.24-33.

Shiba, C. (2018). ‘On Weaponised Design’. Tactical Tech. Available at: https://ourdata-ourselves.tacticaltech.org/posts/30-on-weaponised-design. (Accessed on: 14 January2021).