But Is It Intuitive?

A client recently voiced the opinion that a software solution was not intuitive and therefore needed more on-screen help text. Now of course "the client is always right," so more help text they shall have! But something about the exchange stuck in my brain.

First, I would argue that if something is not intuitive - that is, it's not obvious at first glance what you're supposed to do - the problem does not lie in the help text, it lies in the design.

If users stare uncomprehending at the screen, there are some foundational issues we need to revisit. And while more help text might make it better and more usable, I would argue that more help text can NEVER make it "more intuitive" - but definition. Right?

Second, I have to ask if intuitive is the appropriate yardstick for successful business solutions.

We live in a iPad world, I suppose, and everything is judge against Apple's ability to ship products with a single, tiny 2"x2" card that tells you how to "get started." The pinnacle of intuitivity (yeah, that's not a word). Or is it?... Are iPads intuitive or are users who just shelled out several hundred smackers just really curious and clever? Left to our own devices by Apple's cleverness, apathy, or hubris - do we just figure it out?

Having just gotten my own iPad out of it's shipping box this week, I'm thinking the latter.

I wanted to figure it out. And there was trial and error -- let's be frank, there is still a lot of trial and error -- but I kept trying until I got the result I wanted, because I wanted the result I got! (stitch that on a pillow, I dare you.)

In a business context, when folks bemoan, "It's not intuitive" -- I think the subtext might be: "I didn't get it on the first bounce, and I didn't care to work it out. It's new. It's hard. My to-do list is long. I'm done."

So I'm not saying "intuitive" isn't a great goal -- but truly elegant design notwithstanding, I think there's more to successful intuitive products than the design work. I think desire is the ingredient that takes it over the edge. When we want to master something new, we do. Then we forget the "labor pains" and relish in the joy of our new "intuitive" skills.

The Database Dilemma

There are big problems in the world today - heck, gigantic problems almost beyond our ability to comprehend. Hunger, war, disease, ignorance...these hover over us and around us, and if we allowed it, these could consume our every waking thought. So we stop thinking about them.

We bring our worry closer to home. The worry-beads for medium-size problems go through our mental fingers: paying the mortgage, the leak over the garage, the kids' braces, the spouse's linger glance at the tennis pro....these, too, can overwhelm if we become too focused. So we stop thinking about them.

And then we're left with small problems. Issue that won't save the planet, won't change our lives, but at least we feel like we can get a handle on them, maybe solve them. Or can we?

Here's one that's infinitesimal in the scheme of things - but it's haunted me for decades. How do you get people to type consistently in databases. I hear you guffaw. "Who cares?" you scoff. And yet, as soon as you have "Jones Co" and Jones Co." and "Jones Company" in the same database, you may as well be writing on cocktail napkins for all the data manipulation you'll be able to do.

Do you go behind and try to clean it up like the poor schmuck who follows the elephant in the parade? Seems unending and thankless.

Do you try to put controls in place? Sounds good, but if Facebook and Twitter have taught us anything it's that control is illusory at best.

Do you just live with the inconsistencies and count yourself better off than if you had no database?

Or do you whip out the cocktail napkins and start writing - enjoying the cocktail as you go?

The Problem is a Problem

It's weird how you sometimes recognized a cluster of similar situations in a narrow time frame, each in different areas of your life. I'm not sure if this is truly a coincidence or more a phenonomen where the first experience makes your sensitive to others.

In any event, I've noticed that more and more people are uncomfortable calling a problem a problem. The oh-so-cloying phrase "oh, it's not a problem, it's an opportunity" has reached epidemic proportions -- and is more virulent, I suspect, than H1N1.

In the dark and distance past, someone wisely said that you'll get further solving a problem when you see it as an opportunity for growth. And I totally agree with that. Problems are the reasons we break paradigms, stretch out of our comfort zones, and leap to new levels of execution. YAY for problems.

But, over time, the wisdom of that simple reframing advice has given way to a politically correct vocabulary where people avoid even uttering the word "problem."

The original idea was not about giving lip-service to a word that lowers our blood pressure and helps us to hide from the powers-that-be. No, the original ideas was really was meant to change our way of thinking and acting, not just our groupspeak. In other words: It's not JUST a problem; it's ALSO an opportunity.

The reason this matters is that those who prefer the "vocabulary substitution" approach cannot even answer the question at the heart of any business relationship: What is the client's problem?

If that question quickens your breath, gives you hives and you find you cannot even label a flipchart with the heading "problem"...then it might be time to re-think your approach.

Your clients have problems. Period. If they didn't, they would not need you.

They don't wake up in the middle of the night and celebrate their opportunities.

They don't lose concentration in the middle of a tennis match because they received a text with an exciting opportunity.

They don't step out of weddings, funerals, and 7th grade band concerts because an opportunity just can't wait.

Nope. They have problems.

And if you can understand and help them define the problems, then and only then, Virginia, you've arrived at an opportunity.

You've Got Spinach in Your Teeth

It's always interesting to notice how many people DON'T take the time to tell you they've found a problem in your work. It could be a typo or other small error, or it could be something more substantial. There are many times when no one tells you, then suddenly you find the problem and you realize everyone already noticed.

Why doesn't someone nudge you with the professional equivalent of "um, you've got some spinach in your teeth..."? Here are some possibilities:

Volleyball Syndrome
They are secure in the belief that if they keep their heads down and avoid eye contact, someone else will get the job done. These are the people who never raised their hands above their heads playing volleyball in gym class. ("Here it comes! You get it!" being their rally cry)

Second-to-the-Summit Syndrome
These folks notice, but assume someone had to have mentioned it, so they don't want to pile on. They reach the summit, but instead of planting a flag they start looking for the Starbucks the first guy franchised.

Karma Syndrome
These people assume it must the universe giving you a little comeuppance, and, really, who are they to interfere?

Battered Ego Syndrome
These souls see the mistake, but then have a silent argument with themselves that they must be wrong. When the mistake is revealed, they sigh "Oh, I knew that, but..."

Next time you notice a mistake, tell the person. It's nice to be nice, but, nicely or not, I'd rather know when my slip is showing (Hmm, does anyone wear slips any more?), my teeth are besmeared with foreign objects, or my infinitive is split wide open. And you?

The Definition Vortex

Defining a problem is important; I don't deny it. If you haven't framed the problem you have no chance to solve it.

And yet, I've seen so many people hide behind the camouflage of defining a problem. "Let's have a meeting and define the problem" turns into weeks of discussion and debate. In the meantime, the problem is getting worse, having children, planting roots -- pick your metaphor -- and we're still talking about how to talk about it.

Long ago a boss told me that if a meeting was rescheduled more than 3 times, it probably was a meeting that didn't need to happen. I propose a corollary:

It the topic of "defining a problem" requires more than 2 meetings, it's very likely you have bitten off too much to chew.

Break it down, pick a part of you CAN define and begin to work to solution. If you are creating flowcharts and Gantt charts that start with the big bang, it might be time to re-frame and simplify.

A wise woman recently told me: "If two things are a mystery, choose one." This is great advice, and this direction could kick many project teams out of the "definition vortex"!

The Eskimo Executive

So, out of the melange of facts and factoids formed by my formal education, casual conversations, and various apocryphal forms of entertainment, I have come to understand that Eskimo language and cultures puts an emphasis on *now* -- not to say they don't plan for the future or remember the past, but they are more hard-wired to "live in the moment." I can't confirm that this is an accurate portrayal of their culture, but it is intuitively appealing to me.

I've realized that there is a class of executive who follows this philosophy. Sadly, not in the "let's stay in the moment and squeeze the juice out it" way...but more in that they have the ability to present an opinion with absolute conviction, then change their minds up to 180 degrees -- and they never acknowledge the change. The case for the new opinion is made without a twinge or backward glance. And woe to anyone who states or intimates that there was every a different point of view.

It's difficult to appreciate the Eskimo Executive when you are directly involved in the about-face (you're too busy controlling your large muscle groups from the fight-or-flight response). But if you can watch from the sidelines, it's fascinating. For a long time, I assumed these people knew they were making massive changes in their opinions/directions. I thought it was just ego or a sense of "let's not upset the little people" or "must not show weakness; pretend nothing has changed."

But I've come to realize: they do not know they've done it. The shift is instantaneous. They truly believe they always held the same (read: correct) opinion. And if tomorrow new information necessitates a change in the correct opinion, hey, they will have always held that one, of course.

I know you've seen it. There's even a country song about it: "He was frequently wrong, but never in doubt." Now, here's a question to ponder: How do you know if you are an Eskimo Executive? I mean, wouldn't the very definition of the problem mean you could never perceive it?

So I wonder if the fact that I notice this in others means I share the trait. (This is, of course, the psychological corollary to my brother's axiom: "He who smelt it, dealt it.") Or does the simply act of wondering about it mean I am not afflicted? Hmm...

Afternoon Delete

OK, how many of you remember diskettes? Cute, little, portable, magnetic miracles that let you store - gasp - 1.44Mb of data. Yes, that's right...1,440,000K (and change). Now I know you young folk with your rock-and-roll music may not appreciate this, but at the time, it was a break-through. [Quit smirking, or I'll make you sit still while I ramble on about that heady day when Lotus 1-2-3 finally enabled us to make text BOLD and COLORFUL (albeit on a separate file) with Allways.]

Today we have so much space on our computer drives that it boggles the mind....so much space that I rationalize keeping things that I should delete. The funny thing is, within my circle of friends, I'm actually one of the more ruthless deleters (is that a word?)...deletitions? Deletionists? Hell, I have fewer than 100 emails in my inbox --- as opposed to several collegues who have (I am not kidding) +13,000 sitting in their inbox...with as many as 3000 unread. And the only reason they stop at 13,000 is that IT forces them to archive occassionally.

Here's my question....why do I save all this crap? I mean, I know what I think I save it. I think I may need it one day. But I also know that when I do need something, 4 times out of 10, I can't find the right email. I could go off on a rant about people who send me emails with subject lines of "question" and "tomorrow's meeting" so that there's no chance of identifying the true topic, but that's not really my point.

Why do we do this? Why do we save 14 versions of a project that's long since been delivered? Why do we save ever iteration of an email string? Why do we faithfully store every crappy presentation that our collegues thrust upon us? It's part lazyness, part covetousness, and part paranoia. Covynoia....that's that's the technical term.

I've yet to meet an ascetic business person....though it would be interesting. "Hello, my name is Pat, and I keep everything I need on this single 1.44MB diskette. When I receive new information, I simply delete the old. So for the near term, I look forward to interacting with you. At some point, though, your contact information will be over-written by a new bit of data, and we will lose contact. Until then, as long as you don't send me any graphic or sound files, I will enjoy our interaction. Hey, don't be sad; it's a FIFO world."