Cushions, Keyboards, and a Customized MRI - Lessons in Human Centered Design
On a study abroad trip to Ecuador this May, I spent several days in Ibarra, where BYU students in the Global Engineering Outreach class are working on projects for a prosthetic clinic. Around the corner from the prosthetics clinic was an affiliated wheelchair clinic. I spent two days there assembling wheelchairs and learning how the physical therapists at the clinic customized each wheelchair for their patients.
I learned that a different group had worked on a project where they developed cushions for the wheelchairs. The wheelchair cushion project was ongoing, though, because the wheelchair users did not like the original design. What did the designers do? One designer told the clinic director, “They’ll like the cushion once they use it!”
Wouldn’t everything be better, simpler, easier, if the patients could just like the cushions? This anecdote highlights an important design principle, though: Designers cannot make users think a certain way. The patients didn’t magically change their opinions.
You, as the designer, want people to like your work. Especially if you have already done the work. And especially if you have reason to believe your idea is what’s best. But familiarity and comfort remain, for better or for worse, critical considerations in product design.
In the case of the wheelchairs, it was about more than just plain dislike; the cushions were uncomfortable for the patients after sitting in them for extended periods of time. The prototype cushion had an acrylic base that would press into people’s thighs, posing not only a comfort problem but a potential health hazard as well.
Designers need to be aware of and concerned with more than just their product itself. They must care about the people that will use the product (to learn more about how to understand your customer, check out our previous article here).
And people come with all sorts of complicated constraints: they require things like comfort, accessibility, ease of use, safety measures, etc. And they have no shortage of opinions.
Let’s consider the QWERTY keyboard. Have you ever considered why the QWERTY keyboard is laid out the way it is?
The short answer: because that’s the way we have always done things.
The long answer: We aren’t totally sure. A popular theory is that the keys were organized to separate commonly paired letters, thus reducing the jamming frequency of old, mechanical typewriters [1]. Whatever its origin, though, the QWERTY keyboard is far from being the most efficient design– it’s just that it has stuck around. Why? Because that’s the way we have always done things.
The persistence of the QWERTY keyboard is a phenomenon known as path dependence, where an inferior standard is upheld because of its legacy or precedent.
Path dependence illustrates just how powerful the user really is. Your design can be better in every way– cheaper, more efficient, stronger, lighter, faster– but if the user isn’t willing to adopt it, then it just won’t get used. Precedent is more powerful than it maybe ought to be. And the QWERTY keyboard will persist– not because of any virtue of the keyboard itself, but because of the people who use it. Design must be human-centered when humans are the ones who use the design.
The work of Doug Dietz on MRI machines illustrates how a focus on humans can transform the design process [2]. After designing MRI machines for General Electric, Doug realized there was more to be done. He had designed a state-of-the-art machine, but when he witnessed a young girl crying as she entered the room for her scan, he knew he had to design more than just a machine– he had to design an experience.
Doug transformed one of the prototypes into a pirate ship, and another into a spaceship. He didn’t have the resources to redesign the machine itself, so he used visuals to send the children on an imaginary adventure of some sort, removing the fear and anxiety from the experience and instilling a sense of wonder. He prioritized the comfort of the user to the extent of selecting pleasant aromas (such as pina colada or lavender) for the room. These “adventures'' have increased patient satisfaction and the number of patients who can be treated each day. Eighty percent of children previously needed sedation for MRI scans, but this decreased to less than one percent [3].
When you remember the people who use your design, two things will happen. First, your design will actually be used. Second, you have the potential to drastically improve the lives and experiences of your users. You won’t always be designing something as glamorous or noble as an MRI machine. You might be working on a keyboard, or a cushion. But the work you do still makes a difference, and the approach you take in the simplest of design problems will affect your success and impact in weightier matters. As Doug Dietz said, “When you design for meaning, good things happen [3].”
References
[2] https://www.ideou.com/blogs/inspiration/from-design-thinking-to-creative-confidence
