5 Common Pitfalls of Bad Design

One must wonder, 'How do you become a hit with the masses?' or hell, maybe even, 'If Steve Jobs was still around, what would make him want to check out my product?' It's a good question, and a legitimate one. But quite frankly, I don't see what's so hard to understand.

For one, good design intended for mass consumption at an epic scale should to avoid these 5 common pitfalls:

1. Trying to Boil the Ocean: Many companies feel that over-saturating an experience with a wealth of features for sharing, information, and branding will sell the product. It won't.
2. Failing to Understand Context: People understand the world through a lens of 'what they know.' If you think everyone thinks the same way as you do, you couldn't be further from the truth.
3. Oversimplifying: Many may argue that lazy design is always good design. This is untrue. There are times when making archaic things 'pretty and simple' may actually strip the value of it altogether.
4. Marketing is Not UX: Mistaking branding and user experience as the same exact thing. The idea of marketing focuses on 'telling.' User experience, however, focuses on 'understanding.' 
5. Process Over Innovation: The best design ideas are often innovations pushed to the limit within a constrained environment. Companies often glorify the process of implementing these constraints and fail to understand what truly makes ideas shine; the simple feeling of accomplishment.

Understand. Create. Evaluate.

And so continues my so-called design life.

When You’re a Designer

Nobody ever told me, but when you're a Designer:

• You won’t be able to afford your own taste.
• You’ll notice everything that is even slightly out of alignment.
• You’ll never look at a problem without “reading” the context.
• You’ll only analyze a space, you won’t just experience it. 
• You’ll be a bystander.
• You’ll be endlessly fascinated with natural light and shadows.
• You won’t be able to let anything go, your brain will spin, you won’t sleep.
• You won’t be able to talk to anyone about what you do. No one will know what a Designer does.
• You’ll be weary and content at the same time.
• Your eyes will hurt.
• You’ll be less respected than you thought.
• Your shyness will be interpreted as arrogance.
• You’ll be working on your craft for years, you’ll never feel like you’ve mastered it, but you’ll keep at it, everyday, again, again.
• You’ll remember every single thing you did wrong on a project, and that will keep you from seeing everything you did right.
• You’ll want to put everything in order, always… But, you may choose not to do that.
• When you’re young, your heroes will be irrelevant. You’ll figure out the people who really matters when you're older.
• You’ll mark the milestones in your life by the projects you were working on at the time.
• You’ll come to know a little about everything, you’ll know a lot about just a few things.
• You’ll begin to see any built environment as a continuously evolving form, built piece by piece by generations of individual efforts - You’ll begin to see balance between individuality and community.
• You’ll often have an opportunity to be the center of attention, but, you won’t know how to take advantage of that.
• You will be interesting… eventually.

Interfaces Organized Neatly

Ain't nuffin' like a set of organized wireframe templates. They make me secretly really happy inside. Like, really.

The Bobi Digital Shelf

It is here. My year-long graduate school thesis.

A bit of background for those just coming in. In the 12 months, I did a series of user research studies on collections in people's homes. My goal was to develop a solution that would directly address the lack of personal investment, tangibility, and value found in digital music today.

What came out of this research were a series of insights. I learned: 1) People valued things allowed them space in their homes, 2) In an Internet-connected culture, creative expression is everything, and 3) You can't simply put a digital photo in a frame and expect it to work; treat digital like digital, but make it rock unlike anything you've ever seen.

Today, as I prep for my move from graduate life back into the working world, I leave you with the spoils of all my hard work, the Bobi Digital Shelf (I really hope some of you hip-hop heads out there got the reference). It's furniture. It's an interface. It's a home to showcase your digital collections.

Please check out the video demo and let me know your thoughts!

Mysterious Stacks

I've been debating on this for a while now, but I think I want to add an additional layer of Jquery on top of my portfolio animations. I still need to figure out exactly how I want animations working, but my biggest concern is if this 'stacks' icon makes any sense to anyone visiting my portfolio. Guess it's time for a last minute user test.

SproutBox Reflections

I’ve always liked the motto, “Improve upon everything you do.” When given the opportunity to collaborate with the talent at SproutBox earlier this year, I knew it was something I could not pass up. Speaking with Marc Guyer, the CEO and co-founder of SproutBox, I quickly found a home for all of the user experience theory and technical skills I had built up for the past 2+ years.

We both agreed - web applications can be a great timesaver and change the way we interact with our world, but like many digital experiences, negating those who actually use the product can be disastrous and highly unforgiving in such a rapidly changing landscape of the World Wide Web. Marc knew this, as his company was built for translating great ideas into actual products within an astounding 3-months.

Assigned to Adam Quirk, the Director of Marketing and Operations, and I was the CheddarGetter revamp. CheddarGetter was an in-house project that had received some recognition for the brilliant idea of a plug-n-play API for recurring billing executed on the cheap. It was also one of the first projects at SproutBox and was starting to show its age. And it was apparent; huge blocks of text, confusing navigation choices, and a completely dissociating experience left much to be desired.

It was time to get in there with a sledgehammer and get CheddarGetter caught up with the competition. Working closely with Adam and the development team, I developed site workflows and balanced user needs with business objectives. Marketing played a huge part in all of this, as designing the experience of buy-in while easing the user was not as easy as it sounds. To engage, you must first set the mood, much like a movie, and allow the customer to explore the environment. Only after they’ve bought into the experience that the product is indeed something worth investing their next few minutes in would they continue with any steps we introduced later on.

This mantra and approach played a vital role in the curation of the home, features, pricing, signup, video, and entire onboarding design. Using personas, we could test the information flow and design pacing to optimize signup rates and allow them into the full product without dissociating them with external outbound links. As the product gets ready for launch later this month, we're all very excited to see the new direction for CheddarGetter and the potential to finally compete once again with the giants that currently dominate the space now.

All in all, I quickly learned that a 3-month deadline from concept to product isn’t a task for the light-hearted. It requires everyone to stay on top of things. It means leaving the on-site beer taps dry... for several weeks at a time. It means loving Basecamp. But most importantly, it means trusting what you know and completely putting yourself into the things that you create. For that, I thank SproutBox for the opportunity to learn something from the pros while walking away a stronger, more-confident designer than ever before.

Art Scene vs. Mainstream

Today, I'd like to make an argument for the art scene vs. the mainstream junk. Not just because I want to be a snarky hipster that thinks everyone should appreciate cinematography the way I do, but the stark difference between the two is incredible. 

Comparing two recently released videos - one by Katy Perry with Kanye West and Yoann Lemoine's Woodkid Iron is like looking at night and day (well, space and medieval times, to be exact). Both are pieced together by some very talented production teams, but even with the moody, muted palette, Lemoine's just looks damn good and brings forth an emotional brilliance that few will fully appreciate.

So, when designing, ask yourself: Is it better to create something that'll generally be accepted by millions or push the boundaries of what's possible by breaking the mold and go for something obscure and artful?

Progress

Search results

Mixcrate (a.k.a. playlist creation tool)

Optional mixcrate color labels

A hidden surprise!

It's coming along. The final concept. The paper. The presentation. All I need now is a design team of 4, 3 months, and about $20k to fund the project to full completion. Maybe I should submit it to Kickstarter.

But what is the Bobi Digital Shelf, you ask? Think of it as a device that takes the trapped MP3 collections on your iTunes collection and gives them that valued space in your home once again. It lets you organize your music away from the traditional folder structure. It lets you use it as a jukebox at parties - a social monster that'll get everyone talking.

Seeing as it's being built by a UX student as his masters thesis, it's user researched to the core and designed with the context of the modern home in mind (internal ports allow it to act as a hub for your router and NAS). More importantly, it allows users to showcase their musical connoisseurship while maintaining an ambient presence. The perfect complement to any home tech junkie's music system and a sexy piece of equipment to boot.

Finally, for the curious, yes - this project is indeed a homage to the RZA of Wu-Tang Clan. I'd then add: "It's a kaleidescope of usability; one that builds from 30+ years of UX lessons learned, but also functional aesthetics. Like Charles Ray Eames once said, 'Who ever said that pleasure wasn't functional?' I, for one, wholeheartedly agree."

Evolution of the Bobi Digital Shelf

What inspired me to create an artifact based on the "trapped" nature of MP3s? Coming from a generation that experienced the radio, mixtape, CD, and digital music file, I was heavily invested in taking inspirations from the past to explore my cultural origins and the place of modern day music in our collective history. I asked: "What makes vinyl more of a collectible than MP3s?" "How do people view collections in their homes?" "How can I design an artifact that fits into the context of today's modern day information architecture of multimedia?"

Not only did I wanted to connect with those who get kicks out of showcasing their connoisseurship, I wanted to generate culturally relevant justification for taking an already highly efficient digital medium (the MP3) and externalizing it into a physical material "thing" that could potentially have more meaning associated with it than bits and bytes.

From my interviews, I learned people - despite this whole green movement - showed appreciation towards items by allowing them physical space. Collections that had meaning almost always required an area in a person's home. The less space a collection took up, the less value the item had. When asked about their MP3 collections, many expressed great enthusiasm towards them, but often said, "But it's often hard to mix and share if you don't have the right tools. Even though digital is suppose to make it easier, I often feel like my music is trapped on the computer and the Internet." Others stated they wanted to feel more social again, as if technology mediates a lesser level of social interaction with their music. This, I found this interesting.

Working for a media company has its perks, even if their focus is more on pure aesthetics than functional technology. Attacking our archives of millions of photos, I sifted through and did a 2-month artifact analysis of our readers' homes and their collections. I found while almost everyone had their own way of showcasing their collections, there was a common trend of placing items in personally invested areas that have a curated collection on display. "This curation process," I thought, "has to have an effect on how they view their collections."

I also inquired on the different methods of organizing music itself. I checked out modern day music organizers (iTunes, Winamp, FooBar) and many forums associated on its shortcomings. I read into physical theory (tangible vs. digital), digital deterioration, and digital hoarding. I learned about tangible luxury, the sustainability argument, and referenced Weiser's writings on UBICOMP. Also in the mix are Dennis Dutton's Darwinian Theory of Beauty, interviews with DJs, and human gesture research. After 3 months of that, I was beat. But there was no doubt a linger set of ideas and ideals I now had in my pocket to pursue a design.

The core. The most important part of any design problem. I had originally defined it as trying to "fix" the MP3 - to give it CPR. But the problem wasn't the medium, but the lack of power people had over it. By giving people the ability to curate their collections in a more personal, meaningful way, there could potentially be a new method of interacting with our digital collections that we never could have before. But what to build, exactly?

The jump from research to design isn't an easy one, and to be perfectly honest, it almost never occurs as I expect it. Though I had originally started with the basic idea of creating an easier way to generate mixtapes) for small social gatherings, I wanted it to be more than a jukebox for parties. I wanted something that didn't draw attention to itself; something seamless and integrated. Perhaps a remediation from the past into today's version of digital life.

To answer the question: "Why does this solution cater to creating a better experience interacting with our 'trapped' MP3s on our computers and iPods?" required a step back and for me to realize that shelves and special dedicated areas in our homes played a huge role in collections. Would then a digital version of the shelf be the answer to leverage both digital (and its nearly infinite music in the cloud) and physical (we organize tangible music differently than "folder structures" on computers) space? I had to try it. It was on.

Starting with a few scribbles in my doodling pad, I attempted to sketch the user experience. I compared the walkthrough of organization habits from the individuals I interviewed and overlayed them on fleshed out personas. I utilized affinity diagrams to draw connections between the past and present, highlighting attributes and insights from what makes a collection truly memorable and valued.

Inspired by DJs' milk crates that used to house pounds of vinyl when the MP3 didn't exist, I liked the idea of naming the method of organizing music using the system I would create "mixcrates" rather than "folders." The idea was to allow them to create custom playlists and organization structures that felt open-ended enough to generate a form of stickiness that would be unlike anything your normal iTunes user had ever seen.

But should it be like OLED wallpaper that you can stick on any surface? A glossy piano black box with a screen? A projected interface from the ceiling? Mirrored glass?

Since it's still in the early works and interface elements are still being worked out, what remains are those design decisions and the usability test(s). To be honest, this should probably have its place as its own post, but for now I'll cover the gist of my process for those interested:

First, you need a purpose (a testing discourse) or a problem statement (can people figure out ___ works?). Second, you need a profile, task scenarios, environment, and evaluation measures (performance vs. preferences). Finally, it's about triangulation. This is best done in teams as to avoid subjectivity, so I'll likely resort to my colleagues for feedback and to help me flesh out the insights from user testing.

Woot! Had enough user experience talk? No? Well then, check back in a few weeks for the final design. I might even have an online prototype for you to try out!

Alpha Phase of the BobbiDigital Shelf

Exciting times. I never thought it'd come to this, but I'm finally starting the build of the concept digital shelf I've been relentlessly obsessing over the past 6 months.

A bit of background for those just jumping in. After 40+ hours of research including academic journals, interviews with DJs, music collectors, designers, breakdancers, and supermodels, and an intense artifact study of people's collections and mental map of organization patterns, I decided to take a design direction for my problem space of degenerating value of digital music.

Specifically, I was going put music back where it belonged: back on the shelves of individuals' homes. Not as mere personal collections, but as conversation pieces and trophies of connoisseurship, adaptable and organized to one's personal preference. Most importantly, it wasn't going to be trapped on some beat up iPod somewhere - in which case, you'd need to shove it in an iHome in order to play a mere few tracks before someone rudely interrupts with their own personal "preference."

This digital externalization of the traditional MP3 collection takes the form of a physical touchscreen shelf. Because my research showed that physical objects did indeed hold much more value, providing a newer way to think of music organization and challenging the user to use it a conversation piece was... well, a challenge.

Similar problems of playback in the digital age has plagued services such as YouTube and iTunes for decades. The same problems of scalability, error prevention, and universal naming standards reoccurred, though I did find a few ways around some of these issues.

Coming up with an intuitive way to allow both small collections (200-1,000 songs) and much larger ones (20,000+ songs) to fit on a single visual interface was a tough one. However, I soon realized that my user group was familiar with such technologies and are willing to acknowledge that despite its function is an externalization of a digital music collection, it's still not a normal bookshelf - it's a digital one. If based on that fact alone, I could push the boundaries on search and scrolling, but still remain true to a humble, intuitive interface.

The next few days will admittedly be rough, as I have limited resources and no money as a starving graduate student married to technology, good food, and travel. I do have high hopes, though.

Authenticity Without Real World Items

Never thought I'd be giving M$ love like this, but I cannot agree more than with this quote I heard today: "Folks need to understand that you need to be authentically digital, moving away from emulated real world metaphors." I agree these new experiences, like language, will require formulations that are more than just references to our non-digital world, but ones in the virtual realm as well.

Explicitly, this means a shift from dated shopping cart icons and "book-flipping" animations to new visual language based in contextual emotional states, delight, and universal principles of design based on other creative disciplines. It's about integrating the incredible repertoire of knowledge in our wonderful world into a digestible medium that empowers the users we design for.

Sales Like Design

These notes are taken form a workshop by Jennifer Bove, head UX asskicker of Kicker Studios.

First and foremost, let's just say sales is non-mutually exclusive equivalent of design. It's not set in stone, but let's just assume this is true for now. Think - proposals are much like presentation prototypes. Shareholders like users. A funnel of deduction that leads to an end and we finish with a product that is curated, tested, and based on good questions asked. Like design, empathy is key.

Let's take a service. A hypothetical one. Bevvies.com. We want it to be the go-to place for people interested in anything and everything cocktails. Think of it as Epicurious meets Facebook meets Meetup. We want to avoid information overload, as well as providing a mobile app and an eStore - all with a deadline for a proposal this week.

How do you approach this? Well, if you approach it like design - we simply connect the dots. When talking to our clients, ask open ended questions that get at their actual needs; how decisions are made, results they'd like to see, and ideal effect of those results. Get at the background, biggest challenges, impact, and value. You need this to win the work (instead of reciprocating exactly what they came up to you with - that usually fails 99% of the time).

Think design principles (strategic checkpoints) to see whether the client is the best fit for your company. You, as a company, need to benefit as well. Needs are needs - and they go both ways. Sales is not about persuasion, but determining a mutual fit.

Consider the process: frameworks help us determine how to hit success, so build one. Scope the client with a task flow that's familiar to building a website. Watch for client self-diagnosis and build a collaborative strategy that works for everyone. Conversation works!

Finally, consider the presentation. Sales proposals are like interfaces - one that reflects the users' intentions (not the engineer's) tends to have a higher rate of success. Consider the context, engagement, and delivery. Think of it as delivering the journey (storytelling) and use it to onboard everybody. Remember: it's about them, not you. 

Once Upon a Time

Great design isn't just about making something pretty (though it does help). Great design is telling a good story. A story that people can relate to. And more often than not, the more timeless, well-articulated, and engaging that story, the better the overall experience.

My approach:

1) Define the problem space. John Dewey always said, "A well-defined problem is half solved." Once the problem is defined, research should be conducted - ranging from interviews, surveys, focus groups, ethnography, artifact analysis, or alternative methods. Scenarios and personas are developed based on the new found knowledge from the user research. Immersing yourself in the needs of the user is the only way to truly understanding the goal.

2) Design with inspiration, creativity and passion. My design process tends to start with a sketch or a photography. Something I've become inspired by. Something different. Once I become inspired by an idea, I'll take it to the whiteboard - concepting and ideating until the there's literally not a single spot left to write. Only then, does low-fidelity prototyping come into play.

3) Test in situ, or in the situation of where the product will be used. I always tell the user, "We're not testing you, we're testing the design." Listening to the user is just as important as collecting legitimate data by ensuring their subjective desires, expectations, and reactions are genuine. From these observations, one can gain insights to the flaws and great aspects of any design.

4) Iterate once, twice, or even a hundred times. An iterative cycle in the design process allows for constant critique of the design based on user-testing, collaborative evaluations, and market feedback. Expand and contract; there's always room for improvement and refinement.

5) Deliver the product. No product life cycle is forever. Nor is there such thing as "the" perfect design. However, there is "a" perfect design; one that answers the problem at hand and deliver an experience that is engaging, memorable, and ultimately fulfilling.

Gots To Get That Chedda'

Here are a few mockups and wireframes I've been working on over at Sproutbox for those who are interested. Above, we have what's currently on CheddarGetter as their landing page. It's... a bit long. And ugh, simply lots of fail.

I decided we needed to hit the drawing board once again if we were to get anyone to actually use the service (it's not a bad service and the prices are great... they just have a shitty landing page).

I started by redoing the menu bars up top, combining categorizations based on common usage, and shifted everything up with less irrelevant copy and more meaningful content for the customer. Then, followed by a lightbox sign-up and video showcasing the actual product interface.

Then came the high fidelity version. Using CheddarGetter's branding as a basis of my design, I played off the idea that simple is better, getting people to the places we want them to go (sign up and video), while establishing trust by moving the quotes from the original "About Me" section over so it is visible before the page break when viewing on small browsers.

I also made sure the video and sign up window was extra solid and cleaned up (compared to the old CAPTCHA that just hurt my head looking at it), but also allowed users to go back easily to learn more about the product at any time.

Overall, the experience is cleaned up, broken up into more logical sections, and will be tested later next week to see if users prefer this version more than the other. Seeing as the other one was nearly impossible to read for me personally, I'm sure the new version will be a hit!

The Purpose of Digital Media Invigoration

To provide a new re-mediated medium for expression. To not draw attention to itself. To allow intuitive interactions with intangible media. To add value to the home. To simplify music by getting rid of static folders altogether.

All This Stereo, But No Party

This seems to be a problem with my audiophile obsessions. Even after I getting all of this great audiophile gear together, it still feels like a major pain when trying to get people to interact with the system and listen to their music. AppleTV seems like the closest solution with AirPlay, but what else is there out there? Surely there must be an alternative to throw a fun small party where everyone can listen to their tunes on a sweet system without having to whip out iTunes, throw on record after record, or plug in a computer with an atrocious RCA cable strung across the room?

Pictured: Bathurst Media Cabinet, LG 55lh95 55-inch LED HDTV, Usher 6371 Tower Speakers, some tube amp.

Thinking Design in Process

I've never been a theory-heavy person. With years of training the field of Neuroscience, Physiology and Behavior, I've been taught the practicality of the animal form and the rules of homeostasis. There were no secrets here. If you were grumpy for a day or two, it was due to a bad feedback mechanism releasing hormones or neurotransmitters that activated stress pathways. The cure would be to get some rest, wait for your body's balance to equalibriate, and then go on with your life. If the problem persists, there would be pharmaceutical solutions for it.

This logical, yet very constrained view of the human body had prepared me enough to pursue a career in medicine, physical therapy, or one of the many health industry-related routes, but didn't address much of why people did things, let alone put a stop to certain harmful behaviors that were causing them to be unhappy to begin with.

In medicine, preventative maintenance was always suggested and backed by research, but rarely took into account user needs, their mindset, or the contextual surroundings of their respective environments. It was then that I decided to shift my focus to developing solutions that would place user needs as a priority.

I decided to do it through the medium I was most familiar and enjoyed working with: technology.

Years later, I found myself working in IT and writing for an online media company about the topics of interior design, home technology, and software solutions for the domestic space. It was a stepping stone for a career change, but it was my transition into the field of Human Computer Interaction Design that led me to the realization that designing for delight was far more satisfying than designing for failed physiological systems. It was here that I embraced the reason why I was the only person to keep a sketchbook with me at all times during my medical internship rotations. It was here that I solidified my design process that reflected everything that was me.

It was also here that I started to do a psychoanalysis on myself in order to discover how I thought about the world around me, consciously using that as a reflective tool for feedback to how I adapt to ridiculously messy design spaces.

So how does one master the art of problem setting? I believe the basic building blocks to a great design starts with a few well-framed questions that usually result in lots of good answers. This helps build constraints, although like any foreign problem - talking to the experts tends to get you the best insights into what users truly need. Thus, exemplar research, interviews, and focus groups (when a larger pool of feedback can benefit) tend to be essential at the start of any project, but it's even more important when dealt with an unfamiliar space.

Above is the typical product life cycle for technology development. But one should realize that it often looks something along the lines of the diagram seen below (courtesy of Joyce Hostyn of Open Text).

Getting that thread to unravel is probably one of the most difficult things to do; design isn't a straight forward, linear, or quantifiable process. Design is about research, analysis, intuition, and synthesis, but it's also about designing meaningful solutions that get used and not thrown out after a few week's use (unless you're designing for that). It's about addressing problems creatively and with heavy doses of empathy scattered throughout. Socio-cultural context cannot be ignored or misunderstood.

So, when presented with a problem, I enter what I call, "sketch-a-holicism." I use pictures and exemplars to familiarize myself with the space. These can be gained through ethnographic observation, short interviews, and mind-maps that connect the dots without having to invest hours and hours in pointless affinity diagram exercises. If funds permit, I always go to the area of implementation and embed myself into the culture, just to see what it would be like to face the problem at hand. I consider this a quick dose of first-hand research.

Note: It's also probably not a bad idea to invest in a really good portable camera. Any signs of inspiration along the design process will benefit greatly by contextual photographs that have a story behind it.

At this point, many will jump the gun and dive into the books. I say to hell with that. If I can't experience and immerse myself in the problems first-hand, then there is no problem. A simple re-design of an existing solution will suffice and will save time and money for everyone.

After initial research, it's good to immediately consider what you want for the end result to be. Expectation management is probably one of the most important things to consider the design process, so don't ignore this. Finding out what the client really wants and what he/she says they want is a few days' work all in itself. I never rush through this process. Define what needs delivering. Then... plan to overdeliver.

I'd also point out at this point that the best part of design is being able to come up with sky-high, crazy solutions that make sense to you and only you. The second best part is being able to argue for it in a presentation to stakeholders and have them meet you on the same page. It's an exercise of elaborate communication. It's pretty much the closest thing you can come to diving into the dreams of the other person.

Thus, the ability to communicate with clients and keep the on the same page constantly throughout the design process is essential in managing their changing expectations throughout the product's life cycle - being able to catch these dynamic changes is a skill worth investing in.

After solidifying the deliverables, exploring the space a bit, and getting the client to match my pace, I jump into simultaneous overdrive. This process consists of a mix of concept development alongside exemplar, literature, and expert research in the field. In many ways, you can consider this when I hit the white board with my design team in quick, weekly meetings to consolidate what we've gathered for concepts and research. Critiquing ideas and using sandwich model compliments, no idea is left behind and no idea is too crazy or stupid.

But eventually, decisions must be made. I tend to take lead in such situations, placing emphasis on timelines and schedules, as well as re-framing the current problem space (which is iterated again and again after each play session a.k.a. weekly design meetings) in order to give folks a good idea of where they are in the design process. If it's just me on the project, then I usually keep an on-going self-tally of the decisions made up until that point with the rationales behind each step forward. These are good for reports to clients.

When it's time for building the prototype for testing and iteration, I often leave it on autopilot. If the problem was framed well and the right questions have been addressed in the conceptualization phases, then the rest should be a matter of getting it into the hands of the target populace and seeing how they react to it.

That's not to say there's no skill involved in interviewing and managing test subjects' expectations. Focus groups and test sessions can often be expensive and time consuming since companies must pay for both the participants and the user experience expert conducting the experiment. It's important to use the rule of: Plan twice. Execute once. Have the proper questions ready and don't waste a second. However, it's up to your professional judgement whether the experiment must stop, requires further questioning, or needs a second iteration in order to gain better insights.

This should've been mentioned before, but I'll say it now: It's also important exercise to monitor your biases and thought process. Everyone has them. Whether you're an engineer, cognitive science, or design background, what one considers "aesthetically pleasing" will tend to vary from 'kinda cool' to 'brilliant.' Knowing your biases will help you manage them - so you don't end up with an annoyed tone when subjects don't "get" your design at all.

By now, a pretty concise target and direction should be apparent and its refinement that takes that "pretty good idea" into "elegant execution." At this point of high iteration and beta testing, I also consider all the points of implementation: Acceptability, marketing, remaining funds, and time schedules for release. It's vital that the design withstands the test of time (or again, if it's designed to be destroyed, that it does so within an accepted time window). It's also important to keep the client in the loop, especially during these preparations before launch. The client should be made aware to the risks involved for each decision to be made at this point, reducing designer/project manager responsibility and merging responsibilities to disperse risk to the proper parties. One man alone should not be taking the bullet for a failed project. Everyone is responsible for the decisions made at some point in time.

Reflection is key to growth. At the end of each project cycle, I make time to write down the strengths and weaknesses I encountered. Here, I discuss how my team can grow from these points (perhaps pairing a professional with someone who's animate to learning something new) and taking a few days off to reboot for the next project.

It may be just my IT side speaking, but I see the field of design as very much like computer science. Programming languages changes all the time, but so do expectations and user needs. It's up to the practitioner to stay up to date with tools, build a repository for best practices, and adapt for constant change. Only then can the 'thinker' meet the 'designer' at the end of the tunnel.