What was your first experience with good design?
An eight-year-old testimonial about the Apple iPod
Do you remember your first conscious experience with a good design?
I sure didn’t until I recently began Google’s UX Design Certification on the Coursera platform. Within the first course introducing you to the very foundations of UX Design, I just so happened to click one of the “optional readings” hyperlinks (I don’t do it all the time — maybe I should?) that directed me to a landing page of, you guessed it, another Google Design page!
Because I was led to another Google-owned article and content, I’m not going to lie, I was a bit pessimistic about the article, as well as just giving time to read it. It felt like company self-promotion. Like Google of all companies needs more brand awareness. But turns out, it was a quick read that got me thinking. So nonetheless, it was well-written, worth it, and I take back my initial discouragement. (Sorry, Google.)
The article is written by Carly Ayres and is titled, “Is it Good Design? Well, yeah.” (Linked below). In summary, the article asks a handful of Google designers to select a good design and provide a brief explanation. Products like the wheelbarrow, legos, and electric kettles were among the prized collection.¹
While all answers were agreeable and good design choices, my favorite answer was from Damien Correll. What stuck out to me with his response was, not the design chosen per say, but the explanation of why. Correll chose the Sony Walkman. He explained. “As a kid, for whatever reason, it was the first time I remember being conscious that our things don’t just exist — but are designed.”
His response truly resonated in me and even inspired me to not only think about my first experience with a good design, but to try to write about it.
When I began to think of what my personal conscious experience with a good design was, it was time consuming and flat out difficult.
As a kid, most don’t pick up and use a product to simply announce, “Wow! This is great design!” I sure didn’t. (Maybe I did with the fork that allowed me to shove birthday cake into my mouth…no bias at all with some dessert being involved.) But quite frankly, I was pretty ignorant of design in general, even more specifically that things are actually designed for certain people and users. This ignorance lasted up until about four or five years ago when I began my broad interest and college studying in the field of industrial design. (Definitely still learning about design today though.)
Saying so, I realized that identifying good design is not so much a conscious experience. It’s not easy to identify since most people, including myself, don’t take note of good design and are more likely to notice only poor design. Good design invokes a certain feeling. It makes you excited to use it. It’s enjoyable. You know the experience of the design is consistent and will bring about that same feeling of enjoyment every time. Unfortunately, most of us do not accredit this feeling of ease and comfort to good design. But, that is what some think to be the point of good design — it’s invisibility. Nothing is unclouded and vivid to the naked eye. It takes conscious thought to see design intent, and one must dive deep into a design in order to find that certain purpose.
Within that realization of thinking of designs in the scope of the certain feelings they induced, I was able to bring up vivid memories I had growing up and using designs. But one truly stuck out. In Christmas of 2006, I received an Apple iPod (fifth generation) in the silver color. I was captivated by the aesthetics, features, and even the product packaging. But more importantly (at that specific time) I also knew then, I was going to be a cool kid on the bus, who would be able to listen to my Hannah Montana music (and God knows what else) going to and from school.
I didn’t know it then, but I was having my first experience of noticing a design. I was enamored with my Apple iPod, but I didn’t quite know why — well, at least beyond how it looked on the exterior alongside the technological abilities.
Thinking of it now, I can see that design intention. Why I fell in love with this design (beyond the classic cleanliness and simplicity of the Apple brand…as we ALL know). And honestly, how much I took that design for granted.
I think one of the greatest design features the Apple iPod introduced into the consumer market was its impeccable touch-sensitive “click wheel” interface. It was formulated to look like a compact disc or vinyl record (whichever you prefer to think of it as). Yet, I didn’t even notice that resemblance until it was brought to my attention within my degree’s curriculum in a “Culture of Objects” course. As my professor was explaining the inspiration of the iPod’s “click wheel” interface, my jaw didn’t literally drop, but my mind sure did.
Moreover, going back to the wheel interface’s design; its intuitiveness still impresses me to this day. I was only eight years old at the time of receiving this as a Christmas present, and yet, I did not need any form of instruction with how to use it. Being so young, I was in the beginning stages of knowing how to use any form of technology, so not needing a tutorial or “how to” pamphlet is almost unbelievable.
One could blow off this notability and say, “It’s actually not hard to operate an iPod in the first place.” BUT, what most of us take for granted is that this intuitiveness was completely intentional. The design MAKES it easy. It’s as if the design itself speaks to its user as they are holding and operating it. The designer knew the target users so well that even an eight-year-old would be able to use it with no prior knowledge of the device as well as no instruction. The designer was able to speak to the user within simple geometric shapes and no actual text or words.
This type of design language is almost universal and is beautiful. It adds inclusivity. It solves a problem of user inaccessibility. Of course, it may not be 100% inclusive, but at least you don’t have to speak English or be considered tech savvy in order to translate the intuitiveness of the usage within the “click wheel”. Inclusivity is difficult to incorporate in design. It takes immense empathy with users. As Tony Fadell, the designer of the Apple iPod, said:
“It’s easy to solve a problem that everyone sees, but it’s hard to solve a problem that almost no one sees.” -Tony Fadell
Moving along, this design purpose can be found in many features found physically on the iPod: how to charge the device, where to plug in the headphone jack, how to increase and decrease the music volume, etc. Even as I’m writing this now, I truly did not realize how great of a design I had in my hands. (I mean, even the first generation of the Apple iPod is included in the MoMA!)² It breaks my heart to think I no longer have it in my possession…I cannot even remember if I lost or broke it.
But just another case in point about how much I take good design for granted.
Regardless, the Apple iPod is a top choice for not only good design, but good UX design. (And this was developed before UX design became a huge job industry trend.) Because I received the fifth generation iPod, I also received a product with YEARS of user research and taking that user feedback into future design considerations. The touch-sensitive “click wheel” was not introduced until the second generation iPod. The storage limit on these tiny products kept improving within every generation, as well as the battery life. Also important, the actual retail price kept becoming more affordable.³
Yes, some of these enhancements were due to the actual technology improving, but the inspiration for what exact technology to focus on improving came from user feedback. The simple navigation with how to use the product was developed directly from observing users. This concept of putting the user first is why I loved this product, but was very subliminal and unapparent to a young kid.
So, the Apple iPod is a showcase of good design, good UX design, and still inspires me today. Though the Apple brand itself feels as if it is far removed from the era of the iPod, it still resonates with me how much history and work were done behind the design, and how much consideration was put into making it useable and enjoyable.
Thank you, Apple, for allowing an eight-year-old me to listen to my stereotypical music to and from elementary school, and for a now twenty-two-year-old me to reminisce on a great product that I still vividly remember today, and have learned so much from with what is good design and how to create a significant user experience.
And thank you, Damian Correll, for explaining why you chose the Sony Walkman (pretty much an earlier version of an iPod) as your favorite good design and for inspiring me to think of mine.
Though it may not come to the top of your head when thinking of your first encounter with a good design, it’s well worth the challenge and I encourage you to consider and contemplate it.
“Design is not just what it looks like and feels like. Design is how it works.” -Steve Jobs
[1] : Carly Ayres. (July 15 2020). Is it Good Design? Well, yeah. https://design.google/library/good-design/
[2] : Publication excerpt from MoMA Highlights. https://www.moma.org/collection/works/89465
[3] : Nate Lanxon and Andrew Hoyle. (October 24 2011). The complete history of Apple’s iPod. https://www.cnet.com/pictures/the-complete-history-of-apples-ipod/
