I had an interesting talk, last week, about emotion in design. I love talking about this topic but sometimes it can be quite difficult to accurately articulate. Emotion within UX can be seen as another box to tick off, or if your client has a low budget, perhaps not even focus on. For me, emotion is key. Get it right, and we have something so important, we cannot imagine a world without it. Get it wrong and we are left with an arbitrary piece of technology. For the most part, emotion can be used by the UX Pro to convey importance, connection or nostalgia.
Here is a point to remember, while we (well me in particular) love to focus on the future of UX, it is all to easy to forget some of the important fields that converged to create what we now know as User Experience, such as advertising (unusual choice I know but hear me out and see below clip). Emotional design has been around for a very long time and the use of emotional design within technology is eloquently, and expertly, displayed from this classic scene from “Mad Men” which I think is a great TV series, and should be compulsory viewing for all UX professionals. Technology does not have to be boring or featureful instead make it relevant and important. This is why lean startup mentors encourage finding 100 happy users with just a single feature.
What do you think, is this video one of the best analogies for a “User Experience”? Comment below!
I just love the speech from “Don Draper”.
Technology is a glittering lure. But there is the rare occasion when the public can be engaged on a level beyond flash, if they have a sentimental bond with the product.
My first job, I was in house at a fur company with this old pro copywriter, Greek, named Teddy.
And Teddy told me the most important idea in advertising was ‘new.’ Creates an itch. You simply put your product in there as a kind of calamine lotion.
But he also talked about a deeper bond with the product: nostalgia. It’s delicate, but potent.
Teddy told me that in Greek nostalgia literally means ‘the pain from an old wound.’
It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone.
This device isn’t a space ship. It’s a time machine. It goes backwards, forwards. Takes us to a place where we ache to go again.
It’s not called ‘The Wheel.’ It’s called ‘The Carousel.’
It lets us travel the way a child travels. Around and around and back home again to a place where we know we are loved.