Category: Information Architecture
The theme of this year’s IA Summit – Cross-Channel Experiences – was well represented, and regardless of which wall of the user experience room you tend to lean against, it’s clear we’re all moving forward toward this universal promise of “future-friendly” web properties, where our content moves from one format to another through the magic of metadata and chunking.
The hidden theme of the conference, however, and the one that relates most directly to my work as a content strategy consultant, was the need for this industry to “Ask More Questions.”
If you have kids, you’re already an expert. “Why is the sky blue?” they ask. “Because light scatters through the atmosphere in a way that makes it blue.” “Why does the light scatter?” they ask. “Because it reflects off of dust particles in the air.” “Why is there dust in the air?” “Volcanoes.” “Why are there … ” “HERE IS SOME ICE CREAM PLEASE GO OUTSIDE.”
The concept reflects upon our need as consultants and strategists to keep asking questions. More questions, all the time questions, keep going deeper and deeper until we no longer find anything new. When project stakeholders say, “We don’t like yellow,” or “We think this button should be larger,” it’s up to us to continue the discussion.
“Why don’t you like yellow?” you ask.
“Because yellow is not part of our brand,” they respond.
“Why isn’t yellow a part of your brand?” you ask.
“Because yellow is the primary color of our competitor,” they respond.
In other words, we find that what seemed like a flippant personal issue is actually deep rooted in the competitive nature of the industry. Of COURSE we don’t use yellow. Just as Pepsi shies away from ads and commercials that are bathed in Coke Red.
This practice of asking more questions helps ease the tension that forms between a client and consultant – or management and user experience, or designers and content creators, or any two members of any partnership in the world of web development.
Brad Nunnaly was one of the first to notice this undercurrent, and his IA Summit 2012 Recap post does a great job of summarizing how that thread wove itself through the conference. Brad brings in a new twist on the concept: we shouldn’t only be asking MORE questions, but also BETTER questions. Sometimes, they’re one in the same: “Tell me why you feel that way,” helps clarfiy AND dig.
All in all, IA Summit 2012 was both overwhelming – three days of super smart, well-spoken industry stalwarts tends to throw the N00B CSer’s brain to mush – and enlightening, both for the realization that, despite the percieved rift between content strategy and information architecture, we’re all part of the same community, fighting for the same thing, and for the relief that there is SO MUCH WE HAVE TO LEARN and that’s completely and wonderfully okay.
Also: New Orleans is still beautiful. As it does.
Highlights from the conference:
-
Karen McGrane’s Adapting Ourselves to Adaptive Content, which focused on our need to adapt workflow to encourage better chunking of content for improved future-friendliness.
-
Josh Clark’s The Myths of Mobile Context (PDF download of slides), wherein we are schooled in the fallacy of all of those pesky mobile myths, i.e.: “mobile means less,” “extra taps are evil,” “mobile must rely on apps,” etc.
-
Adam Conner and Aaron Irizarry’s Discussing Design: The Art of the Critique, which reminded us to be humble and level when receiving critique – and sensible and sensitive when giving it.
-
Dan Brown’s Managing Difficult Situations on Design Projects, a primer in overcoming organizational management issues, complex problems, and project dead ends.
The first rule of card sorting is…
No. I can’t do it. I refuse to do the Fight Club joke.
There are rules, though. Unwritten rules, yes, but rules all the same. And that first rule is the one we’re all taught to revere from the beginning: you don’t facilitate a remote card sort unless you absolutely have to.
Card sorting is a science that requires interaction and arguing and probably a few sandwiches and Diet Cokes. You do it in a room, on a table, on a chalkboard, behind smoky glass, out in the open; WHATEVER. Just make sure it’s live.
In theory, yes. This makes perfect sense.
But. BUT.
Budget, distance and sample size often get in the way, making the dream of in-person, get-to-know-you card sorting unattainable.
So you turn to remote card sorting, and you shield your eyes. Because while you’re going to get a lot of answers for a lower cost, you’re also going to get some serious stinkers. There are going to be some “Just get me through this so I can get a chance to win an Amazon.com gift card” stinkers. There are going to be some “I don’t really understand this process” stinkers. Most of all, there are going to be some “Who really gives a crap?” stinkers.
Good. Embrace them. We need to accept the fact that, no matter what, there are people who just don’t give a shit. Because those people are users, too, and we STILL need to sell them widgets.
Wireframes are, ultimately, an IA’s way of saying “this is how content works on the site.” It’s the only real way we can communicate concepts and relations in a visual way.
But be careful. Developing IA wireframes is about determining message hierarchy and content interaction. It’s NOT about showing where every little thing goes. Because that’s what a designer does. (Psst: and, they do it a lot better.)
Mule Design’s Stewart McCoy addresses this exact issue in his post on the Mule blog, “Design Thinking and Degrees of Wireframing:”
I’d worry about button placement. I’d worry about page hierarchy, what content needed to be emphasized, what needed to be on the left or right of the screen, what needed to be below the fold. I was putting lots of attention into details that didn’t address the strategic goals of the system.
I was doing the job of the visual designer and not as well as they’re able to.
The idea of integrating goals into the wireframes? The two- or three-phase wireframing process that gradually makes the shift from strategy to concept? This is so good. I’m stealing it for the methodology.
All it takes is a serious dive into the concept of information architecture – or, for those who aren’t mired in the seemingly over-technical terms used in Web development, the organization and structure of information – to see it everywhere you turn.
It’s in the music I’ve compulsively organized on iTunes, in the lists I periodically release on the world, in the books I’ve threatened to arrange by Dewey decimal system. It’s in the way I create a hierarchy for my to-do lists and in how I take notes.
High Fidelity becomes not so much a film about an independent record store as much as a manifesto in music architecture, with its lists and classifications and rankings creating a structured view of what makes good music (and where you’d find that good music). A trip to the grocery store becomes a test in correct pathways, a real-life walk through the hierarchy not unlike the food section of Amazon.com or Williams-Sonoma.com.
Last night, while searching for a graham cracker pie crust, I found that some grocery stores have a long way to go in this regard. Following convention, I searched the baking aisle. Not finding it there, I searched the frozen pie crust section. Then, the cracker aisle. Only after asking a clerk did I find the crust.
Next to the Mexican food.
Naturally.
If this grocery store had been a Web site, this flaw would have been a crucial failure of IA. His excuse: “Well, it’s next to the pie filling.”
My internal response: “Well, then the pie filling is in the wrong place, too.”
I walked out, convinced that I could have organized the store better – and convinced that I was a few steps from jumping into the deep-end of geekery.
(Originally posted at Black Marks on Wood Pulp.)
