Elvis Montero

We are not the problem. The design is.

I want you to look closely at the following two pictures and answer this question: how would you open these doors?

My dorm’s door

Door outside the laundry room (you’d have to open this door in order to enter the dorms)

So, what’s your answer? Would you pull my dorm’s door handle up? Down? Would you push it inward? What about the laundry room’s? Would you pull that handle outward? If you’re having a tough time making up your mind, it’s OK. It’s not your fault. This is a terrible design! This is what many Donald A. Norman acolytes call a Norman door:

I am famous for doors that are difficult to open, light switches that make no sense, shower controls that are unfathomable. Almost anything that creates unnecessary problems, my correspondents report, is a “Norman thing”: Norman doors, Norman switches, Norman shower controls.

That wasn’t what I had in mind when I wrote this book. I thought my ideas would stand for good design, for objects we could use easily and efficiently — with delight and fun. And without having to read complex instructions or ask for help. Sigh. All those years spent studying fundamental principles of the human mind, of memory and attention, learning, motor control — only to be remembered for bad doors.

That book Mr Norman is talking about is no other than the exalted The Design of Everyday Things. Until my recent encounter with this book, I used to feel guilty when I couldn’t operate a microwave or a TV set. “What is the matter with me?”, I used to ask myself. Well, nothing’s wrong actually. Neither one of us is to blame here. Do you want to hold someone accountable? Blame the designers! Whether you’re developing software, building cars, mass producing door handles or creating any other artifact that’s going to be used by other human beings, a design done right could prove to be the decisive factor between love or unrelenting hatred for a product.

I was reminded of all this last week. I know how to open my room’s door simply because I’ve done it many, many times. I assumed I’d know how to open the door outside the laundry room, which, I forgot to mention, had been installed not long ago. I mean, both doors have the same door handle, right? Interestingly, I was unable to. Because of situations that are strikingly amusing, I ended up locked outside. It was very, very cold. To top it off, I was not wearing proper clothing since, well, I was going to do the laundry! Roaming around outdoors in my PJs was definitely not part of the plan. Someone in Housing Operations had to explain to me how to open the door. Conceivably, I felt unintelligent beyond reason afterward (it was a matter of a simple touch in the right direction).

Even funnier, though, was the realization that I was not alone in experiencing Rochester’s extreme weather unwillingly:

I tried, you know?

Someone wrote this message a couple of days after my amusing plight. Apparently, I’m not alone. A Norman door indeed!