Reading Response 2

My father delights in new technologies.  He also curses their very existence.  These products promise to enhance his life with a host of intoxicatingly rich features, yet it is unlikely my father will reap their full benefits.  His attempts to sift through manuals and intuit different combinations of buttons to push often prove unsuccessful. However, this does not dissuade him from supporting the likes of Sony, Apple, and Toshiba.  Yet if these technologies are too complex for my father to use, why does he continue to buy them?  What are these companies are doing right?

Recently my father purchased a BMW X5 at around the time the company was commemorating its one-millionth sale. (http://www.bmwblog.com/2010/06/08/bmw-celebrates-production-of-1-million-bmw-x5s/)  As a proud owner of a new BMW, he made it a point to showcase its many features.  The X5 boasts the idrive control system, which integrates climate, sound, and navigation.  Technically, it is an impressive feature, however, the complexity of the interface and cumbersome mechanism to control it detracts from its overall usability.  The screen is accompanied by a clunky directional knob, akin to a CRT television before the invention of remote controls.  Consumer Reports would agree with this assessment as well, listing the idrive controls among the drawbacks next to fuel economy.  (http://consumerguideauto.howstuffworks/2009-bmw-x5.htm)  My father would have known this as well as the likelihood he wouldn’t be able to use half the features, yet he still went ahead with the purchase.  Why?

Norman’s three levels of design, visceral, behavioural, and reflective, provides a framework for this inquiry.  The BMW X5 holds immense visceral appeal.  It is sleek, smooth, and sexy, perhaps even iconic. (See video post on BMW X5: Every moment has its icon).  As Norman states of the visceral, “make the car door feel firm and produce a pleasant chunking sound as it closes.” (pg 67)  From a behavioural standpoint, the vehicle offers fluid functionality and safety features.  My father refers to it as “the ultimate driving machine.”  Above all though, it is at the reflective level that the BMW X5 truly delivers.  The price tags are significant, attributing status to owning a BMW.  Also, the vehicle offers a plethora of technologically advanced features, from extendable sport seats to backup parking camera.  In addition, the one-millionth sale link above is accompanied by a blog.  This way, a community of BMW owners can connect and share their driving experiences, similar to what Vicente sites in the case of Palm and their “cool user story section.” (pg 105)  My father is now part of the BMW community.

While the X5 has much going for it from a design standpoint, it does not change the fact that my father cannot use many of the features embedded in this vehicle.  To what extent is the BMW design team aware of this?  Norman reminds us of Diesel’s marketing strategy, one that “deliberately confuses and intimidates.” (pg. 93)  Is BMW’s objective to inject a massive amount of technology in its vehicles to elevate its reflective appeal and status?  Is there reflective currency attached to mastering BMW technology, no matter how unintuitive it may be?

At the reflective level, technology creates a story, much like Norman’s Juicy Salif he finds “bizarre, but delightful.” (pg 113)  How willing are we to overlook unintuitive designs for the sake of a good reflective design story?  In the case of my father, the reflective design of the X5 is clearly the winner.  He has a story to tell.