Scott Berkun writes about discoverability — what parts of the user interface should be discoverable and why. Once you have chosen what needs to be discoverable, he lists four ways to draw attention:

  • Real estate: You get a certain amount of pixels to use however you want. Larger targets are likely to be located first, and easier to be found again. Big targets are easier targets.
  • Order: You can place things in specific orders, from left to right, and top to bottom, that might form patterns people can learn to follow, depending on their language (some are left to right, some are right to left, etc.).
  • Form: You can use color, font, shape, shadow, composition, and other graphic design constructions to help make use of the real estate you have.
  • Expectation & Flow: Depending on how you use the above, you can put things into forms or patterns that are in some way familiar to people. The most obvious examples are printed newspapers, and how columns, line breaks, and headings are used. This might be achieved by emulating another design from another website, or from something in the real world.
  • Consistency: If you use the screen in consistent ways, you can teach people to look for certain kinds of commands in certain places. By being predictable, you can score some extra discoverability points. This can often be assisted by using available conventions, and trying to make use of knowledge your users already have.

It’s always interesting to read a good summary of ui design principles and in general I agree with this essay. I would like to add a couple of points to the list above.

  • animated transition: sometimes things are less important in one stage of the user experience and become more important later. An option in a list might become a headline. A dominant image may later be represented as a thumbnail or an icon. By showing an animated transition, the user can be led to understand the meaning of an icon, how to get back to where they came from, or where to go next.
  • motion: some things are important for a moment in time. A meeting is scheduled, an e-mail has arrived, or the user has changed some data that has an effect on another part of the display. Humans have evolved to be very good at noticing motion. Most commonly, desktop apps have used a blinking icon. Recently I’ve seen bobbing icons, as in Mac OS X’s task bar and the subtotal panel on Laszlo’s auction site demo.

If you have a little time and high bandwidth, you can check out a video of the Laszlo auction demo, which demonstrates the use of animated transitions as well as the little bobbing motion about 3 minutes into it.

I read Scott’s article thanks to a post from Usable Digital Media.

It must be interesting to have synesthesia. I enjoyed the vivid descriptions of this phenomenon in reading Blue Cats and Chartreuse Kittens: How Synesthetes Color Their Worlds.

My words and sounds lack texture and color, except through the effort of imagination. I do, however, feel the shape of ideas. As a software engineer, people have often told me that I must have an aptitude for logic and mathematics. I do enjoy math, but it didn’t come easily to me. For me, math is a language like Spanish or Java. Software is kinetic sculpture.

Bits flow through data structures and algorithms like water over rapids or a fountain. Data has texture and color that is only occasionally tied to its human representation. Code can take on elegant organic forms or sleek, polished edges. Old code can get crusty and brittle or retain the fragile beauty of Venetian glass. Some code is lumpy like oatmeal or spiky, like pine cones. Sometimes it hangs together like some bad knock-off of a Rube Goldberg machine and its hard to believe that it works, yet it does. It is delightful when it is soft and supple — writing a new module is like adding a partner to the dance.

When the software doesn’t work quite right, I can sometimes see the flaw in my minds eye, hiding in a fold of fabric or obscured by a shiny bronze gear. Like a potter at the wheel I smooth the rough edges. Mixed metaphors are natural as I work in the n-dimensional space that is my innate conception of what may be several hundred thousand lines of code.