Thoughts on Usability of Stanford's Gates Building
Terry Winograd, May 1996

In the past couple of weeks I have had several visitors who were
disgruntled about our new building. I realized that there were some
interesting parallels with software design and usability.  The following
dialog is made up from real examples that the visitors provided.  I didn't
actually respond with the unhelpful responses, but they do reflect the
underlying attitude that pervades the experience that many people have when
they come to our new building:

Visitor:  I parked in the parking structure at Campus Drive and Roth, and
followed the directions to your building, but when I got to where I thought
it should be, I was at the Stanford Engineering Ventures Laboratory instead.

Unhelpful Response:  Just because that is chiseled in stone above the door
of what looks like a major entryway, you shouldn't assume that it has
anything to do with the name of the building.

V: So I walked on to the corner where there seemed to be a main entrance,
but there was no sign on it at all saying what the building was.

UR: Just because it looks like a big fancy entrance, you shouldn't expect
any indication of what it is an entrance to.

V: So I asked someone where Gates Hall was, and they gave me a sneering
look and told me I was standing in front of it.  So I went into the lobby,
but there were no signs, no indication of what to do or where to go.  Just
a couple of doors with seminar room numbers, and a stairway going down.

UR:  Just because it looks like a main entrance, you shouldn't assume that
it takes you into the lobby or that we expect people to come in that way.

V: So I figured that the reception was downstairs and went down. But there
was nothing there saying where to find anyone or anything, and not even any
offices around where I could ask someone.

UR: You didn't go in the proper entrance, so why should you expect any help
in finding things?

V: I went back up and could see another lobby through the glass, so I
figured I'd cut through the conference room, which seemed to be the only
way to get there.  There was no way to know if anyone was using it so I
opened the door to go through, and the people who were in it seemed sort of
annoyed.

UR: Even those rooms are the only visible way to get to the lobby that you
can see, you should know better than to try to go through them.

V: They told me to go outside and come back in the side door (which did say
Gates Hall), but once I got in there was still no receptionist, no offices
nearby, and no signs saying where to go.

UR: What did you think that big unmarked wooden pedestal in the middle was?
Just a decoration?

V: I walked around it [[ed note: counter-clockwise]] but it just seemed to
be a big ugly wooden blob.

UR: You shouldn't have inferred from three completely empty sides that it
was a useless blob. How do you expect to know what something is unless you
check it out from every possible side?

V: I went to the nearest office I could find, and asked where the computer
science department office was.  The people in the office gave me a sneering
look and seemed annoyed to be bothered. They said that there wasn't a
computer science office and that I should go back and use the kiosk
pedestal (on the elevator side). All that was on the screen was a big X, so
I figured it was out of order.

UR: You should have gone closer and read the manual posted above it.

V: So I asked someone who was coming out of the elevator, who gave me a
sneering look and said the X was some kind of screensaver and I could get
just touch the screen to get information.  I wanted to know something about
a colloquium speaker, so I tried to use the kiosk to find out who I should
ask.

UR: You're supposed to know what person or room you want, not have a vague
question like that.

V: The kiosk didn't tell me, so I tried to find a human being who was a
receptionist who handled questions for the department.

UR: We don't believe in human beings. If you have a question, search for an
answer on the Web.

V: Finally I decided that since I knew you, I'd come by and see you.  I
found from the kiosk (after a bit of trouble with not getting it to respond
when I touched it) that you were in room 388.  I took the elevator to the
3rd floor, and when I got out there was no information whatsoever about
where room 388 might be.  Just corridors going off in four different
directions.

UR: You should have looked up the room number on the map before you came up
the elevator.

V: So I started wandering around and after a while finally got here.  Can
you please close your shades, the sun is blinding me.

UR:  They are closed.  But that's another matter......

------

As with software, the deeper usability problems can't be fixed by interface
improvements once the basic structure has been programmed.  We could at
least fix some of the problems by providing better signs, a better kiosk, a
person who is designated as a receptionist for people who don't already
know who they want to talk to, etc.

In a way, the building reflects the same attitude as UNIX -- it's very
powerful for the people who already know a lot about it, and if you don't
know it or can't figure it out on your own, then you probably shouldn't be
there - go get a Mac or something instead.

As I wrote that last sentence, I realized that it might be read by a lot of
the recipients of this message not as a dig at UNIX, but as a perfectly
reasonable attitude about usability.  Maybe you think the same about the
building -- anybody who needs a lot of syntactic sugar and handholding to
find their way around probably shouldn't be here anyway -- they'll just
waste our time.  Right?

--t