In Emotional Design by Donald A. Norman, readers gain an understanding of how powerful emotional responses to design can be. He explores the 3 levels of design: visceral, behavioral and reflective, discussing how both the appearance of an object and its understanding can be affected by emotion.
This book should be of particular interest to UX Designers as it explains an important concept of their industry - understanding our emotional connection to technology. It goes beyond the traditional usability architecture to explore the effect our feelings have toward design, and how they can strongly influence our impression and experiences.
Further reading could include Designing for Emotion by Aarron Walter and Universal Principles of Design by William Lidwell which cover similar topics in award-winning fashion.
✏️ Highlights
Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.   —William Morris “The Beauty of Life,”
Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.   —William Morris “The Beauty of Life,” 1880
The second item in my collection is the teapot called Nanna, whose unique squat and chubby nature is surprisingly appealing. The third is a complicated but practical “tilting” pot made by the German firm Ronnefeldt.
Which one of these teapots do I usually use? None of the above. I drink tea every morning. At an early hour, efficiency comes first. So, upon awakening, I pad into my kitchen and push the button on a Japanese hot pot to boil water while I spoon cut tea leaves into a little metal brewing ball.
I value my teapots not only for their function for brewing tea, but because they are sculptural artwork. I love standing in front of the window, comparing the contrasting shapes, watching the play of light on the varied surfaces.
Design is important to me, but which design I choose depends on the occasion, the context, and above all, my mood
One reflects my past, my crusade against unusable objects. One reflects my future, my campaign for beauty. And the third represents a fascinating mixture of the functional and the charming.
The story of the teapots illustrates several components of product design: usability (or lack thereof), aesthetics, and practicality.
In this book, I argue that the emotional side of design may be more critical to a product’s success than its practical elements.
visceral, behavioral, and reflective. Visceral design concerns itself with appearances. Here is where the Nanna teapot excels—I so enjoy its appearance, especially when filled with the amber hues of tea, lit from beneath by the flame of its warming candle.
Behavioral design has to do with the pleasure and effectiveness of use. Here both the tilting teapot and my little metal ball are winners.
Finally, reflective design considers the rationalization and intellectualization of a product. Can I tell a story about it? Does it appeal to my self-image, to my pride? I love to show people how the tilting teapot works, explaining how the position of the pot signals the state of the tea. And, of course, the “teapot for masochists” is entirely reflective. It isn’t particularly beautiful, and it’s certainly not useful, but what a wonderful story it tells!
“It is fair to say that almost no new vehicle in recent memory has provoked more smiles.” (Courtesy of BMW AG.)
Everything we do, everything we think is tinged with emotion, much of it subconscious. In turn, our emotions change the way we think, and serve as constant guides to appropriate behavior, steering us away from the bad, guiding us toward the good.
“Whatever one may think of the MINI Cooper’s dynamic attributes, which range from very good to marginal, it is fair to say that almost no new vehicle in recent memory has provoked more smiles.” The car is so much fun to look at and drive that the reviewer suggests you overlook its faults.
I had just criticized one of Graves’s creations, the “Rooster” teapot, as being pretty to look at, but difficult to use—to pour the water was to risk a scalding—
His message seemed to be: “So what if it’s a little difficult to use? Just be careful. It’s so pretty it makes me smile, and first thing in the morning, that’s most important.”
In an article on “computer rage,” a London newspaper put it this way: “It starts out with slight annoyance, then the hairs on your neck start to prickle and your hands begin to sweat.
In an article on “computer rage,” a London newspaper put it this way: “It starts out with slight annoyance, then the hairs on your neck start to prickle and your hands begin to sweat. Soon you are banging your computer or yelling at the screen, and you might well end up belting the person sitting next to you.”
In the 1980s, in writing The Design of Everyday Things, I didn’t take emotions into account. I addressed utility and usability, function and form, all in a logical, dispassionate way—even though I am infuriated by poorly designed objects. But now I’ve changed. Why? In part because of new scientific advances in our understanding of the brain and of how emotion and cognition are thoroughly intertwined. We scientists now understand how important emotion is to everyday life, how valuable. Sure, utility and usability are important, but without fun and pleasure, joy and excitement, and yes, anxiety and anger, fear and rage, our lives would be incomplete.
I thought that the topic of aesthetics was well-covered elsewhere, so I neglected it. The result has been the well-deserved criticism from designers: “If we were to follow Norman’s prescription, our designs would
I thought that the topic of aesthetics was well-covered elsewhere, so I neglected it. The result has been the well-deserved criticism from designers: “If we were to follow Norman’s prescription, our designs would all be usable—but they would also be ugly.”
In the early 1980s, when color screens were first introduced to the world of personal computers, I had trouble understanding their appeal. In those days, color was primarily used to highlight text or to add superfluous decoration to the screen. From a cognitive point of view, color added no value that shading could not provide.
I borrowed a color monitor to see what all the fuss was about. I was soon convinced that my original assessment had been correct: color added no discernible value for everyday work. Yet I refused to give up the color display. My reasoning told me that color was unimportant, but my emotional reaction told me otherwise.
Although color has crept into the pages of newspapers, most of the photographs and advertisements are still in black and white. So, too, with books: The photographs in this book are all in black and white, even though the originals are in color. In most books, the only place color appears is on the cover—presumably to lure you into purchasing the book—but once you have purchased it, the color is thought to have no further use.
we now have evidence that aesthetically pleasing objects enable you to work better.
products and systems that make you feel good are easier to deal with and produce more harmonious results. When you wash and polish your car, doesn’t it seem to drive better? When you bathe and dress up in clean, fancy clothes, don’t you feel better? And when you use a wonderful, well-balanced, aesthetically pleasing garden or woodworking tool, tennis racket or pair of skis, don’t you perform better?
Anger at Harry, the used-car salesman, who overcharged you for an unsatisfactory vehicle, is emotion. You are angry at something—Harry—for a reason. Note that cognition and affect influence one another: some emotions and affective states are driven by cognition, while affect often impacts cognition. Let’s look at a simple example. Imagine a long and narrow plank ten meters long and one meter wide. Place it on the ground. Can you walk on it? Of course. You can jump up and down, dance, and even walk along with your eyes shut. Now prop the plank up so that it is three meters off the ground. Can you walk on it? Yes, although you proceed more carefully. What if the plank were a hundred meters in the air? Most of us wouldn’t dare go near it, even though the act of walking along it and maintaining balance should be no more difficult than when the plank is on the ground. How can a simple task suddenly become so difficult? The reflective part of your mind can rationalize that the plank is just as easy to walk on at a height as on the ground, but the automatic, lower visceral level controls your behavior. For most people, the visceral level wins: fear dominates. You may try to justify your fear by stating that the plank might break,
Anger at Harry, the used-car salesman, who overcharged you for an unsatisfactory vehicle, is emotion. You are angry at something—Harry—for a reason. Note that cognition and affect influence one another: some emotions and affective states are driven by cognition, while affect often impacts cognition.
People without emotions, as in Damasio’s study, are often unable to choose between alternatives, especially if each choice appears equally valid.
Robots, to be successful, will have to have emotions
They studied different layouts of controls for ATMs, automated teller machines that allow us to perform simple banking tasks any time of the day or night. All versions of the ATMs were identical in function, the number of buttons, and how they operated, but some had the buttons and screens arranged attractively, the others unattractively. Surprise! The Japanese found that the attractive ones were perceived to be easier to use.
“Japanese culture is known for its aesthetic tradition,” but Israelis? Nah, Israelis are action-oriented—they don’t care about beauty. So Tractinsky redid the experiment. He got the ATM layouts from Kurosu and Kashimura,
Tractinsky, “aesthetic preferences are culturally dependent.” Moreover, he continued, “Japanese culture is known for its aesthetic tradition,” but Israelis? Nah, Israelis are action-oriented—they don’t care about beauty. So Tractinsky redid the experiment. He got the ATM layouts from Kurosu and Kashimura, translated them from Japanese into Hebrew, and designed a new experiment, with rigorous methodological controls. Not only did he replicate the Japanese findings, but—contrary to his belief that usability and aesthetics “were not expected to correlate”—the results were stronger in Israel than in Japan. Tractinsky was so surprised that he put that phrase “were not expected” in italics, an unusual thing to do in a scientific paper, but appropriate, he felt, given the unexpected conclusion.
The psychologist Alice Isen and her colleagues have shown that being
The psychologist Alice Isen and her colleagues have shown that being happy broadens the thought processes and facilitates creative thinking
When you feel good, Isen discovered, you are better at brainstorming, at examining multiple alternatives. And it doesn’t take much to make people feel good. All Isen had to do was ask people to watch a few minutes of a comedy film or receive a small bag of candy.
We have long known that when people are anxious they tend to narrow their thought processes, concentrating upon aspects directly relevant to a problem. This is a useful strategy in escaping from danger, but not in thinking of imaginative new approaches to a problem.
attractive things make people feel good, which in turn makes them think more creatively. How does that make something easier to use? Simple, by making it easier for people to find solutions to the problems they encounter.
Put a section of wire mesh fence between an animal and some desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
improved and became more sophisticated. Put a section of wire mesh fence between an animal and some desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
Animals such as lizards operate primarily at the visceral level. This is the level of fixed routines, where the brain analyzes the world and responds. Dogs and other mammals, however, have a higher level of analysis, the behavioral level, with a complex and powerful brain that can analyze a situation and alter behavior accordingly.
The second reason comes from the feelings that follow the ride: the pride in conquering fear and of being able to brag about it to others. In both cases, the visceral angst competes with the reflective pleasure—not always successfully, for many people refuse to go on those rides or, having done it once, refuse to do it again. But this adds to the pleasure of those who do go on the ride: their self image is enhanced because they
some people seem to love fear itself: they enjoy the high arousal and increased adrenaline rush that accompanies danger. The second reason comes from the feelings that follow the ride: the pride in conquering fear and of being able to brag about it to others. In both cases, the visceral angst competes with the reflective pleasure—not always successfully, for many people refuse to go on those rides or, having done it once, refuse to do it again. But this adds to the pleasure of those who do go on the ride: their self image is enhanced because they have dared do an action that others reject.
Positive affect arouses curiosity, engages creativity, and makes the brain into an effective learning organism. With positive affect, you are more likely to see the forest than the trees, to prefer the big picture and not to concentrate upon details.
Designers can get away with more if the product is fun and enjoyable. Things intended to be used under stressful situations require a lot more care, with much more attention to detail.
Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.   —William Morris “The Beauty of Life,”
Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.   —William Morris “The Beauty of Life,” 1880
The second item in my collection is the teapot called Nanna, whose unique squat and chubby nature is surprisingly appealing. The third is a complicated but practical “tilting” pot made by the German firm Ronnefeldt.
Which one of these teapots do I usually use? None of the above. I drink tea every morning. At an early hour, efficiency comes first. So, upon awakening, I pad into my kitchen and push the button on a Japanese hot pot to boil water while I spoon cut tea leaves into a little metal brewing ball.
I value my teapots not only for their function for brewing tea, but because they are sculptural artwork. I love standing in front of the window, comparing the contrasting shapes, watching the play of light on the varied surfaces.
Design is important to me, but which design I choose depends on the occasion, the context, and above all, my mood
One reflects my past, my crusade against unusable objects. One reflects my future, my campaign for beauty. And the third represents a fascinating mixture of the functional and the charming.
The story of the teapots illustrates several components of product design: usability (or lack thereof), aesthetics, and practicality.
In this book, I argue that the emotional side of design may be more critical to a product’s success than its practical elements.
visceral, behavioral, and reflective. Visceral design concerns itself with appearances. Here is where the Nanna teapot excels—I so enjoy its appearance, especially when filled with the amber hues of tea, lit from beneath by the flame of its warming candle.
Behavioral design has to do with the pleasure and effectiveness of use. Here both the tilting teapot and my little metal ball are winners.
Finally, reflective design considers the rationalization and intellectualization of a product. Can I tell a story about it? Does it appeal to my self-image, to my pride? I love to show people how the tilting teapot works, explaining how the position of the pot signals the state of the tea. And, of course, the “teapot for masochists” is entirely reflective. It isn’t particularly beautiful, and it’s certainly not useful, but what a wonderful story it tells!
“It is fair to say that almost no new vehicle in recent memory has provoked more smiles.” (Courtesy of BMW AG.)
Everything we do, everything we think is tinged with emotion, much of it subconscious. In turn, our emotions change the way we think, and serve as constant guides to appropriate behavior, steering us away from the bad, guiding us toward the good.
“Whatever one may think of the MINI Cooper’s dynamic attributes, which range from very good to marginal, it is fair to say that almost no new vehicle in recent memory has provoked more smiles.” The car is so much fun to look at and drive that the reviewer suggests you overlook its faults.
I had just criticized one of Graves’s creations, the “Rooster” teapot, as being pretty to look at, but difficult to use—to pour the water was to risk a scalding—
His message seemed to be: “So what if it’s a little difficult to use? Just be careful. It’s so pretty it makes me smile, and first thing in the morning, that’s most important.”
In an article on “computer rage,” a London newspaper put it this way: “It starts out with slight annoyance, then the hairs on your neck start to prickle and your hands begin to sweat.
In an article on “computer rage,” a London newspaper put it this way: “It starts out with slight annoyance, then the hairs on your neck start to prickle and your hands begin to sweat. Soon you are banging your computer or yelling at the screen, and you might well end up belting the person sitting next to you.”
In the 1980s, in writing The Design of Everyday Things, I didn’t take emotions into account. I addressed utility and usability, function and form, all in a logical, dispassionate way—even though I am infuriated by poorly designed objects. But now I’ve changed. Why? In part because of new scientific advances in our understanding of the brain and of how emotion and cognition are thoroughly intertwined. We scientists now understand how important emotion is to everyday life, how valuable. Sure, utility and usability are important, but without fun and pleasure, joy and excitement, and yes, anxiety and anger, fear and rage, our lives would be incomplete.
I thought that the topic of aesthetics was well-covered elsewhere, so I neglected it. The result has been the well-deserved criticism from designers: “If we were to follow Norman’s prescription, our designs would
I thought that the topic of aesthetics was well-covered elsewhere, so I neglected it. The result has been the well-deserved criticism from designers: “If we were to follow Norman’s prescription, our designs would all be usable—but they would also be ugly.”
In the early 1980s, when color screens were first introduced to the world of personal computers, I had trouble understanding their appeal. In those days, color was primarily used to highlight text or to add superfluous decoration to the screen. From a cognitive point of view, color added no value that shading could not provide.
I borrowed a color monitor to see what all the fuss was about. I was soon convinced that my original assessment had been correct: color added no discernible value for everyday work. Yet I refused to give up the color display. My reasoning told me that color was unimportant, but my emotional reaction told me otherwise.
Although color has crept into the pages of newspapers, most of the photographs and advertisements are still in black and white. So, too, with books: The photographs in this book are all in black and white, even though the originals are in color. In most books, the only place color appears is on the cover—presumably to lure you into purchasing the book—but once you have purchased it, the color is thought to have no further use.
we now have evidence that aesthetically pleasing objects enable you to work better.
products and systems that make you feel good are easier to deal with and produce more harmonious results. When you wash and polish your car, doesn’t it seem to drive better? When you bathe and dress up in clean, fancy clothes, don’t you feel better? And when you use a wonderful, well-balanced, aesthetically pleasing garden or woodworking tool, tennis racket or pair of skis, don’t you perform better?
Anger at Harry, the used-car salesman, who overcharged you for an unsatisfactory vehicle, is emotion. You are angry at something—Harry—for a reason. Note that cognition and affect influence one another: some emotions and affective states are driven by cognition, while affect often impacts cognition. Let’s look at a simple example. Imagine a long and narrow plank ten meters long and one meter wide. Place it on the ground. Can you walk on it? Of course. You can jump up and down, dance, and even walk along with your eyes shut. Now prop the plank up so that it is three meters off the ground. Can you walk on it? Yes, although you proceed more carefully. What if the plank were a hundred meters in the air? Most of us wouldn’t dare go near it, even though the act of walking along it and maintaining balance should be no more difficult than when the plank is on the ground. How can a simple task suddenly become so difficult? The reflective part of your mind can rationalize that the plank is just as easy to walk on at a height as on the ground, but the automatic, lower visceral level controls your behavior. For most people, the visceral level wins: fear dominates. You may try to justify your fear by stating that the plank might break,
Anger at Harry, the used-car salesman, who overcharged you for an unsatisfactory vehicle, is emotion. You are angry at something—Harry—for a reason. Note that cognition and affect influence one another: some emotions and affective states are driven by cognition, while affect often impacts cognition.
People without emotions, as in Damasio’s study, are often unable to choose between alternatives, especially if each choice appears equally valid.
Robots, to be successful, will have to have emotions
They studied different layouts of controls for ATMs, automated teller machines that allow us to perform simple banking tasks any time of the day or night. All versions of the ATMs were identical in function, the number of buttons, and how they operated, but some had the buttons and screens arranged attractively, the others unattractively. Surprise! The Japanese found that the attractive ones were perceived to be easier to use.
“Japanese culture is known for its aesthetic tradition,” but Israelis? Nah, Israelis are action-oriented—they don’t care about beauty. So Tractinsky redid the experiment. He got the ATM layouts from Kurosu and Kashimura,
Tractinsky, “aesthetic preferences are culturally dependent.” Moreover, he continued, “Japanese culture is known for its aesthetic tradition,” but Israelis? Nah, Israelis are action-oriented—they don’t care about beauty. So Tractinsky redid the experiment. He got the ATM layouts from Kurosu and Kashimura, translated them from Japanese into Hebrew, and designed a new experiment, with rigorous methodological controls. Not only did he replicate the Japanese findings, but—contrary to his belief that usability and aesthetics “were not expected to correlate”—the results were stronger in Israel than in Japan. Tractinsky was so surprised that he put that phrase “were not expected” in italics, an unusual thing to do in a scientific paper, but appropriate, he felt, given the unexpected conclusion.
The psychologist Alice Isen and her colleagues have shown that being
The psychologist Alice Isen and her colleagues have shown that being happy broadens the thought processes and facilitates creative thinking
When you feel good, Isen discovered, you are better at brainstorming, at examining multiple alternatives. And it doesn’t take much to make people feel good. All Isen had to do was ask people to watch a few minutes of a comedy film or receive a small bag of candy.
We have long known that when people are anxious they tend to narrow their thought processes, concentrating upon aspects directly relevant to a problem. This is a useful strategy in escaping from danger, but not in thinking of imaginative new approaches to a problem.
attractive things make people feel good, which in turn makes them think more creatively. How does that make something easier to use? Simple, by making it easier for people to find solutions to the problems they encounter.
Put a section of wire mesh fence between an animal and some desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
improved and became more sophisticated. Put a section of wire mesh fence between an animal and some desirable food: a chicken is likely to be stuck forever, straining at the fence, but unable to get to the food; a dog simply runs around it. Human beings have an even more developed set of brain structures. They can reflect upon their experiences and communicate them to others. Thus, not only do we walk around fences to get to our goals, but we can then think back about the experience—reflect upon it—and decide to move the fence or the food, so we don’t have to walk around the next time.
Animals such as lizards operate primarily at the visceral level. This is the level of fixed routines, where the brain analyzes the world and responds. Dogs and other mammals, however, have a higher level of analysis, the behavioral level, with a complex and powerful brain that can analyze a situation and alter behavior accordingly.
The second reason comes from the feelings that follow the ride: the pride in conquering fear and of being able to brag about it to others. In both cases, the visceral angst competes with the reflective pleasure—not always successfully, for many people refuse to go on those rides or, having done it once, refuse to do it again. But this adds to the pleasure of those who do go on the ride: their self image is enhanced because they
some people seem to love fear itself: they enjoy the high arousal and increased adrenaline rush that accompanies danger. The second reason comes from the feelings that follow the ride: the pride in conquering fear and of being able to brag about it to others. In both cases, the visceral angst competes with the reflective pleasure—not always successfully, for many people refuse to go on those rides or, having done it once, refuse to do it again. But this adds to the pleasure of those who do go on the ride: their self image is enhanced because they have dared do an action that others reject.
Positive affect arouses curiosity, engages creativity, and makes the brain into an effective learning organism. With positive affect, you are more likely to see the forest than the trees, to prefer the big picture and not to concentrate upon details.
Designers can get away with more if the product is fun and enjoyable. Things intended to be used under stressful situations require a lot more care, with much more attention to detail.
