Duolingo had already implemented several gamification mechanics successfully, such as the progression system on the home screen, streaks, and an achievements system. And second, top digital games at the time had much higher retention rates than our product, which I took as evidence that we hadn’t yet reached the ceiling for gamification’s impact.

The moves counter allowed users only a finite number of moves to complete a level, which added a sense of scarcity and urgency to the gameplay. We decided to incorporate the counter mechanic into our product. We gave our users a finite number of chances to answer questions correctly before they had to start the lesson over.

Depressingly, the result of all that effort was completely neutral. No change to our retention. No increase in DAU. We hardly got any user feedback at all.

When you are playing Gardenscapes, each move feels like a strategic decision, because you have to outmaneuver dynamic obstacles to find a path to victory. But strategic decision-making isn’t required to complete a Duolingo lesson—you mostly either know the answer to a question or you don’t. Because there wasn’t any strategy to it, the Duolingo moves counter was simply a boring, tacked-on nuisance. It was the wrong gamification mechanic to adopt into Duolingo. I realized that I had been so focused on the similarities between Gardenscapes and Duolingo that I had failed to account for the importance of the underlying differences.

Referrals work for Uber because riders are paying for rides on a never-ending pay-as-you-go system. A free ride is a constant incentive. For Duolingo, we were trying to incentivize users by offering a free month of Super Duolingo. However, our best and most active users already had Super Duolingo, and we couldn’t give them a free month when they were already in a plan. This meant that our strategy, which needed to rely on our best users, actually excluded them.

Now when looking to adopt a feature, I ask myself:Why is this feature working in that product?Why might this feature succeed or fail in our context, i.e. will it translate well?What adaptations are necessary to make this feature succeed in our context?

Our failure with the Gardenscapes-style moves counter hadn’t actually disproved any of the original reasons why we believed gamification still had upside for Duolingo—we had only learned that the moves counter was a clumsy attempt at it. This time, we would be more methodical and intelligent about features we added or borrowed.

We deliberately made our leaderboard as casual and frictionless as possible; users were automatically opted in and could progress to the top of the first league by merely engaging consistently in their regular language study. By keeping the game mechanic exciting, but making it simpler than in FarmVille 2, we felt like we had struck the right balance of adopting and adapting.

The industrial designers talked about contours that felt gratifying in the hand and actions that provided a fidget-like comfort such as flipping the lid of a Zippo lighter or the satisfying click of a pen.

In video games, the button you press to make a character jump is often a simple binary input (pressed or not), and yet the output combines a very finely-tuned choreography of interactions, animations, sounds, particles, and camera shake to create a rich composition of sensations. The same jump button can feel like a dainty hop or a powerful leap. “Game feel” (a.k.a. “juice”) is the “aesthetic sensation of control” (Steve Swink, Game Feel) you have when playing a game.

The difference comes down to choice—which is to say, Design (with a capital “D”). Game feel is what makes some games feel gratifying to play (a character gliding down a sand dune) and others feel frustrating (sticky jumping, sliding). These decisions become a signature part of a game’s aesthetic feel and gameplay.

The Browser Company has written that software can optimize for emotional needs rather than just functional needs. Jason Yuan has promoted the idea of “fidgetability” where, similar to a key fob or lighter, digital actions can be designed to feel satisfying. Rahul Vohra has talked about making interfaces that are first fun as a toy—enjoyable to use without any greater aim.

The 2D portion is a particle simulation that “feeds” the growing sphere made with Lottie. It’s inspired by the charging animation common in games before your character delivers a big blow. Every action needs a windup. A big action—in order to feel big—needs a big wind up.

This is the big moment—it has to feel gratifying. We again combine 2D and 3D elements. The sphere and checkmark pop in and a massive starburst fills the screen like an enemy hit in Hollow Knight.

Our digital products are trapped behind a hard pane of glass. We use the term “touch”, but we never really touch them. To truly Feel a digital experience and have an app reach through that glass, requires the Designer to employ many redundant techniques. Video games figured this out decades ago. What the screen takes away, you have to add back in: animation, sound, and haptics.