We have been secretly, for the last 18 months, been designing a completely new user interface. And that user interface builds on Apple’s legacy and carries it into the next century. And we call that new user interface Aqua, because it’s liquid. One of the design goals was that when you saw it you wanted to lick it. But it’s important to remember that this part came several minutes after outlining Mac OS X’s underlying architecture. Jobs began talking about Mac OS X by stating its goals, then the architecture used to attain those goals, and then there was a mention of how the new OS looked.

Sure, a lot has changed in the technology landscape over the past twenty years, but the Mac OS X introduction in 2000 is almost disarming in how clearly and precisely focused it is. It is framed in such a way that you understand Jobs is talking about a new powerful tool. Sure, it also looks cool, but it feels as if it’s simply a consequence of a grander scheme. A tool can be powerful in itself, but making it attractive and user-friendly is a crucial extension of its power.

But over the years (and to be fair, this started to happen when Jobs was still CEO), I’ve noticed that, iteration after iteration, the focus of each introduction of a new version of Mac OS X shifted towards more superficial features and the general look of the system. As if users were more interested in stopping and admiring just how gorgeous Mac OS looks, rather than having a versatile, robust and reliable foundation with which to operate their computers and be productive.

What some geeks may be shocked to know is that most regular people don’t really care about these changes in the way an application or operating system looks. What matters to them is continuity and reliability. Again, this isn’t being change-averse. Regular users typically welcome change if it brings something interesting to the table and, most of all, if it improves functionality in meaningful ways. Like saving mouse clicks or making a multi-step workflow more intuitive and streamlined.

But making previous features or UI elements less discoverable because you want them to appear only when needed (and who decides when I need something out of the way? Maybe I like to see it all the time) — that’s not progress. It’s change for change’s sake. It’s rearranging the shelves in your supermarket in a way that seems cool and marketable to you but leaves your customers baffled and bewildered.

This yearly cycle forces Apple engineers — and worse, Apple designers — to come up with ‘new stuff’, and this diverts focus from fixing underlying bugs and UI friction that inevitably accumulate over time.

Microsoft may leave entire layers of legacy code in Windows, turning Windows into a mastodontic operating system with a clean surface and decades of baggage underneath. Apple has been cleaning and rearranging the surface for a while now, and has been getting rid of so much baggage that they went to the other extreme. They’ve thrown the baby out with the bathwater, and Mac OS’s user interface has become more brittle after all the changes and inconsistent applications of those Human Interface Guidelines that have informed good UI design in Apple software for so long.

Meanwhile the system hasn’t really gone anywhere. On mobile, iOS started out excitingly, and admittedly still seems to be moving in an evolving trajectory, but on the iPad’s front there has been a lot of wheel reinventing to make the device behave more like a traditional computer, instead of embarking both the device and its operating system in a journey of revolution and redefinition of the tablet experience in order to truly start a ‘Post-PC era’.

An operating system is something that shouldn’t be treated as an ‘app’, or as something people should stop and admire for its æsthetic elegance, or a product whose updates should be marketed as if it’s the next iPhone iteration. An operating system is something that needs a separate, tailored development cycle. Something that needs time so that you can devise an evolution plan about it; so that you can keep working on its robustness by correcting bugs that have been unaddressed for years, and present features that really improve workflows and productivity while building organically on what came before. This way, user-facing UI changes will look reasonable, predictable, intuitive, easily assimilable, and not just arbitrary, cosmetic, and of questionable usefulness.

TikTok looked at what makes their content unique. Applying an OOUX mindset, the most interesting object is the “post” populating the feed. Two things stand out. First, the videos are very short, with only a couple of seconds of runtime. Which meant the usual distinction between browsing and watching made little sense. Second, opting for a truly mobile experience, their videos would be portrait mode. This meant users could browse and watch in the same orientation, one video at a time. The design decision to merge the browse and watch experience into one stream with autoplay broke all kinds of conventions. Yet, by doing so, it created a unique and engaging experience that is even borderline addictive.

Tinder understood that the selection moment is what makes them unique. They wanted to provide a quick and easy method for their key interaction to decide if a user is a match or not.

as I’ve wrestled with writing this, it’s clear that many just don’t see the problem, as they assume a cheap button is nearly as good as a proper dial. They’ll openly admit a dial is indeed better but a cheap button is “good enough” and that a dial is “just too expensive.” That actually may be true! There are cases when using a push button is the right choice. But not always. We need to understand when to try a bit harder. Yes, you’re spending a tiny bit more on hardware, but you’re creating a product that is usually much easier to use, reduces returns, and builds your brand which improves sales. Is this positive outcome a given? Of course not, nothing is guaranteed but we need to stop pretending there is NO COST to cheaping out on buttons.

The dial changes the frequency with a simple twist. The push button device “Deconstructs” the twist dial into two up/down buttons. Each press increments the frequency a tiny amount. This means a twist is replaced with many button presses. Again, they are ‘functionally equivalent’ but the expression and ease of use are quite different.

“Adding a feature” is never free. Always start with the user’s problems first. If pressed into using one of these four abuses, make sure to fully appreciate its impact, the friction it creates, and what you can do to work around it.  Adding a feature shouldn’t also “add a problem.”

As a professional UX Designer, I want devices to offer more. But UX Design isn’t about cramming everything into your product in the vague Hail Mary hope it’ll ship a few more units. That’s the sales team speaking, not the user. It’s the wrong motivation and creates monsters.

When content is shorter and maximized for engagement, we often lose track of the origin, history, and context behind it: a new designer is more likely to hear about a UX law from a UX influencer on an Instagram carousel than through the actual research which brought it about.The lack of nuance from algorithm-suggested posts undermines any value we could get from them. For a discipline known for asking "why" and for striving to understand users’ context, it’s time we become more intentional about our own information sources.

Shifts in visual narratives happen every decade or so, so it’s not surprising that the design world is moving away from the corporate flatness of web2. Instead of reminding us of the problems of our current world and the harm that’s been caused by Big Tech, the new, abstract forms of web3 distract us from the crises of the day with the promise of a new virtual world.

Whenever Facebook changes its interface, it has an impact on how millions of people communicate. In this sense, user interfaces are cultural artefacts.

You can look at an interface and see it as a clearly signposted user journey you should follow. Or you can see it as a collection of functions and affordances to repurpose. As raw material, rather than a guided path.

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.