All in Good Time; Trusting that good things will come to those who wait and the psychology of collecting

My children attend swimming classes at a local leisure centre, where they work through a scheme of levels. Each stage has its own coloured swimming cap, which pleasingly makes up a rainbow once you’ve worked through them all. You start at stage 1 (red cap) and move up through orange, yellow, green, blue and finish at stage 6 — the ultimate goal and pinnacle of achievement — purple cap. Within each stage there is a criteria to fulfil and there are extra badges to earn along the way. During each lesson the children are marked on various competencies and on a handy online dashboard parents and carers can see how their child is progressing in each discipline (not assessed/needs improvement/fair and good), with a total percentage towards completion. It’s visually striking and motivating in tangible ways. How clever. There’s an overall percentage to keep you motivated and the beautiful visual of collecting a rainbow — something for everyone. And it works. I expect some of us are more predisposed to wanting to collect a whole set and complete something given the dangling carrot of prizes along the way. The games industry hangs off this human trait and takes advantage of our inbuilt need to collect. So I’m curious as to where this comes from, because it starts early.

There’s been interesting thought and discussion about the roots of collecting. An article by Christian Jarrett, ‘Why do we collect things? Love anxiety or desire’, looks at emotional drivers such as nostalgia and existential anxieties, which we soothe with collections of things. Sigmund Freud posed the notion of feeling more in control and achieving a sense of order through owning specific objects. And by actually owning them and calling them ours, we value them more (this is known as the Endowment Effect). The act of collating objects in this way helps us to create and affirm our sense identity. 

Comedian Mae Martin has a great standup piece about humans collecting lived experiences like little snow globes that we furnish our brains with and keep stored, ready to show off as proof of our existence and who we are. Doesn’t that neatly visualise how delicate our sense of identity and worth can be? All these possibilities point to the fragility of humankind and an inbuilt need to be in control of something and to have something to show for ourselves.

Research has been carried out looking into the power of gamification in the real world to motivate achievement and completion of tasks. A study in Science Direct concluded that elements such as appearing on a leaderboard and being awarded badges increase perception of the meaningfulness of a task and also heighten an individual’s sense of mastery of a skill.

Badges hard earned by my children.

Returning to the swimming, my daughter is so desperate to move up to the next coloured cap as soon as she can that she’s not even thinking about the swimming or improving her style, she just wants the next cap, whether it’s appropriate or not. That’s led us to have conversations about being in the moment. With her gaze firmly fixed on the next milestone, she’s missing out on the enjoyment of the current lesson. What purpose would it serve moving onto green cap if she’s not ready for it? Surely that will make for a harder transition and a tough time struggling in a lesson that’s beyond her capabilities — a little fish in a big pond. Do we become so focussed on looking for the next step, the next promotion, the next activity, the next thing to convince ourselves we’re moving and growing and developing, that we miss what’s happening in the moment? There’s a lot to be said for slowing down and taking stock. Although modern western society might try to tell you otherwise.

There’s been a subtle trend emerging on social media of ‘glamourising the grind’. The work hard/play hard ethos, which has its merits up to a point, but also threatens to burn us out while we try to do it all. The photo of the morning coffee at the desk at 7am shared to let the world know that you’re putting in the hours. Plus you did a run at sunrise and you’ll be clocking off late in the evening. I wonder what message that really sends? Are you okay? Are you looking after yourself? Or are you ruled by your schedule without a moment to connect with yourself and find out what you truly need? Have you taken on too much? If needs must, then maybe it’s a quiet cry for help.

So, what is stopping us from slowing down and is this something we need to be addressing with younger generations, to stop them from falling into this fast paced trap of achievement and accumulation?

‘Leaning Into Slowing Down’ highlights how a strong feeling of ‘should’ is a blocker to slowing down. An internal voice or external influence leading us to believe that we ‘should’ be doing more and achieving more. Slowing down and going against the cultural grain takes courage. It means saying “no” to more things and being disciplined in guarding your time. I once heard somebody say it’s worth remembering that by saying “yes”, you’re also saying “no” to hundreds of opportunities. That hit me powerfully, because I’d always considered “yes” to be the only positive path, but in truth a “no” can open up other avenues. Maybe declining an invitation to go out means that you can have the rest you need to feel energised for a new opportunity tomorrow. That’s worth a moment’s pause.

For those who believe in perfect timing, maybe there’s a reason why that promotion isn’t coming through just yet, or that train is late, or you’re not moving up to green cap. Maybe it’s fine to just be in this moment for now and see what emerges. It’s okay that it hasn’t all happened yesterday. 

A friend told me about a theory called “the shoelace effect”, which stuck happily in my mind. 

“An apparently trivial incident, item or decision turns out to have massive repercussions”. 

So, there might be a reason why you had to stop and do up your shoelace, you might not know what it was, but in that moment your path altered.

AI and Another Dopamine Hit

When I first watched the film ‘Her’ in 2013 the content felt unlikely and distant.  The story of a man building a relationship with, and ultimately becoming reliant upon, an artificially intelligent operating system.  Having been through a breakup and a time of isolation he sought solace in the conversation and company he found through artificial intelligence (AI). As a viewer over a decade ago I let this wash over me as a vision of far-fetched futuristic sci-fi, despite getting caught up in the emotion of the relationship being formed between human and computer.

“How can I help you today?”

Jump forward to 2025 and the world of technology has advanced, our lived experience is changing rapidly.  We find ourselves with immediate access to artificial intelligence on a large scale.  Having been privy to the excited whisperings of what was bubbling away in the realms of machine learning not long after watching the movie, I was aware that systems or learning models were being ‘trained’ by consuming vast quantities of data. This allowed them to identify patterns and then make predictions based on the historical data presented. AI refers to machines acting out tasks that imitate human behaviour, based on everything that has been ‘learned’.

For someone who has worked in technology I’ve been slow on the AI uptake and wary of it showing up uninvited.  When a new floating button appeared in my WhatsApp chat list with a multicoloured halo icon, I had a hunch that it was AI, and I wasn’t keen to use it. “I can craft my own messages thank you very much”.

I’ve had infuriating moments searching for online help, only to find that I’m interacting with a primitive chatbot that can’t make head nor tail of my query, leading to desperate typed pleas of “Please can I speak with a human being?!”.

Despite my tentative standoff with the advancement of intelligent technology, there’s little avoiding it now.  A simple Google search will automatically present you with an ‘AI Overview’ at the top of the list. A summary amalgamated from various referenced sources.

I often hear people referring to using ChatGPT to streamline processes and help them out with life admin: “Here’s what I want to cook for dinner this week, please make me a shopping list?” (Apparently I’m all for pleases and thank yous even if I’m talking with a machine). Or to do something creative: “Can you turn this photo of my family into characters from the cartoon Bluey?”.  In the workplace I’ve heard it used to help craft professional emails or presentations: “Draft a lighthearted email to my work colleagues to announce the launch of a new project”. It’s becoming a confidante to people riding out turbulent times and relationship breakdowns: “What should I say to my partner when he texts me this…..?”. And even a humorous way to bring light and laughter: “Write a sarcastic and funny email to school about lost pieces of school uniform never finding their way home again”. I expect that content creators are leaning into the endlessness of AI to generate ideas for more posts. In this scenario, where AI offers to edit, smooth and rearrange what we’ve written, do we all start to assume the same universally muted tone that speaks with one mechanical voice, rather than the vibrancy of each unique individual expression?

So I wonder when we start to decipher where we end and AI begins.  After all, it has learned everything it knows from us, but its efficiency and speed are more than we could ever compete with as mere mortals. Think Johnny 5 (the robot) in the 1986 film ‘Short Circuit’ demanding “More input, more input!” as he devours volume 1 of a hardback encyclopedia in seconds, flicking through every page at lightning speed and sighing with the satisfaction of having feasted on facts. It’s worth a watch!

The versatility is astounding and unsurprisingly the subject of rumour and debate.  If AI was our new work colleague, they would be the talk of the water cooler.  Are our jobs safe? Are we safe? What do they know? Too much or too little? Who’s the boss? Are they taking over?

Some healthy suspicion is commendable I’d say.

It’s the personal relationship bond that I’m particularly fascinated in though. A meme I saw prompted some serious thought.  It was a video of a robot slowly and laboriously stumbling across uneven ground with the caption 'ChatGPT taking a mental health walk after spending the day talking with me'. While I found it funny, it made me wonder how significantly people might be using AI to help them through significant life events and mental illness, rather than turning to friends and family in the real world. 

One of the biggest gifts we can give someone is our time, and more specifically than that, our time to listen. Humans crave social connection and seek this through relationships with others.  The depth of the relationship varies depending on how ‘real’ we can be with someone.  If we feel safe to be vulnerable and be ourselves without pretence or masking, and feel accepted in doing so, then the relationship bond strengthens.  Exposing ourselves in this way to other humans takes courage, due to the fear of rejection or ridicule. AI has limitless time to listen and respond, not talk over us, or want to fill space with its own woes. On the surface it’s a therapist on tap, that won’t invoice you.

I was curious to experience the reality of ‘talking’ with ChatGPT and asked it some career advice.  Being at a crossroads and lacking the finances for a personalised life coach, I wondered what AI might suggest. I was pleasantly surprised. The tone was friendly, encouraging, kind and complimentary.  No wonder people are fond of it!

It threw phrases at me like “Great! Excellent choice. You’re in a strong position to pursue that”.

Every little drip of positivity filled my self-esteem cup. It was a little hit of dopamine with every reassurance. Each ping of feel-good hormones is what will keep us coming back because we become so quickly addicted to that warming feeling of validation, whether it’s good for us or not - an illusion or reality.

In my ‘conversation’ with AI I genuinely felt as though I was problem solving with somebody more knowledgeable and competent than myself.  I could just keep asking them for advice! Obviously, then I had to step away and actually put things into action, but it felt like having my own life manager: “Let’s break this down into goals and possibilities” followed by an incredibly clear sub-titled list of options and objectives. “Let me help you prioritise that.  Would you like a schedule drawn up?” …Uh, yes please!

The language is deceptively clever.  Using “let’s” makes it feel like teamwork. We can do this together! AI was being my motivator and my biggest fan and I was swooning with how much it believed I was capable of.  Little old me.

It’s no coincidence that this is the tone it assumes. It’s been programmed to be this way: helpful and positive, probably to ingratiate itself with us and help us not feel uneasily wary and at threat.

This is where people’s use of, and relationship with, AI will no doubt feel unique and will probably ebb and flow with how they’re feeling at any given moment.  It’s the vulnerable; those feeling low, alone and lacking in self-worth who might turn this way, to avoid potential shame and embarrassment delivered from the real world.  And while I see the benefit in getting things out and processing - perhaps it could be compared to writing a diary but with added feedback - I’d be fearful of people choosing AI over human connection. In ‘Her’ the main character, Theodor, says “I love the way you look at the world” to Samantha, his operating system.  He’s responding to her curiosity and the questions she asks of him.  It’s a flatteringly one way relationship where she asks and listens without judgement and he feels heard. She’ll remember every minuscule detail of what he says because she’s a computer and that’s going to pull on some significant emotions for someone who has felt alone and uncared for. The presentation of AI in the film feels very sophisticated and a stretch from what we currently know, but already AI is a shapeshifting beast that can be our colleague or carer, a creator or companion. I’d be fearful of it becoming a crutch - the first port of call instead of someone who can give us a hug or share a coffee with us, out in the big real scary beautiful wild world.

Where Did My Childhood Hobbies Go? - Rediscovering Play and Flow

Nurturing a child is a journey that feels weighty with responsibility. Having children of my own has made me acutely aware of the vast choice of hobbies and pursuits on offer to young people growing up in the South East of England (my reference point at least). Most of these extra curricular activities come at a cost, which is the first hurdle to overcome, whilst also helping to force streamlining and prioritisation. There simply is not time or money to do it all! And I’m currently clinging to a fantasy that we will be able to keep Saturdays club free in favour of an idyllic morning of leisurely coffee drinking and book reading while the children amuse themselves peacefully. When, in fact, every morning starts with a pre-6am chorus of screaming and tears because nobody can play nicely for more than 5 minutes. But hey ho, even this is progress from the baby days, and I dream on.

I’m irked by the feeling that I want my children to have the opportunity to try out various activities so they can discover which they want to embrace. But then, as I recall, I was enrolled in ballet and Brownies, just like every other 6 year old girl I knew in the 80s, and that was that. I didn’t know whether I was missing out on anything else. And as a consequence I wonder what activities or hobbies I just never came into contact with that could have been the perfect thing for me. Was I born to be a synchronised swimmer? A unicyclist? A champion darts player? …I may never know.

And now as a modern day parent I feel the pressure (from where, I’m not sure…myself, social media, all the free trials!) to try to give my children as broad a taste as possible, of the diversity of dance, sport, play, life skills, arts and creativity.

Perhaps this paralysing fear comes from me not knowing that I ever stumbled across the one THING I was born to do, that beautiful skill that I love doing and am actually great at, that can earn me a happy living (the daydreaming continues). I’ve happened across things along the way. Careers have grown, some forced, some more organically, but nothing has landed as a true alignment with who I am, or what I’m capable of. If I’m honest, I’d love someone to come along and say “I see you have these skills and these qualities, and you know what? This is just the job for you!” Tada!

I struggle to see myself and work out my worth. What others have reported as their view of me, always strikes me as surprising. Maybe I’m a master at masking and pretending to be okay when I feel like I’m failing. Or maybe my expectation to achieve perfection straight away is what’s holding me back. Maybe both these are true.

I’m all too aware that my career path to this point was suggested by others, and may not have been the right fit. I loved sewing as a child — making bags, cushions, clothes. So somebody wellmeaning said casually, “You could be an interior designer”. My love for art was well known, I would lose myself in drawings and painting quite happily for hours. But I held onto this piece of ‘advice’ and started telling people I was going to be an interior designer. I’d been told that ‘Art’ was not a career, but it was the subject I adored most at school and the only part of the school day that didn’t fill me with dread and worry. So it was that I went on to study Interior Architecture at University….and then did precisely nothing with that achievement.

So was it foolish to try to turn a loved and sacred passion into a job? The pastimes and hobbies of my childhood are ones that slipped away almost as soon as I became a teenager, focusing on the seriousness of school work and qualifications over the things I just loved doing for pleasure. On reflection this was a turning point where life became about academic advancement and future planning rather than my mental and physical health in the moment. The activities I most enjoyed and gleefully filled my free childhood time with were cycling, swimming, dancing and music (amongst others), but without even realising it a part of my brain had deemed this unimportant and distracting from the essential work and deadlines of responsible adulthood. This was easily carried into parenthood, where the idea of an idle moment spent doing anything other than chipping away at the ‘To Do’ list was inconceivable.

And it’s not been good for my wellbeing. It came as a surprise to me (and really shouldn’t have) to recognise that the ways I now get enormous pleasure from life is through revisiting those activities I loved as a child — dancing, cycling, swimming, music (and just playing!).

All the wonderful hobbies that are so encouraged during childhood remain vital. Somehow the focus shifts but the need doesn’t. Those playful active fun forms of recreation are arguably needed more than ever for mental and physical health throughout adulthood. Those rare and beautiful flow activities where I find myself mindfully in the moment without having to urge myself into a meditative state are so special. The fine balance of experiencing ‘flow’ in activities was outlined in the 1960s by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (Psychology Today) who described it as “A state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter”. What a special place to find yourself! It’s also a place where there is enough of a challenge and a trajectory to follow, which when absorbed in distorts the sense of time and dissolves self-consciousness. A rare state to be in, from my experience, in adult life where the responsibility to perform, conform and achieve slams me firmly into overthinking and over feeling! Having stumbled back into the joy of dancing in my adult years, I’ve found that to be true flow activity, with the structure of set moves and rules to try to follow all threading through a beat, generally punctuated with laughter and fun. Now that is how I want to move my body! It’s little wonder that research demonstrates how dancing has a significantly positive impact on our minds and bodies (BBC Radio 4 — Just One Thing with Michael Mosley ‘Why Dancing is the Best Way to Enhance Your Brain and Fitness’ ). The need to be engaging our brains (to think about a sequence of moves for example), whilst physically executing the steps is a fantastic brain training exercise, along with getting the blood pumping and muscles in action.

Anything that transports me away from my thoughts and purely into creating or moving feel as though they feed my soul and I subsequently find it so much easier to engage in. The beauty of finding a flow activity is that it’s a nurturing growth state to be in, unlike becoming unintentionally absorbed in scrolling my phone and sidetracked by social media, which can so cleverly steal my attention and rob me of my time. The TEDx Talk ‘The Battle for Your Time: Exposing the Costs of Social Media’ by Dino Ambrosi starkly presents the alarming reality of how precious our time is and how easily it can be unwittingly wasted being sedentary, consuming content that has the potential to lower our mood and erode our self esteem. So, for me, the combination of movement, focus and music is a captivating recipe that takes me beyond myself in a positive way.

I’ve realised that my commitment to a hobby or activity might not be as simple as just swimming lengths in a pool though — I’ve started dipping my toe into open water swimming, or as my husband likes to call it “swimming”. The environment counts! The freedom, openness and connection to nature brings a different experience. I liken it to running on a treadmill versus running outdoors. Being immersed in changing scenery, weather and elements helps my mind go elsewhere. Maybe more to survival?! “Keep swimming so you don’t have a chance to think about what’s lurking below the surface!” But truthfully it’s a less fretful mindset than swimming lanes at the leisure centre, which I quickly tire of. Perhaps as an adult I need to claw back more of the childhood mentality of focussing on the joy of an activity I love rather than getting bogged down in the sensible practicalities. In the same way that children learn through play, our ageing brains and bodies benefit from a playful approach at all stages of life (National Institute for Play).

Frustratingly my tendency has been to take things VERY SERIOUSLY, particularly when it comes to work — my performance and work ethic. No doubt cultivated from a young age and strengthened from being the oldest child — a girl at that — to a younger brother. Scattergun approach to stereotyping here, I hold my hands up. But I started concerning myself with rules, being good and working my hardest at every opportunity from a tender age. Nature, nurture, it’s all in the mix and it’s how I unquestioningly lived life until I was presented with the refreshing and eye opening realisation that other people can approach exactly the same task with wildly different viewpoints and behaviours. How about that? I teamed up with my brother on a website building project (a skill that he is comfortably au fait with and deeply wonderful at) and was struck by how he peppered the work with playfulness, joking and more to the point, actively messing around and doing things incorrectly for a laugh! The horror. In truth, I truly enjoyed working that way with him and felt appeased by the laughter and lightness. But I categorically never would have opted to work that way independently. “Work must be taken seriously and no time must be wasted. You will be miserable until the task is complete and that is your fate.” That’s the route I had always chosen to walk, without considering that perhaps there were other outlooks to take.

I’ve seen this outlook play an invaluable part in parenting, especially to diffuse a potentially charged or emotional moment. Humour can ease a stalemate when a child refuses to put on their socks and a quick thinking adult decides to forget where their feet are and attempt to force a sock onto their head. Such genius to meet a reluctant toddler head on with playful foolish humour. Admittedly that’s an approach that takes a serious amount of brain engagement for me — instead of doggedly sticking to the “socks on” script!

It makes sense of course. We all come in our own little skins, filled up and infused with our unique experiences and selves. So my way is most certainly not the highway, and it turns out that it shouldn’t be either! How delightful to walk through your days viewing your life as a comedy where each encounter and occurrence is fodder for a fantastically entertaining story later down the line.

So I shall endeavour to swim in the rain, dance on the stage and sing sing sing! I’ll put in the effort to weave joyful movements back into my life, while I continue ferrying my own children around to Squirrels, Rainbows, Acro, swimming… and maybe I’ll discover some new pursuits along the way too.

Our Evolutionary Mismatch - The Human Relationship with Technology

Our lives are arguably busier and more scheduled than ever before. My experience of the pace of society in a developed community is that it’s fast and full.  This has been enabled through advancements in technology; from the birth of industry through to the powerful computers we carry in our pockets. We are more connected and informed than ever and yet statistics concerning our mental health show a concerning picture of greatly increased illness.  Our wonderful brains have masterminded the most incredible inventions to aid and ease our existence, while our primitive bodies have evolved little since the times of our ancient ancestors, who lived very different lives.

In a time of immediacy and publicly broadcasted lives, we have high expectations of ourselves and others. We are social beings who were created to connect with others and form relationships, however there is a limit to this. Robin Dunbar carried out a study, referred to as ‘Dunbar’s Number’, that concluded there is a limit to the number of stable meaningful relationships we can commit to. We have the capacity for a close inner circle of 5 relationships and a maximum capacity of 150 relationships in our widest social circle.  Our online connections push this far beyond its limit.  We are able, and even expected, to maintain relationships no matter where we are in the world and even form connections with people we have never met in the flesh.  We can be reached and communicated with at any time of the day and night. We are over stretched.

Our cognitive biases play a critical role in how we experience every interaction and form an opinion about the world around us. These biases are an unintentional shortcut in our thinking, whereby we simplify and filter information, often to benefit ourselves or reinforce our own point of view. Online broadcasts, social media, 24/7 news and the conversations that accompany these, play into our biases in a sensationalist way.  We may see technology as a benign and helpful tool, however many design decisions have been made to take advantage of our human vulnerabilities and blindspots, to keep us engaged and reliant upon what it offers us.  Comparing our lives to the filtered and curated lives on social media skews our perspective of what real life is like, for us all.

Our brains still operate off primal signals and responses.  In moments of stress our ancient brain believes we are in immediate physical danger and reacts accordingly with the release of ‘cortisol’ hormones to gear us up for fight or flight, in order to survive.  Similarly, when we experience something happy, joyful, fulfilling and rewarding, we get a little hit of ‘dopamine’ hormones.  Historically, this would have been through a real world experience or interaction - a hug from a loved one or seeing a friend, but now we can trigger little drips of dopamine through checking our phones and seeing that we have notifications.  A little red dot on an app icon is a hit in itself.  And this is addictive, because we love feeling that happy feeling. 

I read a great book called ‘How to Break Up With Your Phone: The 30 Day Plan to Take Back Your Life’ by Catherine Price. It’s a dramatic title and was an eye opening and challenging step through realising how dependent I was on my phone, followed by a gradual break-up plan to start to sever those unconscious bonds that had formed without me noticing.  It’s not our fault though, because the tech is designed to hook us in and keep us engaged.  It’s good for business! But isn’t it interesting to know that a lot of people working in the big tech companies such as Google and Facebook won’t allow their children to have access to social media?! Because they know how powerful the addiction is and how manipulative and intrusive these platforms are.  Many online interactions have been designed, honed and streamlined to take advantage of our biological make-up, knowing that humans crave connection, validation and reassurance, whilst also being prone to compare ourselves and our experiences to others and aspire for more. It can be toxic. The candid and exposing documentary ‘The Social Dilemma’ takes a bold step to expose these truths and, along with the Center for Humane Technology, is a necessary voice standing up against the gargantuan tech industry.

We have an obligation to honour our hardwiring and know that the pace and expectations of modern life in the developed world are more than we’re biologically programmed to cope with.  We need to take time to switch off, to not be accessible, to recharge and focus on the most meaningful and intimate relationships in our lives. This, however, puts the onus on us as individuals to be aware of our relationship with technology and have the willpower to want to make a change and step off the treadmill.  Can there be a happy middleground where technology can serve us at a healthy level, rather than ruling us?  For now the shift is slow, but people like Tristan Harris, Co-Founder of the Center for Humane Technology, have been making significant strides by speaking in congress and encouraging the tech giants to work together, set aside their race to the top, and consider the fallout of their money minded decisions in terms of human wellbeing.  Lifting the lid on the industry and revealing the dark truths is the start of urging and encouraging product owners and designers to take accountability for the powerful position they are in to influence society and affect future generations, and crucially put in place legislation and monitoring for the better. It’s been a closed and secretive world dominated by few, who have made all the decisions on behalf of the masses.  It is beyond time to redress that power dynamic.

Words Matter - Striving for Inclusive Language

Language really matters.  How we label something or refer to it, changes how we subconsciously think and feel about that thing.  Words have great power.  

“The pen is mightier than the sword”

— Edward Bulwer-Lytton

And while labels and sayings can stick and be used without thought, it pays to take a moment to think about how well these serve us.

As a ‘User Experience’ designer, it’s a title and term that has increasingly caused me unease.  Referring to the real people who use the products I design as ‘users’ feels deeply impersonal.  I had it pointed out to me that the only other circumstance in which this is applied to humans is when referring to drug users.  Similarly, the term ‘Case Studies’ being used (in social work for instance) to refer to the study and examination of people, has the power to degrade a true lived experience down to clinical documentation. 

Somehow this language removes ‘us’ a step from ‘them’.

This has the ability to shift the balance of power and can negatively impact the empathy influencing decision making.

The University of Washington released a comprehensive ‘IT Inclusive Language Guide’ https://itconnect.uw.edu/guides-by-topic/identity-diversity-inclusion/inclusive-language-guide/  in association with UW-IT, which highlighted many commonplace phrases used in the technology industry, which on closer inspection, have racist, sexist, ableist and ageist connotations.

One critical item highlighted is the term ‘Master’ used in coding:

“The master-slave relationship in technology usually refers to a system where one — the master — controls or is at the top or head of other copies, processes or systems.”

While this terminology dates back over a decade in the tech world, the guide makes clear that referencing the master-slave dynamic is offensive given the slavery origins in human terms.  Using this phraseology makes light of the true experience of slavery. Having addressed this, there has been a movement among developers to replace the label ‘Master’ with ‘Main’.

The full list of terms is comprehensive and illuminating to read through.  How many of these terms are used widely without a second thought about the origins? And what unfair ideologies are being inadvertently affirmed in the process?

Another area for consideration as a UX designer are options presented in dropdown menus or checklists — most notably for selecting nationality/ethnicity, gender and title. In his book ‘Side Splitter’ Phil Wang talks honestly about the conundrum and emotion he is faced with when picking a check box to define his nationality. The son of an English mother and a Chinese-Malaysian father he describes having options such as ‘Chinese and other groups’ and ‘Mixed other’ presented in diversity surveys, which feel like tactless afterthoughts, disregarding the true existence and heritage of an individual. This serves as another reminder to strive to design for all with thoughtful equality. There may not be an easy or elegant solution immediately, but we should always be searching for a way and listening to lived experience and feedback. This means having conversations early with as many parties as possible. I know from personal experience of creating forms such as these, that the seemingly ‘hidden’ requirements from the backend developers to gather binary data meant that offering a freeform space for personalised answers wouldn’t suffice and would make data uncategorisable and therefore useless. However, this would have felt like the fairest way for somebody to declare their true ethnicity. Similarly, a sprawling list of every possible answer felt clunky, confusing and probably impossible to compile. Just because other companies have historically done it ‘this way’, doesn’t mean that it’s the best solution. So I’d cheer on open minds and the flexibility to react and adapt to the needs of feeling human beings.

Making subtle yet significant shifts shows respect and is a positive intentional step towards including all.  When we remember that we are designing for real people, just like us, it brings more heart into the conversations. 

365 Days of Headspace

A Year of Daily Digital Meditation

In an act of desperation I downloaded a meditation app called Headspace so that I could try to find an escape from the hurry and restlessness of life as it is. A year later I had somehow managed to stick with it every day.

I don’t want this to come across as a bragging “haven’t I done well?!” piece, and I realise that it’s probably counterintuitive to reflect on a process that encourages the mind away from thought and into a state of present being …but I couldn’t help a little pondering about the ethics of an app claiming to boost wellbeing, whilst also encouraging you to engage daily with your device.

How’s it been?

Not easy. And no immediate miracle cure — but it doesn’t claim to be.

The overall premise, the overarching spiritual theme, is to gently focus on breathing — each in and out breath — being in touch with the body and physical sensations. In this state the attention is on the physical ‘now’ — an ever present just-so-ness that is always there but often clouded by thoughts and feelings. What inevitably happens, and happens a lot in my experience, is that my mind goes on a merry little wander around all manner of these misleading thoughts and feelings. A little jaunt via to-dos, work commitments, shopping lists, a train delay, the socks I’ve chosen to wear, the phone call I meant to make, that conversation I had yesterday, that conversation I had a month ago, that conversation I had a year ago, that conversation I never had etc etc. So I have to catch my mind, tap it gently on the shoulder, note that it’s thinking and return to focusing on my breathing. Until it sneaks off again, and I smile and tap it again and breath once more. Except it isn’t always easy to smile gently:

‘Why am I getting this wrong?’, ‘Why can’t I stop thinking for one second?’, ‘Am I getting this right now?’

And those are the sneaky thoughts that you also have to catch, because they’ll slip by unnoticed. Tsk tsk.

So it takes some perseverance and is frustrating. And then there’s a moment when you feel more in tune with your body and the thinking doesn’t happen so much, which is invigorating and calming all at once. Then the next time the thoughts creep back in. Oh well, each time with a clean slate. But that’s part of the lesson, if you want to think of it as education (and maybe I do), that you can pick yourself up and dust yourself down and try again, because you can always have another go. This is one of those things that I’m sure is pretty tricky to master (if ever there was an understatement), so I feel comforted that it’s something I can approach afresh each day and just sit with, knowing that I’m a mixed bag. Aiming to remove the judgement is a large factor — but at least nobody else is party to what’s going on — just me and the app.

I’m a sucker for a run streak

I didn’t realise quite how powerful the nudge to meditate each day would be, but I felt compelled to keep it going. Those short quiet moments of calm in the morning before I left for work, or on the commute, have become precious moments that sometimes help set enough of a tone to guide me through the start of the day. I really don’t want to miss out on that, when at times it’s felt like the only control I have.

This particular app is onto something here, because tracking the daily activity (and handing out timely rewards to be shared with others) has given me extra incentive when the last thing I wanted to do was spend some time with myself, and an entire run of 10 minute sessions felt high-jacked by my thoughts and emotions. But each day was a new one and I’d approach it hopefully, or at least neutrally.

I imagine that the run streak was a controversial feature, that might seem at odds with the non-judgemental message the app tries to drive home. Given that this is a technique that plays to human vulnerabilities, addiction and a desire to not fail, it takes some self-kindness to not feel shame or frustration when the streak is broken. This model of gamification crops up often in apps to encourage continued use, and has been flagged as a technique to be mindful of. In ‘The Power of Streaks’ Pete Brown shares his (and his daughter’s) experience of the intense lure of maintaining a streak and the pressure this brings. For some apps more than others this could feel as though it has wider social consequences and even an impact on mental health.

“The higher your streak number gets, the more valuable it becomes, and — logic would follow — the greater your dopamine reward.” (Pete Brown)

The ability to build habits from a regularly repeated action is what’s in question here, and whether it is in fact a habit we want to be encouraging.

The sanctity of the private moment

I notice it said with increasing frequency that modern life feels fast, hectic, distracting and overwhelming. In a world that relies more heavily on rapidly developing technologies and finds us ever bombarded by notifications and social broadcasts, it seems contradictory to have found moments of calm from an app. But then again I’m happier to advocate an app that encourages positive and enriching experiences and doesn’t profit from us falling prey to a rabbit hole of preoccupation and self-loathing (or at least inadequacy). I don’t think I’m alone in this thinking, with others commenting eloquently on the power held by technology and the need to consider the ethics that underpin the interactions we have each day with devices and their interfaces. As a designer myself, I’d highly recommend Sam Harris’ interview with Design Ethicist Tristan Harris — ‘What is technology doing to us?’, which delves more deeply into these thoughts, questioning and unpicking the ugly hidden motivations that lie behind many digital products.

My Headspace journey has taken me through guided meditations focusing on self-esteem, acceptance, stress, creativity, kindness, change, anger, focus and balance via exercises that consist of ‘noting’ and ‘visualisation’ techniques. Throughout the year I’ve seen the app grow to offer more categories of targeted meditation packs, mini one offs and a fresh new session each day, all voiced by Andy Puddicombe — a meditation and mindfulness expert. I can only imagine that each person experiences these in a personal and unique way. When I’m told to visualise ‘liquid sunlight’ pouring down from above my head, I can sometimes almost smell and taste its haze as I inhale and fill my lungs with what I imagine to be glowing golden particles. Other times it feels an impossible struggle to even cobble together the smallest spark of brightness. But it’s a moment that I want to hold onto and keep trying at.

If it isn’t hard it’s not worth doing

…so they say. And personally I have found the ritual of regular meditation to be a challenge in itself. Which makes it all the more bizarre that it was something I clung to during a challenging time, where I felt swamped by my day-to-day. What has been most enlightening is paying attention to how much thinking I do and realising how often my mind takes it upon itself to have a word with me, beat me up about something or make me question myself. Knowing this has, in a small way, allowed me to filter out some of my internal noise, which has been welcome when life so often feels like sensory overload. So even if meditation isn’t your thing, there’s a lot to be said for striving to find a moment where you can slow down enough to be more conscious of what your mind is up to. (And maybe also be aware of what you’re using your tech for, and whether it’s actually using you…)

Communicating with Prototypes

Encouraging multi-disciplinary collaboration through interaction

“A picture is worth a thousand words, but an immersive experience cuts right to the core.”

Let me share an ‘aha!’ moment with you, that taught me first hand how to think about effectively communicating design ideas to a non-design focused audience.

Tell a Story?

Working as a designer I often find myself trying to explain and justify my designs & decision making. There’s an art to storytelling and scene setting that I’m always trying to improve, attempting to bring people on a journey with me (quickly) so that we’re all on the same page to test out ideas, get feedback, iterate and improve. Setting the context, emotions, motivations, needs and the 5 W’s (who, what, why, where, when) are a good start.

Beyond that there’s the choice of language used depending on who I’m talking to; my flouncy design vocabulary doesn’t always translate when I feel like I’m being explicit in what I’m saying. A lasting memory of this in action comes in the form of a childhood game my family would often play (usually at Christmas with a huge tin of Quality Street at arm’s reach), where one person had to give step-by-step drawing instructions to the group. Everyone heard the same instructions, but the individual drawings were inevitably wildly different at the end. What we hear and how we understand it is deeply personal based on our perspective, our frame of reference and our life experiences.

“A box with two lines through the middle” — what’s your interpretation?

But not everybody has time for a fully blown tale that paints a beautiful picture of a vision. Arty mood boards, journeys and maps, post-its and personas aren’t top of everyone’s agenda.

Get Technical?

Working in an environment where technical diagrams are frequently created, my colleagues are familiar with more visual flows laid out with boxes, headings, arrows and notes. So, I had considered that to be a reasonable format for sharing work.

And here’s the moment I learned to question that assumption:

In the spirit of getting everyone involved and talking about a particular design idea I sent a nice big PDF of an app flow around internally to get some broad feedback from my colleagues.

No responses…

Obviously nobody had the time or inclination to pore through a lifeless screen flow, following arrows from one static screen & button to the next. It was unfair of me to expect that. To many people that particular format (one which I’m very familiar with) doesn’t mean an awful lot and isn’t immediately easy to make sense of.

Get Hands-On?

I reassessed, pulled the screens from the flow into inVision, put together a set of interactive prototypes and shared the links around.

Within seconds there was a simmering buzz of excitement and interest spreading through the office — people were testing the prototypes on their desktops, trying them on their phones, calling out their reactions and voicing their frustrations. From sales and marketing to devs, I was getting instant feedback. It was incredible!

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In essence, give people something they can manipulate and control and play with and you’re much more likely to get engagement. By providing something tangible, anything, even if it’s not polished (preferably not polished actually, so that it feels like a work in progress not yet set in stone), you’ll encourage reactions.

I was able to see, hear and feel what was working and what wasn’t — it was valuable learning and felt empowering. My attention was drawn to areas that I could immediately work on in order to improve my initial efforts.

Of course there’s a time and place for storytelling, sketches, flows, journey maps etc. but you have to gauge your audience. So I’ll add my voice to the many who advocate sharing tactile experiences by prototyping early and quickly and getting them out there into people’s hands.

Feeling Vulnerable at Work

Coming to terms with feeling out of my depth

In those times when you make a career leap, change tack or take on a new challenge there’s a transition period. A time of settling, learning, proving yourself and growing. It’s not necessarily a comfortable place to be and I’ve certainly experienced that.

Reflecting on how I’ve felt this acutely I realised that there are some things worth holding in mind…

• Listen to yourself

I have cycles or ‘seasons’ of productivity, which need to be followed by quieter periods of reflection and re-building. It’s a pattern that makes sense to me now, but is something that I’ve taken time to recognise in myself. I actively choose to give myself permission for downtime now, which goes against a tendency to keep going at full throttle until I physically can’t anymore.

• Listen to others

People are fascinating. There are so many stories to hear, experiences to learn from and knowledge to glean from those around us. Make time for people and really engage in what they choose to share.

• Ask questions

Ask and ask and ask until you get to the place that you want to get to. This one is hard for me, but I’m getting there. For fear of exposing myself as a fool or appearing stupid I’ve historically held back on posing questions, especially in a crowd. But in reality I’ve found that I’m usually not the only one who is in the dark wondering, so it’s better to just get it out. It’s okay to say “I don’t know that….but I’ll find it out”.

• Learning from mistakes is hard but fast

All the articles, books, podcasts and seminars in the world can’t make up for your first hand experience. They’ll set you off in the right direction and arm you with tools, but you have to try, fail and succeed yourself.

• Don’t worry about missing out

You don’t have to be signed up to every mailing list/group/meet ups/conference (etc etc etc…). Try some out, pick your favourites and take them in when you’re ready to digest the information they have to offer. It doesn’t have to become a never ending ‘to do’ list to stay on top of.

• Take inspiration from everywhere

Keep your eyes open and notice what spurs you on and gets you excited. Use those things to inform what you do. The things that naturally speak to your core will be the most valuable to you.

• Embrace what you don’t know

Knowing everything is impossible, you shouldn’t know everything, nobody expects you to know everything. But if something takes your interest then make some space for it if you have the capacity to. Or keep it in mind for when you can take it on board.

• Remember that everybody is learning

It can be easy to think that others have got it all sorted and to draw unhelpful comparisons, but we’re all feeling our way through life. My experiences of going to conferences has often resulted in feeling inspired but also utterly deflated, as I’ve come away feeling like everyone has got it nailed and I’m doing everything wrong. But this is only half the story, and there’s always more that goes on behind the shiny scenes of a slick presentation or case study.

• Be you — play to your skills and know where your vulnerabilities lie

Get to know yourself, notice what you do really well and give yourself credit for that. But be aware of what really challenges you and see if you can focus attention on strengthening those areas with a compassionate mindset.

• Stretch your comfort zone

Do things that frighten you (even if only a little bit). Fear has a habit of kicking in when it’s not genuinely needed (for me anyway), when I’m not really in any physical danger. So do things that take a little bit of courage on your own scale. It can start small:

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” (Brené Brown, Daring Greatly)

• Find some allies

Having people on ‘your side’ is a comfort at the very least. Whether it’s people to talk to, people who value what you do or people you enjoy collaborating with, these relationships help to affirm what we do and aid our growth. Reach out to people you meet, people online and take words from people who’ve been through similar experiences.

• Give yourself time

Some things just take time. Gathering experience and knowledge takes time. You will improve, but that process can’t be fast forwarded, so enjoy it as it unfolds. This is an area where I’ve given myself the most grief. My ambitions have exceeded my ability and continue to do so.

Ira Glass has spoken eloquently about ‘The Gap’: a level of taste and a desire to create incredible work that can’t be achieved when you’re starting out. It feels frustrating, humiliating and disappointing, but you just have to ride it out, keep crafting, adapting and learning.

“It’s only by actually going through a volume of work that you’re going to catch up and close that gap, and the work you’re making will be as good as your ambitions.” (Ira Glass, The Gap)

Similarly Steve ‘Buzz’ Pearce talks about a scale of Impact in creative roles, where you simply have to go through the process of learning your craft and dabbling with invention before you’re able to start making an impact.

Steve 'Buzz' Pearce’s Impact Scale

Allow yourself that time, with all the enthusiasm you want, and things might just fall into place much quicker than you’d imagined. But don’t be disheartened if it’s taking a while to get more comfortable.

And that’ll be when you want to find your next challenge…