You may not think of yourself as a gamer, but you have likely heard of Pac-Man. Namco’s 1980 hit video game has appeared everywhere from Atari 2600 to Windows 10. Take a moment and picture the game in your mind’s eye. See its maze-like screen. Hear the telltale sound of “waka waka waka” as you maneuver Pac-Man through sharp turns and long straightaways. You avoid multi-colored ghosts. You seek flashy power-ups. You cheer for 10,000-point bonuses. Each game level consists of many tiny experiences connected along a circuitous path. Do you recall what Pac-Man eats along this path? Gold coins.
Pac-man was originally named Puck Man. The game’s American manufacturer, Midway Games, changed the name to Pac-Man to prevent vandalism to the game’s coin-operated cabinet. Cabinets were placed in video arcades and emblazoned with big, bright game logos. As you might imagine, a mischievous teen with a marker could easily change a “P” to an “F”.
If you found the anecdote sufficiently interesting, perhaps you will continue reading the remainder of this chapter. Likewise, gold coins can be used when designing all sorts of experiences.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi wrote in his book, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience , that flowing experiences immerse people in focused attention. Flow is “being in the zone.” We may feel flow when playing a game, searching the Internet, writing a story, running a marathon, or doing countless other activities. In a flow state, our attention is balanced between arousal and control. An activity provides enough of a challenge to maintain our interest without it overwhelming our abilities.
Video games challenge us to pursue extraordinary goals. Defend planets from attacking aliens. Beat waves of falling tetrominoes. Rescue princesses from barrel-throwing gorillas. But they also encourage us to complete smaller, interconnected activities. We avoid asteroids, rotate shapes, and leap over barrels. Each of these smaller activities fit within our available attention spans. Attempt to fit too many and our attention wanes. Somewhat like an Internet connection, our attention is throttled by an approximate 110-bits-per-second bandwidth.2 We use this bandwidth to leap from one small activity to the next. When these leaps become seamless, our entire experience flows. Thoughts clear and time shrinks.
Flow alters time. Long periods of time shorten. Video game players spend hours chasing high scores, building characters, and conquering worlds. Players may become hyperfocused, going without food or rest. In 2015, a Taiwanese man died during a three-day gaming binge at an Internet cafe.3 Perhaps more tellingly, his body sat motionless for over four hours before it was discovered, his death going completely unnoticed by his fellow players. Even the flow of casual games alters our perception of time. Pokémon Go players play for an average of 45 minutes per day.4 Thank goodness the duration is no longer, or else our sidewalks would be littered with mobile phones and former seekers of Pikachu.
Compared to games, business applications carry far less risk of hyperfocus. Excel crunches numbers. Slack manages messages. Photoshop edits images. Such applications help people do work. Some do it better than others. However, we rarely use such applications for the sake of pure enjoyment. Even a poorly designed business application can succeed in the marketplace if no alternatives exist. Yet, once users find a better way to accomplish their goals, lackluster applications become distant memories. Business applications must flow to survive. Once-dominant applications are overshadowed by their nimbler, more-focused, better flowing rivals. Consider the tectonic shifts in software, where huge companies such as the 15,000-person Adobe now find themselves competing with the likes of the 29-person Bohemian BV, the makers of Sketch. When users seek better experiences, companies suffer. Lotus. Netscape. Palm. Users will abandon companies without hesitation, discarding years of their design and development efforts with a mere tap of a Quit button.
We can learn much from games. For a game to be successful, players must choose it from among thousands of choices, dictated neither by necessity nor utility. Aliens won’t actually attack Earth. Tetrominoes won’t actually fall from the sky. Princesses won’t actually be stuck in their castles forever. Players invest their time, money, and energy for no better reason than to have an enjoyable experience. As creators of experiences, we should ask our users for nothing more.
Key Takeaways
Place gold coins within your work to maintain user attention.
Relationships with users depend a series of repeated, connected experiences.
In a flow state, our attention is balanced between arousal and control.
Flow states alter time; long periods of time shorten.
Business applications must flow to remain competitive.
Questions to Ask Yourself
Where within an experience do users get bored, distracted, or overwhelmed?
Where can I add smaller, easily achievable goals?
Do users maintain their interests and control within an experience?
Am I protecting users’ wellbeing and safety throughout an experience?
Do users have a more enjoyable alternative?