Against all odds printed books thrive

The Art of Looking Sideways by Alan Fletcher

When Amazon introduced the Kindle e-reader in 2007 it looked like the writing was on the wall for printed books.

Just as the iPod had decimated CD sales when launched by Apple six years earlier, it looked certain that the Kindle would do the same to physical book sales.

All the signs were there. How could bulky paper books possibly compete with a lightweight device that could store a whole bookcase?

And the Kindle was a huge success. Sales of e-books grew from near zero to around a third of all book sales in just a few years. Book publishers were convinced this trend would continue. Bookshops, already under pressure from the sale of physical books online, started to close in greater numbers, including many much loved independent stores.

But now something strange is happening. E-book sales have flatlined. Physical book sales are growing again. It turns out the printed book, with a history stretching back many hundreds of years, is a resilient old thing.

Some people have drawn parallels with the resurgence of vinyl records, which are growing in sales too. But this is from a very low base, and still accounts for only 3% of the UK music market. It is also not happening at the expense of music streaming, which continues to explode in popularity.

And there is another difference. Once music is playing it is in the air. A book, however, is something that you hold in your hands. Paper is tactile. It has weight.

Books are often beautifully made, from the choice of paper stock and binding to the typography and graphics. A book can be something you admire as an object before you have read a single word.

And when you do start to read there are no distractions. No internet browser or Facebook app.

Like most children my two young sons would probably spend all day every day playing on an iPad if only they were allowed, and yet surprisingly they have never once asked to swap a bedtime story in print for one on a screen.

For all these reasons and more it felt good to give and receive a bunch of books this Christmas.

Read the original article here.


Against all odds printed books thrive

Pablo Picasso and the Locksmiths’ Paradox


One warm summer’s day, or so the story goes, Pablo Picasso was sitting quietly in a park when a woman recognised the famous artist, approached him, and insisted he sketch her likeness.

With a smile Picasso is said to have reached for his sketchpad and created her portrait with a single stroke of his pencil.

Taking the paper in her hands the woman expressed astonishment at how he had captured her very essence perfectly. And then she enquired as to the price.

“Five thousand francs,” Picasso replied.

“Why, that’s absurd!” the woman exclaimed. “It took you only seconds to create my portrait.”

“On the contrary,” Picasso replied. “It took my entire life.”

I was reminded of this story after reading about a conversation between the writer Dan Ariely and a locksmith.

The locksmith told Ariely that things had been much simpler at the start of his career.

Back then when people hired him he was inexperienced and took a long time. Sometimes he even broke their lock in the process. But his customers were always grateful for his strenuous efforts, and did not mind paying him for his hard work.

The locksmith found to his surprise that as he gained experience, and discovered how to open almost any lock quickly and without damage, his customers started to resent paying his fees.

How, they asked incredulously, could something that took so little time and apparent effort cost so much?

The locksmiths’ paradox is a problem for many companies. If a customer considers only the length of time a task takes, and not the time invested in learning the skills that make it possible, or the benefit of the end result, they may object to paying very much for the work.

The way for companies to avoid falling into this trap is to communicate their true value to the customer, above and beyond their basic competence.

Successful locksmiths do not sell their ability to quickly open doors, that should be a given, instead they sell their responsiveness and trustworthiness, and their ability to save you from the uncertainty of being locked out on a cold winter’s night.

Read the original article here.


Pablo Picasso and the Locksmiths’ Paradox

I can see why you might feel that way


Many of us will give or receive an Apple product this Christmas, and that might involve a trip to the Apple Store. From the store design to the customer service, there is no shopping experience quite like it. When people write books or give presentations about retail they almost always use Apple as an example of how to do it well.

Nothing in the Apple Store happens by accident. From the smiling person greeting you at the door to the folks behind the Genius Bar in blue t-shirts, everything is meticulously planned down to the finest detail. And that includes the language Apple employees use.

A few years ago a copy of the Apple Store training manual was leaked to the technology news website Gizmodo and it makes for revealing reading. The manual outlines the psychological techniques Apple staff are taught to use when dealing with customers.

If you describe a problem you are experiencing with your iPhone to an Apple employee the issue will often be repeated back to you using different, more positive phrasing.

Certain words are banned entirely. For example, a computer does not “crash”, it just “does not respond.” A laptop never runs “hot”, at most it is “warm.”

Emphasised throughout is an instruction to use empathy whenever possible – for employees to put themselves in customers’ shoes.

If a customer says a MacBook is too expensive, a suggested reply employees might use is, “I can see how you’d feel this way. I felt the price was a little high, but I found it’s a real value because of all the built-in software capabilities.” Complain about almost anything and the staff will most likely reply with a variation of, “I can see why you might feel that way,” before reframing the conversation.

Reading these approved responses I realise I’ve seen them somewhere else – in a chapter from a parenting manual on how to defuse toddler tantrums.

In many ways this is classic sales training. Displaying empathy is one of the first tactics all salespeople are taught. The only difference with Apple is they go so far with it.

But it works. Apple has the highest sales per square foot of any major retailer in the world.

Read the original article here.


I can see why you might feel that way

Constraints and creativity


Most bands record their first album with a tight budget for studio time and often no budget at all for extras such as session musicians and guest producers. The instruments they record with are the ones they already own, or ones they beg, steal or borrow. And yet some of the greatest albums ever made were recorded this way. There is an edge to them. You cannot stop listening.

Constraints can be good for creativity. Faced with limitations people improvise, hack and work through problems. If there are fewer choices we are forced to use what we have. And through this process magic can happen.

Contrast that with the choices available to a band that has already had some success. Now there is queue of collaborators, gifted equipment, and endless time to record and to tweak. Would it sound better with another take? More overdubs? Maybe some strings? And so it goes.

The lean sound becomes bloated. The release date gets pushed back. Creative paralysis kicks in. When the album finally comes out there is so much more to it than the first one, and yet something is missing. The infamous second album syndrome has struck again.

This problem is not unique to bands. Many of us wrestle with something similar every day. Technology has unlocked an incredible abundance of opportunity. Sit down in front of your computer or unlock your phone and there is an almost infinite choice about what to do next. It can be overwhelming.

And that is why introducing artificial constraints can be so powerful. Some of the most successful products do less than their competitors, but do more for us as a result.

Twitter limits our messages to 140 characters, and so we are forced to be more concise. Instagram allows us to add only one photo at a time, and so we curate a better feed. Fixed gear bikes allow us to enjoy the simplicity of cycling, without obsessing over gear ratios.

I notice something similar when I watch my two young sons playing. Given too many toys at once and they never seem to settle into a game. Hand them a few pieces of Lego and they can create a whole universe.

Read the original article here.


Constraints and creativity

Nuance, not novelty, delivers the best user experience


Before I joined Hotfoot Design as a partner I travelled to London every week for business.

As my meetings were often arranged at short notice I had to book a hotel at the last minute.

This meant I got to stay at some really plush places all over central London at a discount, as even premium and boutique hotels would rather their rooms be occupied at a much reduced rate than not at all.

And those rooms would often be fantastic, with great views, and lots of space. But one thing that drove me to distraction was the technology, as it was often so unnecessarily complex.

Setting the air-con meant deciphering a series of abstract symbols to escape an arctic breeze. Using the shower required careful analysis of multiple settings to avoid being scalded. And forget about watching TV – the minimalist remote controls gave no clue about how to change the channels.

In one room even switching the lights on became an absurd challenge, as it required dealing with a central touch screen “command centre” with layers of menus to select what I wanted to do.

I longed for a simple button to push, dial to turn, or switch to flick. I was usually staying for just a night or two. I had no desire to study an instruction manual to accomplish what ought to be a simple task.

I am no technophobe. In fact I love technology, but only when the execution is good and the context is appropriate.

These hotels had fallen into the trap of thinking they had to differentiate themselves from their budget competitors with technological novelties. Perhaps they feared a humble light switch would not be impressive enough for their discerning guests.

The most satisfying objects we interact with every day are usually not innovations but iterations of tried and tested products.

It is nuance, not novelty, that most often creates a good user experience.

See the original article here.


Nuance, not novelty, delivers the best user experience

One brick at a time


Most big brands do not do politics and perhaps that is not surprising.

As much as they may want to be seen to be doing the right thing, and win hearts and minds in the process, they usually want to avoid alienating potential customers too.

And companies are made up of a diverse range of individuals with differing opinions and outlooks. It can be hard for a brand to get all its stakeholders behind a common cause.

So when brands do get involved with campaigns they usually choose great causes that are non-controversial. Pampers donates vaccines to Unicef. The Football League is in partnership with Prostate Cancer UK. At a local level we at Hotfoot Design support Neuro Dropin in Lancaster with pro bono design, digital and marketing support.

While Product Red has raised $150 million to date for HIV and Aids through tie-ins with companies like Nike, Coca-Cola and Apple, this only happened after a huge public awareness campaign and a number of high profile and much loved celebrities had died of the condition during the 1980s and 90s.

Then there is the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, which has worked to tackle poverty and inequality at an almost unimaginable scale, backed with an endowment of over $40 billion. It is amazing to think that Microsoft has indirectly redistributed wealth from global corporations to the poor and disadvantaged through the sale of software licences – and how few people realised it at the time.

And now Lego, the world’s biggest toy company, has supported a pressure group called Stop Funding Hate, which opposes the tabloid newspaper tendency to stir up division, with the surprising news that they would not engage in any commercial partnerships with the Daily Mail for the foreseeable future.

Cynics might question the timing of this announcement, coming as it does just before the Christmas buying bonanza, when being in the news can help boost sales.

But the huge public support for Lego’s stance suggests brands could be a little braver, and engage with important causes in the wider world a little more.

See the original article here.


One brick at a time

The day Sweden switched sides


I can just about remember being a small child in front of the television when I first realised that people drove on the other side of the road in America.

As I watched the A-Team van tearing up the highway I suddenly noticed they were driving on the right, and that the steering wheel was over on the left.

It was one of those moments that made me realise these things do not just happen by accident. At some point decisions have to be made. Systems have to be designed.

Over the years, as I discovered that in most places they drove on the right, I idly wondered whether we would ever change. It seemed crazy that we needed to get cars made especially for us, and that we had to remember which side of the road to drive on when we hopped across the channel.

But I soon realised that was never going to happen. Imagine the expense and the chaos. No country would ever make such a huge change. Except, of course, they did.

The date was the 3 September 1967, and the country was Sweden. On what became known as H-Day, short for Högertrafikomläggningen (which literally means “the right-hand traffic diversion”), millions of Swedes stopped driving on the left and started driving on the right.

They had a good reason to make the change. Their immediate neighbours in Denmark, Norway and Finland all drove on the right, and that led to many accidents on both sides of the border. Most Swedes drove left-hand drive vehicles too, making overtaking dangerous.

So in the years leading up to the change the Swedish government commissioned TV and radio ads. They published leaflets, produced stickers and placed notices on milk cartons. And they bought 1,000 new buses and retrofitted another 8,000 with right-side doors.

When H-Day finally arrived traffic was kept off the roads in the morning as all the road signs were changed around. And then, in the afternoon, people started driving again and it was almost as if it had always been that way. The A-Team would have felt right at home.

See the original article here.


The day Sweden switched sides