Plotting the experience curve

Lie detectors, Google Earth and Boom-wowowow-BOOM!

A big part of show business is the emotional curve our audience go through while experiencing our show. I've argued before that customer experiences could learn much from this - a good emotional curve is deeply satisfying and it can be argued that the way we link the parts of an experience is more important than the quality of the parts themselves.

An extremely cunning chap called Christian Nold has come up with a way to measure people's emotional state in time and space. He calls it Biomapping. Basically, you strap a wee box of tricks to your finger and wander around enjoying yourself. The box of tricks contains GPS and another clever device (related to a lie detector) that measures your level of emotional excitement. Christian pushes the data through a set of programs and we have a map showing how you felt, and where. (See the picture above).

Pure genius.

Christian's work so far has been somewhere between an art project and a community initiative, but I am not the first to spot the customer experience possibilities. Imagine people wearing these brilliant gadgets at Disneyland, or the shopping mall, or your location - and what that could tell you about positioning your highlights and redesigning your experience curve...

(Right now the spatial resolution of GPS might make this set-up less than ideal for smaller sites, but you could get around that problem with a stopwatch, a high stool and a pencil.)

The really cool bit it, apparently Christian is willing to sell his gadgets to ordinary mortals like you and me. I think you should contact him and buy one.

Today.

I think I will.

.

Lies, damned lies and experience design...

Truth, authenticity and show business

Right, there are two things I have to set straight. Here goes.

1. Experience design is not about pretending to be something you are not.

When I talk to people about experience design, they often get a funny look in their eyes. "Hmm," they seem to say, "that sounds awfully fake".

Experience design (or service design) is indeed about creating memorable experiences that our customers will appreciate. To do this, we engage our customers' senses to move their emotions. That makes it a whole lot like show business - so... we can brazenly steal a lot of tools and techniques from theatre and film. Lighting, costume, staging, scripts and even character work can all play a part.

This does not mean pretending to be something you are not. It means getting better at showing what you are.

This is true in "real" showbiz too. A brilliant actor like Sir Anthony Hopkins is not a dissembler. He does not pretend, he reveals, showing parts of himself that we would not usually see. Shakespeare understood this, and all his characters - even the baddest of the bad - speak the truth to the audience. And for good reason: we care about what people really are, not what they pretend to be. In experience design, we look for ways to throw the spotlight on our best work, to reveal values that the customer might otherwise have missed. But we must remain authentic. If we fake anything, the customer will know. And he will not forgive.


2. Experience design is not about making people laugh.

Let's get back to our sceptical prospective customer. Giving me a steely look, he says (probably with a Cherman accent), "Customer emotion? Ve are a serious business! Laughter vould be out of place."

I admit it, I'm a comedian. I will do pretty much anything for a cheap laugh - in fact, I just did. And I draw a lot of my experience design tools from the world of comedy. So sue me.

What this means is that many of the service design success stories that appeal to me are ones that speak to my sense of fun. I love the Geek Squad, for example. I think turning a car factory into a theme park is a scream. But I do not think that laughter or even "fun" is an essential part of experience design. No, the essential bit is emotion.

Let's take an extreme example - an undertaker. Gags would usually be out of place in that trade, but sharing emotion - stories, reminiscences, sadness, love - is very much part of the business. A good funeral director (director! Hah!) will create an experience where people are able to see their grief as part of a more complex set of feelings, and share in celebrating a life.

No, the emotions we need in experience design can be of every hue - pleasure, serenity, shock, exhilaration, awe, contentment, Gemütlichkeit, pathos... you name it. Fun is one option, but the big picture is about gut feelings, not belly laughs.

Anticipation

Expectation and experience design

Experienceologist Stephanie Weaver gamely challenged me to write a few words about the extra "Anticipation" phase I suggested for her terrific 8 Step programme.

There is a time between knowing or deciding something will happen, and the time when the event actually starts. It is the time of expectation, or anticipation, and can take many powerful forms - the smell of my favourite coffee stand before I turn the streetcorner; the packages under the Christmas tree; the first sparkling view of the distant ocean.

Now, in her 8 Steps, Stephanie would probably add some of these to the "Invitation" and "Welcome" phases. In a way she would be right, but there is a fundamental qualitative difference. An invitation has not yet been accepted, and a welcome is participatory, but in the anticipation step I have already made my decision - yet I have no way to interact with the experience that I am anticipating.

Psychologically, this is crucial - as this inability to shape what will happen frees my imagination and makes both positive and negative emotions more powerful.

Let's look for an example on the unpleasant side of anticipation. What about the feelings of apprehension or dread that a dental appointment can cause in many of us? In reality, a visit to the ChopperDoc is seldom more than uncomfortable - yet in our imagination we expect the Spanish Inquisition. It is the absence of a reality check which lets us torture ourselves like this.

In experience design, the anticipation phase should not be left out of your thinking. Firstly, in an experience with a long positive anticipation phase (long drive to Wallyworld, anyone?) the first "Boom!" of your welcome will act not as an attention-getter, but as a kind of release. This is very noticeable in kid's experiences - thus the tears just after arrival at Disney - or highly emotional adult ones. In fact, that's why so many grooms burst into tears when their bride steps into the church. In such cases, you will need to offer a recovery opportunity (and restrooms!) sooner than you might think.

Secondly, a well managed anticipation phase will boost the start of the headline experience itself. Why else have warm-up acts or MCs at rock concerts, TV studios and stand-up gigs.? If they are good, the audience will be not just warmed up, but at fever pitch when the headliner explodes into the light.

Anticipatory aspects of experience design can take many shapes or forms. With a long lead-in time (perhaps for a holiday or cultural event), what about postcards, sound clips or videos sent in advance? For an educational experience, how about a quiz to complete at home? For a "walk-in" retail experience a great smell (see my last post) is very powerful, but a lot can be done with sound (especially music), signage or a "wienie", like Disney's towering castles. If your experience has a start time, consider a countdown of some kind. And at the simplest level, we should never underestimate the power of an ordinary entrance ticket presented in a truly beautiful package.

However you handle it - and whether you call it part of the welcome phase or not - don't forget the huge emotional potential that lies in the helplessness of anticipation.

(More on this subject and it's neurology here.)

Let the children play...

How much help do we need to have fun?

You know how you will drive for hours to see the latest hotspot, but never check out the attractions just next door? Well, for years I have driven past signs to the Playmobil Funpark in Zirndorf near Nuremberg. Some friends from far-away told me they wanted to see it so I went along for the ride.

Now Playmobil is an important local firm here (they sponsor one of the local soccer stadia), but they are, well, local. Frankly, I was expecting something well-meant but a bit parochial and tacky. How wrong I was.

The FunPark turned out to be a hit. For a very low entry price we stepped into a well designed world which was built to the highest quality standards and utterly engaging - the parents were having as much fun as the kids. Yes, I too was climbing the treehouse, boarding the (full-size) pirate ship, paddling my raft around the lake and pushing every button I could find in the mirrored labyrinth of light. Boy, I wish I was seven.

And the best bit? There were a few Playmobil folk here and there if you needed them, but no costumed "characters", no "play leaders" or whatever. And no rides. Just acres and acres of (giant sized) toys and thousands of kids, big and small, having a blast. Perfect.

You know, most experiences seem to think we need help to play. Playmobil proved different. But it got me thinking... is it because their customers are kids, or is it because the experience is so well - and so simply - designed?