Last week I had two different user experiences of the same location, and the juxtaposition gave me pause. A beautiful new Blue Bottle coffee had opened in an old San Francisco office building. Passing by, I admired its clean, fresh, and inviting appearance. A few days later, I went to my dentist appointment in that same building, and experienced what the Blue Bottle architects had created from a completely different perspective.
It is important that we understand and consider the full context in which our designs will live.
I’ve been going to the same dentist in that downtown office building for over 15 years. And the same lobby receptionist greets me with a welcoming nod every time.
Last week as I entered the building for my appointment, something felt different. It was loud, and there were people in the foyer. A lot of them. Patrons were spilling out of the new Blue Bottle Coffee into the marble-clad corridor in that unmistakable, ever-present Blue Bottle customer line.
I headed for the elevator, but then I turned back to talk to the receptionist because I realized his environment was now so radically different. He told me it was noisy all day long. “Cacophony” was the word he used. And he remarked that because of the noise, he no longer could read at his desk.
While Blue Bottle (the Company) and its customers are experiencing a lovely new location, there is one person whose life is changed — for the worse — as long as he wants to stay in his job. The receptionist’s experience is peripheral to the one that was designed, but it should have been considered. A line at Blue Bottle is a given; the architects could have situated that line outside, or could have acoustically dampened the sound in the foyer.
While we often assume what we are designing is contained within set boundaries, looking into the places where a design spills over is always warranted. It is important that we understand and consider the full context in which our designs will live.
I hope that I still get a nod next time I go see my dentist, but I fear my receptionist could be gone by then. Will an entry kiosk replace him? Only a computer could ignore the aural difficulties of his current work environment.