I admit that I use Facebook. I’m not sure if this makes me a pre-teen, an old fart, or something sad and loserish in between. But I use it, and it’s a really easy way to stay in touch with friends who for the past 10 years have previously been unable to handle the rigors of email communication.
But as the Facebook user base has swollen from the relatively ghost town setting of 2005 when I signed up, so has the populous power of the community. Memes spread voraciously like the black plague, trends come and go in a matter of days. It serves to show that Facebook is as close to a living, breathing online social community that is possible. Which is the setting of the problem.
Last week, Zuckerberg and company did something so heinous, so unthinkable that millions of people have revolted. No, it wasn’t the bizarre privacy policy revamp (that should have caused more of a stir than it actually did). Nope. The clamor and commotion of the past week has been over a redesigned interface, the second in the past year in fact. If you can get past the gaul of such a move, I implore you to follow along.
Let’s get real. When should a company apologize to it’s users? In my view, it’s:
- If they fail to deliver on a contractual agreement
- If they fail to produce adequate services for the monetary payment from customers
- When a decision is made that threatens the well-being of customers
- When they abuse their power and use deception to manipulate customers past a point previously agreed upon at the point of contract
We’re not talking about car companies abolishing seat belts to save cost or knife manufacturers deciding to push machetes to children to boost sales. Those are bad decisions to be sure. What we’re talking about is a company that offers a free service that people willingly sign up for, deciding to use their own venture capital money to pay professional designers to try and improve this free service. Free. The service costs nothing to the bizillions of people who spend hours on end logged in and posting wall comments.
People hate change. The goal of design is to make an experience so wonderful that structure and form fade into the background for every user. Both of these are immutable truths. Yet based on the reactions of people, with all their status-ranting, poll-creating and protest-group-forming, you would think that Facebook had suddenly decided to force every user to smoke unfiltered cigarettes. In reality, they probably used an incredible set of Analytics data to guide a professional redesign. These are two very different things. Yet if measured by crowd reaction, one would have to wonder.
So is the redesign terrible? No. Does it force users to rediscover where previously familiar links have gone? Perhaps. But there are a host of new features that were not there before that adds value to whatever experience it is that Facebook offers, which is what a redesign/refresh should be (really this was a refresh).
So everyone just stop bitching about someone having shifted your couch. That familiar living room is still in tact. Furniture was not thrown out or set on fire. You’ve lost nothing. Someone just tried to make your sitting experience a bit more comfortable. Give it a try before you shout from your soapbox. You might find that your TV has less glare, or some other unseen benefit that you might miss by being so riled-up.
And besides, it’s just a website.