Alex Maughan adds some fresh perspective to the reasonably stale “Should designers learn to code?” debate. In The click of a well-made box he writes:

I don’t just believe that having development knowledge helps me and others get stuff done. I believe it makes me a better designer. It does this in the same way that being empathetic to both user and business need does; in the same way that aesthetic theory in visual design does; in the same way that content awareness does; in the same way that knowledge of cultural semiotics and iconography does; in the same way that all sorts of knowledge systems do. Many things can positively influence a designer, and many things ultimately do, just as many areas of knowledge can enhance the value and efficacy of on’s work in any discipline.

Spot on. The code aspect is just something we’ve recently been focusing on, but let’s not forget all the other things that can make us better designers. The key to becoming a better designer is not necessarily to learn to code (although it could be — as Alex argues for very effectively). The key to becoming a better designer is to keep learning something related to the craft, always. I love how Alex Charchar (too many Alexes!) describes the current shift to more knowledge-based design in The Principles of Style:

The importance that designers place in their skills is increasing at a staggering rate. We have always taken our craft seriously, but now we are treating it as the architects do. We are working hard to shake the shadow of the artiness and whimsy of our work and are showing that being creative is serious stuff. Some of us have nerded out over theory forever, but the dusty tomes are no longer propping up the wonky table of our profession. Things are getting increasingly balanced and level.

It happened so quickly and what was once hard to find knowledge is now base knowledge. A dependency upon style has been replaced with fundamentals. Theory has become methadone and sobriety looks damn pretty.

So let’s relax a bit about learning to code, and rather stress out about whether we’re learning something. And as Alex (Maughan this time) points out at the end of his essay, make sure it’s something you enjoy:

I also simply enjoy the hell out of it, no matter what value others end up placing on it.

I really enjoyed Josh Clark’s post on New York’s grid-based urban design, and how that relates to web design. In Grids, Design Guidelines, Broken Rules, and the Streets of New York City he writes:

That’s what visual designers get from the grid, too: efficiency, ease, and cheap builds. No question, a well-deployed grid also bestows order and visual harmony on a layout, and those are worthy goals (perhaps the best goals!) of good design. But when you look around at how we use grids on the web, one has the strong impression that we lean on them more for efficiency than aesthetic delight.

His post reminded me of Nishant Kothary’s Rap it in a Grid, which I’ve linked to before:

The reality is, a grid makes the act of solving design problems seem predictable, but says nothing for supplying the appropriate design solution. The grid is akin to the beat. But it’s hardly ever the flow, which is the true design solution.

I highly recommend both articles.

Joel Spolsky wrote a great post on some of the hidden costs of software development. From Software Inventory:

The “cost” of code inventory is huge. It might add up to six or twelve months of work that is stuck in the assembly line and not yet in customers’ hands. This could be the difference between having a cutting-edge product (iPhone) or constantly playing catchup (Windows Phone). It’s nearly impossible to get people to buy Windows Phones, even if the iPhone is only six months better. A lot of markets have network effects, and being first has winner-take-all implications. So getting rid of inventory in the development process can make or break a product.

He goes on to propose an alternative to Backlog Grooming — one of the central tenets of Agile development:

The trouble is that 90% of the things in the feature backlog will never get implemented, ever. So every minute you spent writing down, designing, thinking about, or discussing features that are never going to get implemented is just time wasted. When I hear about product teams that regularly have “backlog grooming” sessions, in which they carefully waste a tiny amount of time and mental energy every day or every week thinking about every single feature which will never be implemented, I want to poke my eyes out.

His proposed solution is quite radical from an Agile perspective, and I’m not sure how it would work on large redesign/replatform projects, but it’s certainly worth considering.

I got an interesting email from Surat Lozowick about my post on coffee houses and creativity. He pointed me to a piece he wrote called Working at the coffee shop: the right environment and the right distractions — a very interesting post that concludes with a great perspective on the issue:

Creativity does not exist in a vacuum; experiences, conversations, reading, writing, the constraints of time and the distractions of life are just as important as quiet moments of focus. And conveniently, the coffee shop is there to provide them.

He also links to Conor Friedersdorf’s Working Best at Coffee Shops, in which Conor presents four possible theories to answer the question, “Why are many telecommuters most efficient in noisy public places with lots of distractions?” It’s worth a read not just for his theories, but also for this goose bump-inducing Ernest Hemingway quote:

It was a pleasant cafe, warm and clean and friendly, and I hung up my old water-proof on the coat rack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a cafe au lait. The waiter brought it and I took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write.

It annoys and inspires me in equal parts when I see language like that — simple and elegant, yet dripping with meaning and emotion. So jealous.

Sam Grobart is not a UI designer — he’s a technology blogger for the New York Times. And in Good Features Demand Good Design he succinctly articulates one of the most difficult aspects of our jobs, and one of the cornerstones of Information Architecture:

But all the features in the world don’t mean a thing if you can’t present them in a welcoming, intuitive way. Take a look at that Smart TV interface: there are 26 places you can go, and that’s before you scroll to another page. The tangled mess of cables behind my TV may have disappeared, but ther’s a new source of confusion right on my screen. [“¦]

I’m no user-interface expert, but it would seem to me that you want to present viewers with a few, limited supercategories “” not everything all at once.

The day of the Information Architect might be over, but Information Architecture is alive and well.

I do most of my online reading through RSS, and I don’t think I’m alone. For the most part this is a good reading experience, but there are a few things publishers can do to make it even better. So if you publish a blog, here are three proposed guidelines for RSS feeds:

1. Have an RSS feed and make it easy to subscribe. Contrary to popular belief, Twitter did not kill RSS. It’s alive and well. So please don’t bury or hide the feed — it should be easy to find the link and subscribe. Also, do some work on your feed – use a service like Feedburner to customize it (and give you analytics on your subscribers).
2. Unless it’s central to your revenue model, don’t provide article excerpts only. I understand that there are subscription sites that require payment to get access to full RSS feeds — that’s a conscious business decision, so if it works, great! But for the rest of us, RSS excerpts are a bad idea. It places the burden on anyone following your shared items to click through to see the article, and that slows people down. As a general rule (with the above stated exception), please provide a full feed – you’ll grow your audience and eventually get those click-throughs because of it.
3. Remove the metadata from your feed URLs. If I do click through to an article to comment, share it on Twitter, etc., a URL like this looks bad and makes sharing harder to track: http://uxmag.com/design/debating-the-fundamentals?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+UXM
   +%28UX+Magazine%29.

   The stuff after the “?” is added by Feedburner so you can get detailed analytics on item link clicks. But unless you really want to see where your RSS feed clicks come from you don’t need this level of detail. All you need to know is the number of Item Views in your feed — the rest of your analytics can come from Google Analytics. It’s very easy to turn this tracking off to remove the metadata and make your URLs more friendly. In Feedburner, go to “Configure Stats” and uncheck the “Item link clicks” box. Here’s a screen shot:

In Luke Wroblewski’s new project Future Friendly, they discuss their thinking around universal content:

Well-structured content is now an essential part of art direction. Consider how it can flow into a variety of containers by being mindful of their constraints and capabilities. Be bold and explore new possibilities but know the future is likely to head in many directions.

If you publish content on the web it’s not future friendly to ignore and/or limit its use in RSS, which is one of the most important containers we have at our disposal.

Scott Berkun in The idiot theory of news:

Non-news, news without context, is easy to generate. It takes less skill as a journalist to write these stories. Often these stories are more popular than better written stories about important things. The popular news is not the best news. The popular anything is rarely the best anything. The way we see the world is shaped by what sells best as news, rather than what will give us a realistic perspective on the world and our place in it.

(link via @iamFinch)

In The distractions of social media, 1673 style Tom Standage provides an excerpt from his upcoming book “Cicero’s Web”. He points out that public officials and university authorities were very much against coffee houses, because they kept people from doing real work. According to one critic in the 1600s:

And the scholars are so greedy after news (which is none of their business) that they neglect all for it, and it is become very rare for any of them to go directly to his chamber after prayers without first doing his suit at the coffee-house, which is a vast loss of time grown out of a pure novelty. For who can apply close to a subject with his head full of the din of a coffee-house?

It’s that last sentence that I find particularly amusing. For who can apply close to a subject with his head full of the din of a coffee-house? It is precisely in the din (“A loud, unpleasant, and prolonged noise”) of coffee houses that I find I do my best work. In fact, coffee houses have a long history of being spaces where creativity tends to thrive. For example, in Claudia Roden’s Coffee, she notes:

Catering equally for the working and the leisured classes, [coffee houses] have tended to be democratic in character. As a French periodical of the 1850s entitled Le Café pointed out in its slogan: “The salon stood for privilege, the café stands for equality.” Coffee has been called the intellectual drink of democracy. In times of upheaval, coffee houses became revolutionary centers, encouraging the interchange of ideas and usually generating liberal and radical opinion. It has been said that the French Revolution was fomented in coffee-house meetings, and the Café Foy was the starting point of its mob spirit.

Coffee houses have been linked to intellectual activities for a long time:

The French coffee shop ennobled the ways of its frequenters by inaugurating a reign of temperance and luring people away from the cabaret. Today the institution is still one where everything is discussed and where people sharpen their wits in debate.

The influence of coffee houses was enormous on the political, social, literary, and commercial life of the times. They were the stage for political debate, fringe centers of education and the origin of certain newspapers. Insurance houses, merchant banks, and the stock exchange began in coffee houses.

There is just something about coffee shops that helps me focus. It’s the ambient noise. It’s the knowledge that I’m not alone, that there are people around me whose diverse lives are happening in the background. It’s the constant, nagging thought that some of those people might be the audience for what I’m making. It’s like working inside a contextual inquiry all the time.

Also, coffee is pretty great.