Discoverability in Everyday Life
I came across this pretty interesting set up in the building of my doctor’s office. Here’s a photo of the elevator doors in the lobby of the ninth floor:
Notice that there are no up and down buttons, which, in my experience, are always located halfway-up the door, about a foot or two to the side. These doors had no buttons on the side of them, and just looking at them, there are no obvious controls. How the heck am I supposed to get down?!? If you guessed retinal scan, secret hidden wall panel revealing control console, or stairs, you’re wrong. That black corner jutting out of the right side of the photo is actually a free-standing podium, which sprouts out of the middle of the elevator lobby:
The podium is pretty dramatic looking, and most of the face is a dark reflective black glass. The text on it is pretty sparse; it’s difficult to read here but it says “Lake Shore Place” and has a directory of I believe the different offices in the building (maybe just on that floor?). And on the side of this behemoth … completely undiscoverable … are the up and down elevator buttons!
What an awful idea to couple directory information with the elevator controls. Unless you’re on the ground floor (and even then, not so much if you know where you’re going), why would you ever think to look at the directory in order to find the elevator controls?!? Everyone knows how to get back down to the lobby, and the chances you’re going from one floor to another are slim. This is a great example of a horrible coupling between input and output of completely unrelated tasks. I really can’t think of the value of having this on a non-ground floor, unless there’s some kind of concierge service who presses the button for you? C’mon … seriously? How lazy can we be?!?
I eventually made it downstairs several hours after my doctor appointment, famished, and near-crazed, when the nighttime cleaning person starting polishing the obelisk and a glint of light drew my attention to the elevator buttons ….
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