Читать книгу Engaged - Amy Bucher - Страница 47

Imagine that you want to lose weight and you google “best weight loss apps.” The top result is for a program you’ve never heard of: Dr. Nick’s Magic Diet. Dr. Nick looks a little sketchy, but he promises results in one simple step. You’re in.

You fill out all of the information to enroll in Dr. Nick’s Magic Diet: your birthdate, your address, your height and weight, your fitness goals, your health background, and finally, your credit card number. At each step along the way, the program encourages you: “You’re almost there! Just a few more steps, and you’ll receive the one simple step you need to lose weight!”

Finally, you reach the end of the sign-up and there’s a big shiny button on the screen that says “Dr. Nick’s One Simple Step.” You are so excited. Here it is, the one simple secret to achieving the body you’ve dreamed of! You click, and the screen slowly fades to reveal the step:

You’ve taken the one simple step to weight loss by joining Dr. Nick’s Magic Diet. Now we’ll get started on changing your diet, getting you into an exercise program, and looking at other habits you can change.

Wait a minute. You were promised one simple step, and now it turns out that there are really something like sixteen not-so-simple steps hiding behind the curtain. You’re angry. This program is a joke. How can you get your money back?

This example is fictional, but the general principle is surprisingly common in digital products. Designers aren’t always clear up front with users what they’re committing to by enrolling in a program or using a product. That means their users don’t have the opportunity to weigh the pros and cons of participating. Users can’t make an informed decision about whether they’re willing to put up with the drawbacks to gain the advantages of the product. And that means they’re less likely to stick with it.