Desire paths: How UI designers can learn from the ways we walk around
UX in the real world
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about desire paths. You know: those little channels of dirt carved into the grass by hundreds, thousands, of repeated footsteps…
A street(path) named desire
In Edinburgh, I’m lucky enough to have a number of public footpaths and cycle paths connecting various parts of the city. To get to my local supermarket, I can take one of these handy routes nearly all the way, until I reach a point where the path runs parallel to the — at which point I have to (guiltily) take a tiny, muddy desire path through a gap in the hedge, to then cross through the car park and road, before reaching the main entrance.
My favourite example of a desire path - which I found on the wonderful subreddit r/desirepath - comes from Ohio State University. The story goes that, back in 1914, University Architect Joseph N. Bradford waited patiently for winter before using a hot air balloon to get a bird’s eye view of the intricate web of criss-crossing trails that students had carved in the snow. Their findings were then used in the configuration of the more formal network of paved walkways.
The bigger picture
Whether big or small, desire paths are clear examples of user-generated urbanism — a term I discovered the other day when watching a video discussing the potential future of urban planning.
Rather than a top-down model - in which experts decide how the urban landscape should be laid out - user-generated urbanism allows the city’s residents to forge their own infrastructure by simply going about their lives. In Copenhagen or Amsterdam, for example, that has historically involved a re-prioritisation towards cyclists and pedestrians.
It’s user-centred design in action.
One of the key positives that can be drawn from the pandemic is the potential for temporary street furniture to be made permanent. The sudden appearance of outdoor seating throughout the UK last summer – transforming even the most lifeless streets into bustling European boulevards – was a testament to the possibilities that a revolution in urban planning could have on the country.
Whether it’s Barcelona’s superilla, Edinburgh’s George Street, or London’s Oxford Street (admittedly, this last one is just me being overly optimistic), the potential for re-pedestrianisation is captivating — surely even to the grumpiest of car drivers.
En route
Take Paris’ Champs-Élysées, for example. The architectural research agency, PCA-STREAM, approached the task by first acknowledging that this famous avenue was now “unloved by Parisians” due to “overtourism, traffic, pollution, overconsumption, impervious surfaces” and so on.
Their plan involves turning the Étoile intersection at the Arc de Triomphe (reminiscent of Ohio State University) into a tourist-friendly public plaza and gradually replacing traffic lanes with cycling and pedestrian paths, eventually reducing the space for vehicles in half.
This is a wonderful example of Nudge Theory being applied to urban planning. As Imperial College London explains:
“Nudge Theory is based upon the idea that, by shaping the environment […], one can influence the likelihood that one option is chosen over another by individuals.”
By slowly making it harder for motorists to use the road (and, conversely, by making it easier for cyclists and walkers), the council will gently encourage the use of public transport or healthier alternatives when residents journey into the city centre. In the same way, it’s great to see this concept being applied to the UK Highway Code, with pedestrians being put first.
With an estimated 19.1 million tourists visiting in 2019, Paris is one of the most popular cities in the world, so there are also potential financial benefits to making the area more pedestrian-friendly.
The impact on U and I
As a UI Designer, I often find myself infuriated by interruptions and barriers in technical processes, so I suppose it’s no surprise that I apply the same high standards to the physical world too.
Obviously it’s harder for a user to find a shortcut in an app compared to in real life. Instead, it’s the role of user research is to uncover users’ pain points and offer new solutions to improve efficiency. In other words, it’s our job to create these desire paths ourselves, based on user feedback.
About a month ago, I started tracking my work hours using Toggl Track as I was curious to see how my workload was split between tasks. It’s not too tricky to add in a new entry, especially with the predictive options, but it takes 2–3 clicks and some typing each time.
However, after a week of use, I was delighted to see “Suggestions” pop up at the top of the app, featuring a trio of my most common tasks and quick Play buttons to seamlessly swap between them:
Nifty shortcuts like this might be simple, but they can really elevate the user experience of a product, adding value above-and-beyond the MVP.
TL;DR
Desire paths - shortcuts carved into grass by repeated footsteps - and user-generated urbanism - urban planning that involves local people - are examples of user-centred design in the physical world, and these concepts should shape the way we design with the digital world.
