Just now, I used up the last of the toilet paper.

My natural inclination is to leave it as is, because I'm lazy. "Bhai will change it when he needs it."

But wait

What if I extend my sense of self to include Bhai? When Bhai is sitting here on the toilet, will it not be a chore for him to replace the toilet paper himself?

Empathy, right? I should take care of it. Plus, laziness isn't good for me.

But wait

If I do replace it myself, what am I actually saving him from? A slight inconvenience?

Am I simply giving him the gift of laziness, the same laziness that I am seeking to overcome by choosing to replace the toilet paper?

How is that a gift at all?

Bhai has been frustrated with his job. He's struggling with the roboticity of his routine. He wants to feel empowered, independent, and capable - the opposite of lazy. I want that for him too.

I would love that for him.

Instead of feeding into his potential to be passive, even if just a little bit, maybe I should leave the empty roll as is?

Driven by laziness, my inaction results in the empty roll. Driven by love, my action results in the empty roll.

But wait

Am I assuming too much? Isn't it wrong for me to act from my own assumptions?

Well, at the core of it all, we always act from our own assumptions. In fact, human-centered design is one, big, giant assumption. Not the term itself, but what it has come to mean.

Today, human-centered design is:
pleasure-centered design.
convenience-centered design.
delight-centered design.

Don Norman, in his book The Design of Everyday Things, defines human-centered design as

"... a design philosophy. It means starting with a good understanding of people and the needs that the design is intended to meet. This understanding comes about primarily through observation, for people themselves are often unaware of their true needs"

He's right. We really are unaware of our true needs.

Don Norman goes on to say things like:

"Great designers produce pleasurable experiences"

"This is where the most satisfaction can arise"

"The collaboration of person and device feels wonderful"

Pleasurable, satisfying, feeling wonderful

Hm. Something doesn't feel right about this. The same can be said for cocaine, can't it? We wouldn't lace every product with a sprinkle of it.

The goal is the same - to focus on humanity's needs. But is pleasure really our core need? I mean, it could be in some situations, but I think limiting human-centered design to something so superficial is tearing people apart as much as it's bringing them together.

Literally.

I recently spoke to a friend who told me that his family doesn't eat dinner together on the dining table anymore because his parents are too absorbed in Facebook.

Having the ability to craft their social identities and broadcast their perfect selves around the world brings them such a sense of pleasure that they'd rather focus on that than on sitting together and having loving conversations with each other as a family. Oh, and they can do it on their portable, super-convenient, instantly accessible iPads too!

It's not his parents' fault. The holes in our hearts is a given - so designing something that enables such a thing to happen is, at least in some ways, exploitive, ignorant, and selfish, isn't it?

There are a million good things that have come about from our current processes, but it can be better.

Human-centered design, as it is today, needs to be scrutinized.

It's of noble intent, but it can be unintentionally egotistical, superficial, dogmatic, mindless, and toxic.

And you know what else?

It doesn't account for dogs! Do we not care about dogs? Seriously? At the very least, the title should be changed.

What about dog-centered design? Cat-centered design. Environment-centered design. Goodness centered design.

love-centered design

I don't understand the problem in depth enough, but I'm gonna start solutioning anyway. The following ideas are ridiculous - I know - but look at the potential of a love-centered approach to design:

In physical reality, you can't control if someone sees you from an unflattering angle. You can't control if someone gives you a little nudge and you lose your balance. You can't always prevent the stutter in your voice. But on Facebook, you can be everything you want to be. This level of control not only encourages us to indulge in unhealthy fantasies of ourselves, but also leads to those around us forming toxic comparisons.

So, what if Facebook was designed in a way in which you could be vulnerable to the people around you? What if your profile picture was not your choice, but instead the photo that gets the most "This picture captures your essence" button presses from your friends?

Hm, now let's try a love-centered approach to ... cars!

Millions of people die from car accidents. In order to combat these, we decrease the speed limits, add speed bumps, and design better seat belts, sturdier shells, and quicker airbags in our cars. And yet, people still get into wrecks, lose their loved ones, and have to endure long periods of grief and suffering just because of the senseless actions of a stranger on the road.

What if, instead of only focusing on defensive capabilities, we designed a car with a huge display on the rear windshield that broadcasts a slideshow of photos of yourself, your hobbies, and your loved ones? So that instead of someone thinking "Ugh that guy is so fucking slow" and aggressively tailgating you, they instead think "He's a human just like me. Maybe I should slow down. Oh look, he said he's getting hungry on his display. I am too. Maybe I'll ping him and we can grab a bite at the next exit together and talk about our love of anime!"

What if?

What if you
Interview with love.
Observe with love.
Prototype with love.
Iterate with love.
Code with love.
User test with love.
Design with love.

Design for love,
and design to bring love.

Because you care.
Because you want to give the world what it needs, not what it wants. And what it needs is love. It's cheesy, but it's true right??

What would happen?

I guess it's time for my shower.

It probably doesn't matter, but I'm going to leave that toilet paper roll empty, just in case.

(I hope he doesn't get mad at me)