As UX designers, we try to anticipate the edge cases—what might a user do and how can we ensure they don’t hit any blockers. But beyond the confines of the products we build, we must also remember to anticipate the unintended consequences. How might this product or feature affect the user emotionally? Are we creating bad habits? Are we fomenting rage in pursuit of engagement?

Martin Tomitsch and Steve Baty write in DOC, suggesting some frameworks to anticipate the unpredictable:

Chaos theory describes the observation that even tiny perturbations like the flutter of a butterfly can lead to dramatic, non-linear effects elsewhere over time. Seemingly small changes or decisions that we make as designers can have significant and often unforeseen consequences.

As designers, we can’t directly control the chain of reactions that will follow an action. Reactions are difficult to predict, as they occur depending on factors beyond our direct control.

But by using tools like systems maps, the impact ripple canvas, and iceberg visuals, we can take potential reactions out of the unpredictable pile and shift them into the foreseeable pile.

Speaking of workslop, here’s an article from NN/g on how to avoid falling into over-reliance on AI in our design field. They call it the “7 Deadly AI Sins for UX Professionals.”

1. Outsourced Thinking
2. Wasted Time
3. Lost Details
4. Isolated Ideation
5. Naïve Trust
6. Bland Taste
7. Defensive Outlook

As Tanner Kohler writes:

It’s not about avoiding AI. It’s about maintaining your own growth and the quality of your work as you use AI. AI will constantly be changing. Never let yourself slip into repeatedly committing the sins that weaken you and your UX skills.

Designer Ben Holliday writes a wonderful deep dive into how caring is good design. In it, he references the conversation that Jony Ive had with Patrick Collison a few months ago. (It’s worth watching in its entirety if you haven’t already.)

Watching the interview back, I was struck by how he spoke about applying care to design, describing how:

“…everyone has the ability to sense the care in designed things because we can all recognise carelessness.”

Talking about the history of industrial design at Apple, Ive speaks about the care that went into the design of every product. That included the care that went into packaging – specifically things that might seem as inconsequential as how a cable was wrapped and then unpackaged. In reality, the type of small interactions that millions of people experienced when unboxing the latest iPhone. These are details that people wouldn’t see as such, but Ive and team believed that they would sense care when they had been carefully considered and designed.

This approach has always been a part of Jony Ive’s design philosophy, or the principles applied by his creative teams at Apple. I looked back and found an earlier 2015 interview and notes I’d made where he says how he believes that the majority of our manufactured environment is characterised by carelessness. But then, how, at Apple, they wanted people to sense care in their products.

The attention to detail and the focus and attention we can all bring to design is care. It’s important.

Holliday’s career has been focused in government, public sector, and non-profit environments. In other words, he thinks a lot about how design can impact people’s lives at massive scale.

In the past few months, I’ve been drawn to the word ‘careless’ when thinking about the challenges faced by our public services and society. This is especially the case with the framing around the impact of technology in our lives, and increasingly the big bets being made around AI to drive efficiency and productivity.

The word careless can be defined as the failure to give sufficient attention to avoiding harm or errors. Put simply, carelessness can be described as ‘negligence’.

Later, he cites Facebook/Meta’s carelessness when they “used data to target young people when at their most vulnerable,” specifically, body confidence.

Writing for UX Collective, Filipe Nzongo argues that designers should embrace behavior as a fundamental design material—not just to drive metrics or addiction, but to intentionally create products that empower people and foster meaningful, lasting change in their lives.

Behavior should be treated as a design material, just as technology once became our material. If we use behavior thoughtfully, we can create better products. More than that, I believe there is a broader and more meaningful opportunity before us: to design for behavior. Not to make people addicted to products, but to help them grow as human beings, better parents, citizens, students, and professionals. Because if behavior is our medium, then design is our tool for empowerment.

A former colleague of mine, designer Evan Sornstein wrote a wonderful piece on LinkedIn applying Buddhist principles to design.

Buddhism begins with the recognition that life is marked by impermanence, suffering, and non-self. These aren’t abstract doctrines — they are observations about how the world actually works. Over centuries, these ideas contributed to Japanese aesthetics: wabi-sabi (imperfection), ma (meaningful emptiness), yo no bi (beauty in usefulness), the humility of the shokunin, and the care of omotenashi. What emerges is not a set of rules, but an extraordinary perspective: beauty is inseparable from impermanence; usefulness is inseparable from dignity; care is inseparable from design. In an age when our digital products too often prioritize stickiness and metrics over humanity, these ideas offer a different path. They remind us that design is not about control or cleverness — it’s about connection, trust, and care.

The following eight principles aren’t new “methods” or “laws,” but reflections of this lineage, reframed for product design — though they apply to nearly any creative practice. They are invitations to design with the same attention, humility, and compassion that Buddhism and Japanese aesthetics have carried for centuries.

I think these guidelines from Vercel are great. It’s a one-pager and very clearly written for both humans and AI. It reminds me of the old school MailChimp brand voice guidelines and Apple’s Human Interface Guidelines which have become reference standards.

There’s a famous quote that Henry Ford allegedly said:

If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses.

Anton Sten argues that a lot of people use this quote to justify not doing any user (or market) research:

This quote gets thrown around constantly—usually by someone who wants to justify ignoring user research entirely. The logic goes: users don’t know what they want, so why bother asking them?

I think he’s right. The question to ask users isn’t “What should we build?” but “What are your biggest pain points?”

Good research uncovers problems. It reveals pain points. It helps you understand what people are actually struggling with in their daily lives. What they’re working around. What they’ve given up on entirely.

Users aren’t supposed to design your product. That’s your job. But they’re the only ones who can tell you what’s actually broken in their world.

When you focus on understanding problems instead of collecting feature requests, you stop getting “faster horses” and start hearing real needs.

Nielsen Norman Group weighs in on iOS 26 Liquid Glass. Predictably, they don’t like it. Raluca Budiu:

With iOS 26, Apple seems to be leaning harder into visual design and decorative UI effects — but at what cost to usability? At first glance, the system looks fluid and modern. But try to use it, and soon those shimmering surfaces and animated controls start to get in the way.

I get it. Flat—or mostly flat—and static UI conforms to the heuristics. But honestly, it can get boring and homogenous quickly. Put the NNg microscope on any video game UI and it’ll be torn to shreds, despite gamers learning to adapt quickly.

I’ve had iOS 26 on my phone for just a couple of weeks. I continue to be delighted by the animations and effects. So far, nothing has hindered the usability for me. We’ll see what happens as more and more apps get translated.

In my most recent post, I called out our design profession, for our part in developing these addictive products. Jeffrey Inscho, brings it back up to the tech industry at large and observes they’re actually publishers:

The executives at these companies will tell you they’re neutral platforms, that they don’t choose what content gets seen. This is a lie. Every algorithmic recommendation is an editorial decision. When YouTube’s algorithm suggests increasingly extreme political content to keep someone watching, that’s editorial. When Facebook’s algorithm amplifies posts that generate angry reactions, that’s editorial. When Twitter’s trending algorithms surface conspiracy theories, that’s editorial.

They are publishers. They have always been publishers. They just don’t want the responsibility that comes with being publishers.

His point is that if these social media platforms are sorting and promoting posts, it’s an editorial approach and they should be treated like newspapers. “It’s like a newspaper publisher claiming they’re not responsible for what appears on their front page because they didn’t write the articles themselves.”

The answer, Inscho argues, is regulation of the algorithms.

The headline rings true to me because that’s what I look for in designers and how I run my team. The software that we build is too complex and too mission-critical for designers to vibe-code—at least given today’s tooling. But each one of the designers on my team can fill in for a PM when they’re on vacation.

Kai Wong, writing in UX Collective:

One thing I’ve learned, talking with 15 design leaders (and one CEO), is that a ‘designer who codes’ may look appealing, but a ‘designer who understands business’ is far more valuable and more challenging to replace.

You already possess the core skill that makes this transition possible: the ability to understand users with systematic observation and thoughtful questioning.

The only difference, now, is learning to apply that same methodology to understand your business.

Strategic thinking doesn’t require fancy degrees (although it may sometimes help).

Ask strategic questions about business goals. Understand how to balance user and business needs. Frame your design decisions in terms of measurable business impact.

As much as I defended the preview, and as much as Apple wants to make Liquid Glass a thing, the new UI is continuing to draw criticism. Dan Moren for Six Colors:

“Glass” is the overall look of these updates, and it’s everywhere. Transparent, frosted, distorting. In some places it looks quite cool, such as in the edge distortion when you’re swiping up on the lock screen. But elsewhere, it seems to me that glass may not be quite the right material for the job. The Glass House might be architecturally impressive, but it’s not particularly practical.

It’s also a definite philosophical choice, and one that’s going to engender some criticism—much of it well-deserved. Apple has argued that it’s about getting controls out of the way, but is that really what’s happening here? It’s hard to argue that having a transparent button sitting right on top of your email is helping that email be more prominent. To take this argument to its logical conclusion, why is the keyboard not fully transparent glass over our content?

I’ve yet to upgrade myself. I will say that everyone dislikes change. Lest we forget that the now-ubiquitous flat design introduced by iOS 7 was also criticized.

Jason Spielman put up a case study on his site for his work on Google’s NotebookLM:

The mental model of NotebookLM was built around the creation journey: starting with inputs, moving through conversation, and ending with outputs. Users bring in their sources (documents, notes, references), then interact with them through chat by asking questions, clarifying, and synthesizing before transforming those insights into structured outputs like notes, study guides, and Audio Overviews.

And yes, he includes a sketch he did on the back of a napkin.

I’ve always wondered about the UX of NotebookLM. It’s not typical and, if I’m being honest, not exactly super intuitive. But after a while, it does make sense. Maybe I’m the outlier though, because Spielman’s grandmother found it easy. In an interview last year on Sequoia Capital’s Training Data, he recalls:

I actually do think part of the explosion of audio overviews was the fact it was a simple one click experience. I was on the phone with my grandma trying to explain her how to use it and it actually didn’t take any explanation. I’m like, “Drop in a source.” And she’s like, “Oh! I see. I click this button to generate it.” And I think that the ease of creation is really actually what catalyzed so much explosion. So I think when we think about adding these knobs [for customization] I think we want to do it in a way that’s very intentional.

Chatboxes have become the uber box for all things AI. The criticism of this blank box has been the cold start issue. New users don’t know what to type. Designers shipping these product mostly got around this problem by offering suggested prompts to teach users about the possibilities.

The issue on the other end is that expert users end up creating their own library of prompts to copy and paste into the chatbox for repetitive tasks.

Sharang Sharma writing in UX Collective illustrates how these UIs can be smarter by being predictive of intent:

Contrary, Predictive UX points to an alternate approach. Instead of waiting for users to articulate every step, systems can anticipate intent based on behavior or common patterns as the user types. Apple Reminders suggests likely tasks as you type. Grammarly predicts errors and offers corrections inline. Gmail’s Smart Compose even predicts full phrases, reducing the friction of drafting entirely.

Sharma says that the goal of predictive UX is to “reduce time-to-value and reframe AI as an adaptive partner that anticipates user’s intent as you type.”

Imagine a little widget that appears within the chatbox as you type. Kind of a cool idea.

Thinking about this morning’s link about web forms, if you abstract why it’s so powerful, you get to the point of human-computer interaction: the computer should do what the user intends, not the buttons they push.

Matt Webb reminds us about the DWIM, or Do What I Mean philosophy in computing that was coined by Warren Teitelman in 1966. Webb quotes computer scientist Larry Masinter:

DWIM is an embodiment of the idea that the user is interacting with an agent who attempts to interpret the user’s request from contextual information. Since we want the user to feel that he is conversing with the system, he should not be stopped and forced to correct himself or give additional information in situations where the correction or information is obvious.

Webb goes on to say:

Squint and you can see ChatGPT as a DWIM UI: it never, never, never says “syntax error.”

Now, arguably it should come back and ask for clarifications more often, and in particular DWIM (and AI) interfaces are more successful the more they have access to the user’s context (current situation, history, environment, etc).

But it’s a starting point. The algo is: design for capturing intent and then DWIM; iterate until that works. AI unlocks that.

Forms is one of the fundamental things we make users do in software. Whether it’s the login screen, billing address form, or a mortgage application, forms are the main method for getting data from users and into computer-accessible databases. The human is deciding what piece of information to put into which column in the database. With AI, form filling should be much simpler.

Luke Wroblewski makes the argument:

With Web forms, the burden is on people to adapt to databases. Today’s AI models, however, can flip this requirement. That is, they allow people to provide information in whatever form they like and use AI do the work necessary to put that information into the right structure for a database.

How can it work?

With AgentDB connected to an AI model (via an MCP server), a person can simply say “add this” and provide an image, PDF, audio, video, you name it. The model will use AgentDB’s template to decide what information to extract from this unstructured input and how to format it for the database. In the case where something is missing or incomplete, the model can ask for clarification or use tools (like search) to find possible answers.

DOC is a publication from Fabricio Teixeira and Caio Braga that I’ve linked to before. Their latest reflection is on interfaces.

A good user interface is a good conversation.

Interfaces thrive on clarity, responsiveness, and mutual understanding. In a productive dialogue, each party clearly articulates their intentions and receives timely, understandable responses. Just as a good conversationalist anticipates the next question or need, a good interface guides you smoothly through your task. At their core, interfaces translate intent into action. They’re a bridge between what’s in your head and what the product can do.

Reflection is the best word I’ve found to describe these pieces. They’re hype-free, urging us to take a step back, and—at least for me—a reminder about our why.

In the end, interfaces are also a space for self-expression.

The ideal of “no interface” promises ultimate efficiency and direct access—but what do we lose in that pursuit? Perhaps the interface is not just a barrier to be minimized, but a space for human expression. It’s a canvas; a place to imbue a product with personality, visual expression, and a unique form of art.

When we strip that away, or make everything look the same, we lose something important. We trade the unique and the delightful for the purely functional. We sacrifice a vital part of what makes technology human: the thoughtful, and sometimes imperfect, ways we present ourselves to the world.

Hard to believe that the Domino’s Pizza tracker debuted in 2008. The moment was ripe for them—about a year after the debut of the iPhone. Mobile e-commerce was in its early days.

Alex Mayyasi for The Hustle:

…the tracker’s creation was spurred by the insight that online orders were more profitable – and made customers more satisfied – than phone or in-person orders. The company’s push to increase digital sales from 20% to 50% of its business led to new ways to order (via a tweet, for example) and then a new way for customers to track their order.

Mayyasi weaves together a tale of business transparency, UI, and content design, tracing—or tracking?—the tracker’s impact on business since then. “The pizza tracker is essentially a progress bar.” But progress bars do so much for the user experience, most of which is setting proper expectations.

Interesting piece from Vaughn Tan about a critical thinking framework that is disguised as a piece about building better AI UIs for critical thinking. Sorry, that sentence is kind of a tongue-twister. Tan calls out—correctly—that LLMs don’t think, or in his words, can’t make meaning:

Meaningmaking is making inherently subjective decisions about what’s valuable: what’s desirable or undesirable, what’s right or wrong. The machines behind the prompt box are remarkable tools, but they’re not meaningmaking entities.

Therefore when users ask LLMs for their opinions on matters, e.g., as in the therapy use case, the AIs won’t come back with actual thinking. IMHO, it’s semantics, but that’s another post.

Anyhow, Tan shares a pen and paper prototype he’s been testing, which breaks down a major decision into guided steps, or put another way, a framework.

This user experience was designed to simulate a multi-stage process of structured elicitation of various aspects of strongly reasoned arguments. This design explicitly addresses both requirements for good tool use. The structured prompts helped students think critically about what they were actually trying to accomplish with their custom major proposals — the meaningmaking work of determining value, worth, and personal fit. Simultaneously, the framework made clear what kinds of thinking work the students needed to do themselves versus what kinds of information gathering and analysis could potentially be supported by tools like LLMs.

This guided or framework-driven approach was something I attempted wtih Griffin AI. Via a series of AI-guided prompts to the user—or a glorified form, honestly—my tool helped users build brand strategies. To be sure, a lot of the “thinking” was done by the model, but the idea that an AI can guide you to critically think about your business or your client’s business was there.

Designer Tey Bannerman writes that when he hears “human in the loop,” he’s reminded of a story about Lieutenant Colonel Stanislav Petrov, a Soviet Union duty watch officer who monitored for incoming missile strikes from the US.

12:15 AM… the unthinkable. Every alarm in the facility started screaming. The screens showed five US ballistic missiles, 28 minutes from impact. Confidence level: 100%. Petrov had minutes to decide whether to trigger a chain reaction that would start nuclear war and could very well end civilisation as we knew it.

He was the “human in the loop” in the most literal, terrifying sense.

Everything told him to follow protocol. His training. His commanders. The computers.

But something felt wrong. His intuition, built from years of intelligence work, whispered that this didn’t match what he knew about US strategic thinking.

Against every protocol, against the screaming certainty of technology, he pressed the button marked “false alarm”.

Twenty-three minutes of gripping fear passed before ground radar confirmed: no missiles. The system had mistaken a rare alignment of sunlight on high-altitude clouds for incoming warheads.

His decision to break the loop prevented nuclear war.

Then Bannerman shares an awesome framework he developed that allows humans in the loop in AI systems “genuine authority, time to think, and understanding the bigger picture well enough to question” the system’s decision. Click on to get the PDF from his site.

As a follow-up to yesterday’s item on how Google’s AI overviews are curtailing traffic to websites by as much as 25%, here is a link to Nielsen Norman Group’s just-published study showing that generative AI is reshaping search.

Kate Moran, Maria Rosala and Josh Brown:

While AI offers compelling shortcuts around tedious research tasks, it isn’t close to completely replacing traditional search. But, even when people are using traditional search, the AI-generated overview that now tops almost all search-results pages steals a significant amount of attention and often shortcuts the need to visit the actual pages.

They write that users have developed a way to search over the years, skipping sponsored results and heading straight for the organic links. Users also haven’t completely broken free of traditional Google Search, now adding chatbots to the mix:

While generative AI does offer enough value to change user behaviors, it has not replaced traditional search entirely. Traditional search and AI chats were often used in tandem to explore the same topic and were sometimes used to fact-check each other.

All our participants engaged in traditional search (using keywords, evaluating results pages, visiting content pages, etc.) multiple times in the study. Nobody relied entirely on genAI’s responses (in chat or in an AI overview) for all their information-seeking needs.

In many ways, I think this is smart. Unless “web search” is happening, I tend double-check ChatGPT and Claude, especially for anything historical and mission-critical. I also like Perplexity for that fact—because it shows me its receipts by giving me sources.

I enjoyed this interview with Notion’s CEO, Ivan Zhao over at the Decoder podcast, with substitute host, Casey Newton. What I didn’t quite get when I first used Notion was the “LEGO” aspect of it. Their vision is to build business software that is highly malleable and configurable to do all sorts of things. Here’s Zhao:

Well, because it didn’t quite exist with software. If you think about the last 15 years of [software-as-a-service], it’s largely people building vertical point solutions. For each buyer, for each point, that solution sort of makes sense. The way we describe it is that it’s like a hard plastic solution for your problem, but once you have 20 different hard plastic solutions, they sort of don’t fit well together. You cannot tinker with them. As an end user, you have to jump between half a dozen of them each day.

That’s not quite right, and we’re also inspired by the early computing pioneers who in the ‘60s and ‘70s thought that computing should be more LEGO-like rather than like hard plastic. That’s what got me started working on Notion a long time ago, when I was reading a computer science paper back in college.

From a user experience POV, Notion is both simple and exceedingly complicated. Taking notes is easy. Building the system for a workflow, not so much.

In the second half, Newton (gently) presses Zhao on the impact of AI on the workforce and how productivity software like Notion could replace headcount.

Newton: Do you think that AI and Notion will get to a point where executives will hire fewer people, because Notion will do it for them? Or are you more focused on just helping people do their existing jobs?

Zhao: We’re actually putting out a campaign about this, in the coming weeks or months. We want to push out a more amplifying, positive message about what Notion can do for you. So, imagine the billboard we’re putting out. It’s you in the center. Then, with a tool like Notion or other AI tools, you can have AI teammates. Imagine that you and I start a company. We’re two co-founders, we sign up for Notion, and all of a sudden, we’re supplemented by other AI teammates, some taking notes for us, some triaging, some doing research while we’re sleeping.

Zhao dodges the “hire fewer people” part of the question and instead, answers with “amplifying” people or making them more productive.

Ben Davies-Romano argues that the AI chat box is our new design interface:

Every interaction with a large language model starts the same way: a blinking cursor in a blank text field. That unassuming box is more than an input — it’s the interface between our human intent and the model’s vast, probabilistic brain.

This is where the translation happens. We pour in the nuance, constraints, and context of our ideas; the model converts them into an output. Whether it’s generating words, an image, a video sequence, or an interactive prototype, every request passes through this narrow bridge.

It’s the highest-stakes, lowest-fidelity design surface I’ve ever worked with: a single field that stands between human creativity and an engine capable of reshaping it into almost any form, albeit with all the necessary guidance and expertise applied.

In other words, don’t just say “Make it better,” but guide the AI instead.

That’s why a vague, lazy prompt, like “make it better”, is the design equivalent of telling a junior designer “make it intuitive” and walking away. You’ll get something generic, safe, and soulless, not because the AI “missed the brief,” but because there was no brief.

Without clear stakes, a defined brand voice, and rich context, the system will fill in the blanks with its default, most average response. And “average” is rarely what design is aiming for.

And he makes a point that designers should be leading the charge on showing others what generative AI can do:

In the age of AI, it shouldn’t be everyone designing, per say. It should be designers using AI as an extension of our craft. Bringing our empathy, our user focus, our discipline of iteration, and our instinct for when to stop generating and start refining. AI is not a replacement for that process; it’s a multiplier when guided by skilled hands.

So, let’s lead. Let’s show that the real power of AI isn’t in what it can generate, but in how we guide it — making it safer, sharper, and more human. Let’s replace the fear and the gimmicks with clarity, empathy, and intentionality.

The blank prompt is our new canvas. And friends, we need to be all over it.