Michelle: Think about the ugliest, most functional tool you own. Maybe it's a clunky can opener or a pair of old pliers. Mark: Oh, I've got a whole toolbox full of them. They look like they survived a war, but they get the job done. Michelle: Exactly. Now, think about the most beautiful but slightly impractical thing you love. That wobbly antique chair, a hand-blown glass vase... Mark: Okay, now you're describing my living room. I have a vintage radio that looks incredible but only picks up static. Michelle: Perfect. What if I told you that, scientifically, the beautiful vintage radio probably works better in your mind than the can opener? Not just feels better—works better. That's the rabbit hole we're jumping down today. Mark: Whoa, hold on. My beautiful, wobbly antique chair definitely does not work better than my boring, stable office chair. You've got some explaining to do. That sounds like a justification for spending too much money on pretty things. Michelle: It sounds like it, but it’s a core argument in the book we’re exploring today: Emotional Design: Why We Love (or Hate) Everyday Things by Donald A. Norman. And Norman isn't just some design guru; he's a renowned cognitive scientist. Mark: The same Don Norman who wrote The Design of Everyday Things? The guy who taught us all why we can never figure out how to open certain doors? Michelle: The very same. And what's fascinating is that he wrote Emotional Design almost as an apology for that earlier book. He felt he’d focused too much on pure, cold logic and usability, and completely missed the most important element: emotion. This book is his great correction. Mark: So the master of logic had a change of heart? I’m intrigued. He’s basically saying our feelings about an object change how well it functions? Michelle: Precisely. He argues it’s not just a feeling; it's rooted in how our brain is wired. He breaks it down into three distinct levels of processing.

Mark: Okay, three levels. This is where you're going to tell me why my broken radio is secretly a high-performance machine. Lay it on me. Michelle: (Laughs) Almost. The first level is Visceral. This is your gut reaction. It’s subconscious, biological. It’s the lizard part of your brain seeing a sleek sports car or a beautiful sunset and just going, "Wow, I want that." It’s all about appearance, the immediate sensory hit. Mark: Right, that’s the first impression. It’s like swiping right on a dating app based purely on the photo. It’s shallow, but it’s powerful. Michelle: Exactly. The second level is Behavioral. This is all about the experience of using the thing. Is it easy to use? Is it effective? Does it feel good in your hands? This is the domain of traditional usability, the core of Norman's first book. It's about function and performance. Mark: Okay, so that’s the actual date. Does the conversation flow? Are they a good person? It’s the "does it actually work" part. So what’s the third level? Michelle: The third, and maybe most powerful, level is Reflective. This is the conscious, contemplative part of your brain. It’s about the meaning of the object, the story it tells, the memories it holds. It’s about your self-image. Owning a Rolex isn't just about telling time—it’s about what owning a Rolex says about you. Mark: Ah, so that’s my useless vintage radio! It’s not about the function; it’s about the fact that it reminds me of my grandfather’s house. It’s a piece of my story. Visceral, Behavioral, Reflective. Got it. But that still doesn't explain how a pretty object works better. Michelle: This is where it gets fascinating. Norman points to a classic study by Japanese researchers on ATM interfaces. They designed two ATMs. Both had the exact same buttons, same functions, same everything. The only difference was that one was arranged beautifully and the other was deliberately ugly and awkward. Mark: And let me guess, people just said they liked the pretty one more? Michelle: They did, but it was more than that. They rated the attractive ATM as being significantly easier to use. They literally thought it worked better. A scientist in Israel named Noam Tractinsky was so skeptical, especially thinking that aesthetics are culturally dependent, that he replicated the entire experiment there. Mark: And what did he find? Michelle: He found the exact same thing, but the effect was even stronger. The beautiful machine was perceived as fundamentally more functional. Mark: That’s wild. So people weren't just saying they preferred it; their brains were telling them the pretty one was a better machine, even though it was identical. Why? Michelle: This is the crux of it. Norman connects this to research by psychologist Alice Isen. She found that when we feel good, our brains literally work differently. In her experiments, she’d give one group of people a small gift, like a bag of candy, before asking them to solve a difficult problem. Mark: A little sugar to prime the pump. Michelle: Exactly. And the group that got the gift, the ones who were in a slightly more positive emotional state, were far more creative and better at solving the problem. Positive emotions broaden our thinking, make us more flexible, and more tolerant of minor difficulties. Mark: Wait, so let me connect the dots. The beautiful ATM puts you in a good mood—a positive affective state. And because you’re in a good mood, you’re more patient, more creative, and you find the machine easier to deal with. So the attractive thing literally does work better because it makes us work better. Michelle: You've got it. It’s not magic; it’s neuroscience. Anxious, frustrated people get tunnel vision. They see a problem and just keep trying the same failed solution. Happy, relaxed people are better at stepping back and finding a different way. Beauty makes us better problem-solvers. Mark: So that's why I'm so much better at assembling IKEA furniture after I've had a cookie. It all makes sense now! My frustration isn't with the confusing Swedish diagrams; it's a lack of positive affect! Michelle: (Laughs) You might be onto something. It shows that design isn't a luxury. It's a fundamental part of making things usable and effective.

Mark: Okay, the ATM study is a fantastic piece of evidence, but it's a controlled experiment. How does this three-level thinking—visceral, behavioral, reflective—play out with the real, messy, everyday objects we choose to live with? Michelle: Norman uses a wonderfully personal example to explain this: his own collection of three teapots. They sit on his kitchen windowsill, and each one tells a different story about emotional design. Mark: I'm ready. Let's talk teapots. Michelle: First, there's what he calls the "unusable teapot." It's a beautiful, sculptural object. It looks amazing on the shelf. But it’s horribly designed for actually making tea. The handle is on the same side as the spout, so you’d have to hold it with a potholder to pour, and it tends to dribble everywhere. Mark: (Laughs) I think I've owned that teapot. Or at least its cousin, the "gorgeous but leaky coffee press." So that one is all visceral and reflective appeal, but a total failure on the behavioral level. Michelle: Exactly. It’s art, not a tool. Then there’s his "Nanna teapot." It's a bit quirky and charming, not a high-design object, but it’s surprisingly well-balanced, pours perfectly, and never drips. It hits all three levels: it’s cute (visceral), it works perfectly (behavioral), and it has a warm, friendly personality (reflective). Mark: That’s the ideal, right? The perfect balance of form, function, and feeling. Michelle: It is. But then there’s the third one, the "tilting teapot." It's a clever, complex piece of engineering. You put the tea leaves on one side of a mesh screen, hot water on the other. You lay it on its back to brew. When the tea is ready, you tilt it up, and the water separates from the leaves. Mark: Wow, that’s a very behavioral design. It’s all about solving the problem of over-steeping the tea. It’s a system. Michelle: It is. It’s a brilliant piece of functional design, and Norman admires it for its cleverness—that’s a reflective quality. But it’s not particularly beautiful, and it’s a bit complicated. So it’s strong on behavioral and reflective, but weaker on the visceral side. Mark: So the three teapots are like a microcosm of all design. The object that’s pure art, the one that’s the perfect everyday companion, and the one that’s a brilliant but complex tool. Michelle: Precisely. And they show that we don't need every object to be a perfect balance of all three. Sometimes we want a beautiful object to just look at. Other times, we need a reliable tool that just works. The best designers understand which level they are targeting for a specific person and a specific context. Mark: This makes me think about technology, which is where these emotions get really complicated. My phone, for instance. I have a total love-hate relationship with it. It’s a beautiful object, the visceral design is a 10 out of 10. But it also drives me crazy with notifications and frustrating software. How does Norman's framework explain that? Michelle: He actually dedicates a whole section to this, to what he calls "Emotional Machines." Our relationship with technology is a perfect example of the three levels being in conflict. We love the visceral design—the sleek glass and metal. We love the behavioral service it provides—instant connection to anyone, anywhere. Mark: Right, the ability to text a friend or look up a map is an amazing function. Michelle: But we often hate the behavioral experience of using it—the confusing menus, the constant interruptions, the feeling of being tethered to it. Norman says we're in a constant state of being "always connected, always distracted." The reflective part of our brain loves the status and the feeling of being in the loop, but the behavioral part is often in a state of low-grade frustration. Mark: That is it exactly! It’s a love-hate relationship because it’s a battle between the different levels of design. I love the idea of it, but I hate the reality of using it sometimes. It’s a beautiful tool that often makes me feel bad. Michelle: And that’s the frontier of modern design. It’s not just about making a product that works anymore. It’s about managing that complex emotional relationship the user has with it over time.

Michelle: So when you pull it all together, from the ATMs to the teapots to our phones, Norman’s message is incredibly clear. Design isn't just about making things work. It's about crafting an emotional journey. Mark: It really reframes the whole purpose of design. It’s not just engineering; it’s a form of applied psychology. A great product has to speak to all three parts of you: your gut, your hands, and your heart. Michelle: Exactly. The visceral, the behavioral, and the reflective. And it explains why we form such powerful attachments to objects. It’s not just about what they do for us; it’s about what they mean to us. Mark: It’s a powerful reminder that we're not just rational creatures making logical choices. The things we choose to surround ourselves with are part of our story. They reflect who we are, and maybe more importantly, who we want to be. That old, beat-up mug I have isn't just a container for coffee; it’s a symbol of comfort, of quiet mornings, of my personal history. Michelle: And that reflective value can be the most important thing of all. So here’s a little experiment for everyone listening. The next time you buy something, or even just pick up an object you already own, take a second to ask yourself: Is this hitting my visceral, behavioral, or reflective buttons? Is it the look, the function, or the story? You'll be surprised what you learn about yourself. Mark: I love that. And we want to see what you discover. Find an object you love for reasons you can’t quite explain—your own "unusable teapot"—and share a picture of it with us on our social channels. We want to see the things that bring you joy, even if they don't make perfect sense. Michelle: It’s a celebration of emotional design in the wild. It’s been a pleasure exploring this. Mark: Absolutely. This is Aibrary, signing off.