It’s my job to try to figure out what the user needs, know how to provide for those needs, and do my level best to get it done. If I claim to have done a perfect job in anticipating every user’s every need, then I’m deluded and need to back off the caffeine. But it’s equally wrong, in my view, to give a user a minimally styled page that depends on the user (or more likely, the browser) defaults. That is doing the user a disservice.
Does this mean that I know more than the typical user, and am using my knowledge to give him/her things that he doesn’t even know about? Damn right, just like Otto the mechanic knows enough about automobiles to perform repairs that I didn’t even know I needed. I’m glad he knows things I don’t, depend on him to do them for me, and pay him for his knowledge and his intervention.
Taken to the extreme, we’re getting into the worst kind of “crowd-sourced decision making,” where sheer volume outweighs knowledge, artistic taste, and craftsmanship. A majority of users use IE7? Fine, I’ll design strictly for them and the hell with the minority who use Firefox or Opera. A majority of users likes color schemes based on blue? Great, I’ll never use a color scheme based on green or purple.
This is, in a sense, “representative democracy.” I represent the users in my designs. They have veto power, whether it’s with the one(s) who hired me and demand changes in my design, or with the masses, who can show their disapproval of my design by refusing to use my site. But they depend on me to give them a site that’s well-designed and meets their needs, without them needing to have the knowledge to create and implement the design. It’s my job to do it right.
This conversation makes me hark back to an obscure SF book by Jack Vance, called Wyst: Alastor 1716. In the society of the book, everyone works random jobs with no thought to their skills or knowledge, and is switched to a new job every week in order to “maintain egalitarianism” – to prevent someone from becoming “better” than another by actually acquiring any real skill at anything. It’s dysfunctional, of course, and works no better than it would if Otto took my seat at the computer and let me work on some hapless guy’s Chevy. Instead of my decently constructed Web sites and Otto’s well-running Chevy, we’d have badly constructed Web sites and a Chevy that won’t get out of the parking lot. Or maybe I should swap jobs with Heidi the heart surgeon?
Sorry, but I don’t go for this extremist libertarianism. It sounds good on the Perot/Paulista blogs, but it just doesn’t work in the real world.