It was the day before Thanksgiving in 2023, and I was standing in front of my students at HSE Moscow. The projector buzzed faintly as I clicked to the first slide.
“Today,” I told them, “I'm going to give you something you won't forget. Not just rules for design, but a way to think about people and their work.”
I walked them through the principles one by one:
First, always bring people what they need for each step of their work. Don't make them chase tools through a maze.
Second, let them feel in charge. Even if they choose a less efficient path, they should own their decisions.
Third, keep them informed. A spinner shouldn't just appear out of nowhere like a ghost; explain why it exists. Status is trust.
Fourth, remember that color isn't universal. Always give those who can't see it another path to understanding.
These went on up until 12. Afer I finished, the room was quiet. Then one of the students raised a hand: “So these are rules for software?”
“Not only that,” I said. “They're also rules for respect.”
• • •
After class, I packed my laptop, slipped on my coat, and stepped outside. Moscow air bit at my cheeks, sharp and clean. As I walked home, the first flakes of snow drifted down, light as ash, settling on my shoulders.
By the time I reached the door, the streets were dusted white. Inside, warmth spilled from the kitchen where my wife, friends, and family were gathering. Laughter carried down the hall. This was my first Thanksgiving as an American and it was snowing. In Moscow.
Fifth, be consistent when things behave the same, but inconsistent when they don't. The “X” must never mean two different things.
I hung up my coat, brushed the snow from my sleeves, and thought: the principles I'd just taught weren't only about software. They were about life — giving people clarity, freedom, and kindness in the paths we build for them.
Sixth, place confirmation where it feels natural — at the bottom, not hidden in the corner.
And that night, with the snow falling outside and the table full, it felt like the interfaces of life itself had been designed just right.
Seventh, if they can't find it, it doesn't exist. Don't hide core tools in the name of elegance. Simplicity is clarity, not concealment.
Eighth, errors should be kind. They should explain, guide, and offer a way to push back when the system is wrong.
Ninth, make the interface explorable. Provide paths but don't lock the doors. Suggest a road, but don't forbid the detour.
Tenth, make actions reversible. Give them a way to undo. Give them a way to scream “Cancel everything!” and be heard.
Eleventh, use metaphors people grasp instantly. A plus means add. Binoculars? Not so much.
And finally, words matter. Put the important ones first. Make labels scannable, so meaning leaps out at a glance.