Seeing shifts in design standards proliferate around the web is a bit like watching a herd of wilder-beast crossing alligator-infested waters. There are a few brave front-runners, but when the herd moves, it’s a veritable stampede where everyone feels they’re enjoying safety in numbers.
Somewhere in the last 2 years, the majority of web designers decided it was safe to start designing for 1024×768 as a baseline screen resolution. Designers everywhere embraced this extra space wholeheartedly. And why not? Suddenly we had a little more room to do things. Almost too much room — like moving into a large house and not having enough furniture to fill it. What to do with all this free space?
And like an awkward pause in a conversation…
…we filled it.
The thing is, that while our canvas has grown, many fundamental elements that fill a page haven’t. After all, our eyes are the same size. Generally speaking, text didn’t suddenly get larger. And consequently optimal line widths (and thus columns) remain more or less the same too.
People fill space because they’re scared of it. They treat empty space like an awkward pause in a conversation that should be filled as soon as possible with smalltalk.
So the space was simply filled with additional content — sidebars, twitter feeds, rss buttons and flickr sets, archives and adverts. We’ve columnized and monetized. We indulged our clients (who, let’s face it, almost always want at least three times too much content on any given page). With more horizontal space there’s a lot more content nuzzled in side-by-side. Information now comes thicker and faster and is processed in a less linear way.
Great!
Well, not exactly. After all, with more screen, there’s now more information being communicated on it at once. Understandably people want to use those precious pixels and squeeze every useable space they can out of a layout.
But as page design has evolved to deliver information in a ‘broadband’ format, I wonder whether we have evolved as quickly as the content we consume. I certainly don’t read books quicker than I did 5 years ago. How is it that we’re suddenly able to process more ‘stuff’ at once?
I’d argue we’ve actually adapted by learning to scan content without necessarily absorbing any more of it than we used to. What’s interesting about this idea is that if we have a finite amount of mental bandwidth to take information in (which isn’t such a radical assumption), then there’s a threshold, beyond which, communication is inversely effective. Another way of putting it — visually, there comes a point when the more messages you fill your page with, the less each item is worth. The more you say, the less people hear.
Whether you know it or not, you’re designing on a visual budget. How much you’ve got to play with depends on the nature of your content and your audience. Always ask yourself, “how much attention span do I have left to spend?” Don’t get greedy and try to fit more in. You’re almost always on a tighter visual budget than you’d think.
To truly communicate one or maybe a handful of messages requires an investment of space. Good web designers are stock brokers of screen space. Their awareness of this hidden exchange is inextricably linked to their skill in visual communication. They should have a very clear idea of the hierarchy of information well before starting and be able to distribute the right amount of visual attention to the right messages.
When a user visits your site for 5-10 seconds and takes away from it at least one of the messages you’d like them to, it’s probably doing its job. These messages aren’t necessarily just words, they’re images, a mood, an impression. If you connect with the viewer with the right combination of clear, uncluttered information, you can chalk that up as a win. If they then choose to buy something or sign up to something based on this information, great! Jackpot.
This isn’t necessarily about just bumping up text size, or using bright colours. Sometimes it’s as simple as saying more by saying less. Visual affluence happens through spending space wisely.
I think they’re trying to tell us something. Apple’s homepage is an extreme case in point.
There are many things to think about when trying to improve the currency of your messages, but here are three key things to remember.
Stick with only the things you really need. A handful of messages is all you’ll ever get through. You owe it to your client to explain why no one cares about their mission statement on the homepage. Ask why an element should be there, not why it shouldn’t. Everything you add is diluting what you’re trying to say.
Currently when a website is ‘optimised’ for mobile, iPhone and now, iPad, it’s slimmed down to its bare-bones — the essence of what makes it it. In these formats space is particularly valuable because there’s less of it. Normally these ‘lite’ formats are afterthoughts. We should be designing backwards from these formats, not the other way round.
Budget your space based on your pages’ goals and priorities. Even though the content may not be linear, per se, visual hierarchy is the best way of making content digestible in the order you want. If every part is playing at the same volume, you don’t have music, you have noise.
When you try hard, you die hard. People fill space because they’re scared of it. They treat empty space like an awkward pause in a conversation that should be filled as soon as possible with smalltalk. When you have a conversation with someone who has no problem with silence, they will invariably appear more confident, and seemingly speak with more conviction. Let your messages be slow and clear.
—Published 13 April, 2010