Library Buildings 2005: Power Users

What does it take for an average patron to find his way around your library? How easy is it to find a cookbook, or a PC, or a video on goldfish care for kids? In a society that jealously guards its time, our job—if libraries are to remain relevant—is to get patrons in the door and in front of the materials they want quickly and easily.

Libraries face pressing obstacles in organizing their vast array of resources. Ever-growing inventory coupled with patron expectations that libraries will have “everything” put shelf and floor space at a premium. Buildings that are historic or sentimental to their communities, cramped and out-of-date, are fixed footprints that are difficult to stretch to accommodate new materials, new media, and new services.

“The clock that governs our lives intrudes on our willingness to use resources,” says Paco Underhill, the retail guru behind such best sellers as Why We Buy and Call of the Mall (both from Simon & Schuster). In an audioconference sponsored by the Urban Libraries Council and Library Journal, Underhill advised librarians to get patrons to their goal and consider anything that keeps them from it to be the enemy.

“Libraries are very complex,” says Karen Rossi, the first floor services manager at the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. “There’s layer upon layer of resources, and patrons often have no clue where to start.”

Rossi became aware of the difficulty many patrons have in using the library when she got involved in an “information architecture” program, designed to support the remodeling of Carnegie’s grand main library. Information architecture is the view of the library from its users’ vantage point. Like Underhill, Rossi feels the best information architecture is one that is completely intuitive and predictable to the user.

It makes perfect sense: design our spaces and signs so that our users can find things and find help easily. That’s not the library tradition, however. Librarians label things in jargon (consider “reference desk”) and use complicated numeric systems to organize resources (à la Dewey Decimals). Whether it’s from library school training or a common trait among those who are drawn to library work, our field organizes in a way that makes it simple for librarians to put their hands on materials but has left library users on the outside.

Carnegie’s research into its information architecture began with focus groups, where library users discussed their experiences. “It was shocking to us how hard it was to use the library,” Rossi says. Staff discovered they had “power users”—a group whom Rossi defines as having “cracked the code” and are able to use a full range of the library’s services. Most of the library’s users, however, confined themselves to a small set of resources—those they could find and understand. Carnegie set its sights on making the library’s systems and services simple and dependable, so more patrons could become power users.

Hennepin County’s Brookdale Branch set similar goals when the branch was slated for remodeling. “Our focus was to remove barriers, ease access to resources, and encourage the development of self-reliant users,” says Mike McConnell, Hennepin’s coordinating librarian for public services. The library’s research showed that the community, encompassing a broad mix of cultures, was intimidated by the traditional library space. “When patrons came in here they were unsure and uncomfortable. Something totally different had to be done.”

Carnegie commissioned a scientific study with Maya Design, Inc. (www.maya.com), a consultancy that specializes in making complex products, services, and environments easier to understand. The goal: to make the library more efficient for users. At the core of the study was observation. Maya’s researchers shadowed both users and staff, looking for common “break points,” spots at which the user lost her way or became frustrated in (or ended) her search. Staff intervention was observed to determine its appropriateness—was it at the right time, who initiated it, did it occur at all? From there, Maya built storyboards that mapped how users traveled through the space and what they encountered along the way.

At Brookdale, user research took a different approach. With a smaller, more defined set of community needs, Brookdale’s administrators started with a blank slate, relying upon discussions with residents, community groups, and local government to determine where the library would go and how it would be configured.

Both libraries started with the end user, looking at what the patron wanted, needed, and understood in the library. Ultimately, both libraries transformed the character and accessibility of their resources by simplifying the library’s systems, guiding users through the space, and establishing ­expectations.

When Brookdale assessed the needs of its community, it discovered a trend in high-interest areas. The community wanted the library’s help with homework, technology, small business, careers, automotive, recreational reading, and a handful of other topics but little else. That revelation led to a bold move: the library simplified its collection, stripping it by 50 percent and focusing solely on the areas identified by the community.

Then, the branch organized its space by subject area, creating what McConnell calls “information neighborhoods.” The neighborhoods are marked with huge, retail-style signs that declare “Health & Fitness” or “Automotive” and are accessible off a carpeted pathway.

Each information neighborhood includes all the library’s materials on the subject area—both circulating and reference along with periodicals, databases, newsletters, etc.—work tables, comfortable seating, and computers. The computer homepage defaults to the high-interest area, too. For example, in the automotive area, the computers default to an automotive homepage. “We don’t make people click through layers and layers to get what they want,” says McConnell. “We simplify every element.”

The neighborhood concept was driven by close observation of what the community understood and embraced. A large percentage of Brookdale’s service area is composed of new immigrants. “A one-stop shop with everything you might need is a real service enhancement and a much easier learning experience for the less-skilled user,” says McConnell. “It engenders self-reliance, self-confidence, and a greater chance of long-term success in using libraries.”

At Carnegie, the library dumped jargon in favor of language that users better understand. For example, “Reference Desk” became “Ask a Librarian” and “Circulation Desk” became “Customer Service.” More importantly, each station is supported with action words that tell the users what they can do there. At the Customer Service area they can “Get a library card, check out and return materials, pay fees.” The Ask the Librarian station provides similarly direct statements about what users can do and get help with.

Language is consistent throughout the library’s many portals—virtual and physical. A user entering the library’s web site will find identical stations (Customer Service, Ask a Librarian, etc.) so that they need to learn the system only once.

The ultimate in library jargon is the Dewey Decimal system, and it violates the principles of good information architecture on multiple levels. Most significantly, it reveals the complexities of the library’s systems and confuses users. Librarians who print handy guides to understanding Dewey Decimal Classification muddy navigation with another layer. Librarians who answer the question, “Where are the cookbooks?” with an answer meant to educate the patron: “The cookbooks are in the 600s. I’ll show you,” are equally guilty. The library user is made to feel like a stranger in a strange land…a land that cannot be navigated without aid from an insider.

What replaces Dewey Decimals? Librarians can continue to use the system to organize their materials, but they shouldn’t expect their patrons to use it or understand it. Chain bookstores are cues to an obvious solution: mark areas and shelves in lay language: put cookbooks on a shelf marked “Cookbooks.” To accommodate ever-shifting collections, follow Carnegie’s and Brookdale’s models and make sure signs, labels, and navigational tools are portable.

Guiding users throughout the library is critical to making the library more inviting. Brookdale uses a combination of large, commercial signs (think Target, says McConnell) to identify the information neighborhoods. Each sign is visible from the front entrance so that users know immediately where the area is located. However, the library also uses carpet patterns as guideposts. Pathways that lead to neighborhoods feature a consistent pattern and color. Each neighborhood has its own pattern so that users know they’ve entered a new space. McConnell puts it simply: “Signs pull you, and carpets lead you.”

Brookdale employs other visual cues, as well. For example, since multiple types of resources are available in each neighborhood, the library identifies circulating versus noncirculating items by changing the shelf color. Anything on an ivory shelf can go home with a patron, while reference is confined to deep burgundy shelves.

At Carnegie, they like ceiling-hung signs that show where services are located but used the results of observation studies to determine where to place navigation signs. It’s a strategy endorsed by Underhill. In Why We Buy he writes, “You can’t just look around your store, see where there are empty spots on the walls and put a sign there. Every store is a collection of zones and you’ve got to map them out before you can place a single sign. You’ve got to get up and walk around, asking yourself with every step: what will shoppers be doing here? Putting a sign that requires 12 seconds to read in a place where the customer spends four seconds is just slightly more effective than putting it in your garage.”

Carnegie’s detailed storyboards identified places where patrons commonly stopped and those spots where they most often kept their pace, moving through without breaking stride. Now Carnegie uses common stop areas for information kiosks and maps. These are also areas where staff intervention is timely and useful. Staff watch these areas for confused-looking patrons, allowing them to help before patrons become frustrated or lost.

Conversely, areas where users are typically moving are poor places to put information and even the friendliest “Can I help you?” will prompt a “No” in return. Underhill warns that “transition zones,” areas where users are physically moving and psychologically shifting gears, must be honored. The front door is one of the most common and most significant. Users have built momentum from their walk from the parking lot and move through the doors briskly. Putting information such as community bulletins or ads for upcoming programs on the doors is wasted energy. Save that information for areas where patrons commonly stop. Additionally, keep staff back from the doors and let library users enter, adjust, and shift into “I need help” mode before approaching them.

The observation of users at Carnegie has led to the identification of virtual breakpoints as well, which are addressed with web-enabled intervention. For example, when a user finds materials he needs on the library’s OPAC, he clicks through to a map that shows where the items are located on a floor plan of the library.

Rossi says the goal is to “expose the right connections just in time,” providing the right information when the user needs it and no later. At Carnegie, analysis has been used to identify the most appropriate times to connect users to information on other services, moving each patron along on the path to becoming a power user.

Libraries are full of stuff—papers, books, newsletters, materials of all types—and the opportunity to confuse the user with clutter is always at hand. Adding layers of signs can create what Underhill calls “visual cacophony.” He encourages libraries to appoint a “Signage Czar” and give that person the authority to control, categorize, and install every sign of every sort (even the community bulletin board).

Signs need to be grounded in a hierarchy of what they’re meant to do (navigate, advertise, educate, label) and then installed where users can see them, read them, and use them. The hierarchy should include a design template (e.g., all navigation signs look the same) and description of the kind of information that must be included (e.g., all navigation signs include area names and arrows that direct). Think about the signage inside airport terminals in major U.S. cities. Despite the wealth of information that must be delivered (arrival schedules, departure schedules, directions to baggage claim, transportation, rental cars, rest rooms, customs), their consistency and placement allow travelers to see and read them, moving hundreds of people to multiple destinations without confusion.

Carnegie tested the language in signs with library users before launch to ensure each was clear and useful. Underhill advises being careful with graphic design as well as language. With an aging population, average visual acuity is declining: good sign design is more than good looking; it’s readable.

Libraries evolve with the needs of their communities, and a rigid navigation system will soon become obsolete. Once patrons understand patterns, however, they will be able to find whatever they need. Rossi calls it “future proofing,” meaning that as a library changes, patrons won’t be left behind. Constancy also encourages users to try other library services.

“If users can interact with one small part of the library experience and predict how other parts work, it makes them feel powerful,” Rossi says. “They get it and feel comfortable experimenting further.”

Consider Brookdale’s pattern: a user who spends his time in the library’s automotive neighborhood can easily translate his understanding of the library to the small business or homework areas. At Carnegie, a user who uses the OPAC once knows that she’ll be able to translate her search to the library’s physical space for any inquiry.

Rossi’s advice: “Make it so easy to find things that users don’t feel like they need a secret handshake to get around.”

Carnegie and Brookdale undertook dramatic changes as part of major remodeling efforts. However, some of their boldest moves (stripping the library collection by 50 percent, dumping library jargon, etc.) need not hang on physical renovation. Change can be centered on a breakthrough in understanding of what patrons want (to help those breakthroughs along see “The Right Direction,” above). Carnegie and Brookdale report that not only have they energized their patrons, but they’ve energized their staff as well. That kind of spirit is within the reach of all libraries, simply by looking at how users interact with the library’s environment.

“Try something new, take a risk. If it doesn’t work, make changes and do it differently,” advises Rossi. “Carnegie is an experiment in real time, a true learning community on the job!”