Rules for Dot-makers, or: How Not to Piss People Off With Your App’s Blue Dot

When it comes to new products from established platforms, the fine details are subjected to the brutal judgement of all kinds of user testing before they see the light of day. And yet, several recent products (Snapchat Discover, Twitter Moments, for example) have launched with a component that it is fair to say most hate: the dot-that-tells-you-there’s-something-new.

The nagging dot is the mobile equivalent of the HTML<blink> tag. It is easy to implement, mildly insulting, and yet (at least temporarily) effective in grabbing attention. That little dot sets off a difficult-to-ignore “important! clear that!” pattern in my brain, trained by years of email. I tap it almost automatically, and with a little reluctance, try out your new feature.

Our current period of mobile design language could be compared to the just-post-Geocities era of the web, so maybe this jarringly blunt instrument is to be expected. But I know the people behind these products (like me!) mostly aspire to build purposeful, humane software — so how does this happen?

Throwing a dot over something you want me to tap is a common kind of solipsism in attention-harvesting products: it presumes that I want what your company wants. There is a narrow margin in which the dot meets my desires (to know that that friend-of-a-friend I’ve been digitally flirting with liked the photo of me in new sunglasses) and yours as a platform (to have me click on a casual acquaintance’s profile, then view a full year of photos, then tap through to some mutual friend, and 30 minutes forget that life occurs anywhere but inside your platform).

Few product makers bother to find this sweet spot, defaulting to their own imperatives to get and keep quantifiable attention. This a critical failure of empathy. So, a few guidelines for my fellow dot makers:

• The dot should signify a genuine change of state. When I get to the other side of the dot, I should immediately see what item(s) that dot correlated with.
• The dot should respond to a compelling completion of the sentence “Let me know when …” Consider carefully what someone might be delighted to know about from their perspective, not the platform’s. That quantitative testing has judged me likely to stick around for 60 more seconds is not reason enough on its own.
• The dot should disappear once I am likely to have seen it.
• The dot is golden if it indicates inbound human interaction. If the consequence of not having the dot is that you could disappoint a friend (by not responding to their message, seeing something they shared 1:1 with you), etc, then by all means, there should be a dot. Maybe even a number!
• The dot cannot sell me something (looking at you, Evernote). This is absolute poison: I thought it was the dopamine delivery man ringing the doorbell, but no, it was a used car salesman, phony smile and all.

Perhaps tellingly, Android has taken the strong opinion that badging (adding the dot) to app icons is not something developers can be trusted with. The software simply doesn’t allow you to put a notification dot outside the app at all, a draconian measure that also gives Google enormous influence over notifications, some of the most important surface area in mobile.

I don’t think we need to have all the dots taken away like that, but please, let’s use them with more responsibility and empathy.

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