An interesting example of an almost useless message.
The message tells me that it’s from “Microsoft AutoUpdate” – so at least I know it’s something to do with Microsoft.
It also tells me “Failed to install update.” This is less useful. What update? Why did it fail? What can I do about it?
Messages like this are very egocentric. Microsoft assumes that their application (or driver, or whatever it is that’s failed to update) is at the forefront of my mind and that I know what it is. But it isn’t and I don’t.
Messages like this are damaging to the brand. I see this one frequently, and it annoys me frequently, and each time I see it I like Microsoft less.
Error messages matter. They are an essential form of communication with the user. They say something important. In this case, the message is saying that Microsoft really doesn’t care what’s happened, and that I’m on my own.
Furthermore, the lack of a button means that I have to click the little “dismiss” icon at top left to get rid of the message.
Oddly enough, the only reason I turned on AutoUpdate for Microsoft products was that I was so annoyed by the dialog box prompting me to check for updates immediately after I’d completed a manual update.
Perhaps Microsoft can argue that the message “belongs” to the MacOS and is somehow Apple’s responsibility or fault.
This error message is perfect because it does *everything* wrong.
An error message should:
- Explain what happened
- Explain why it happened
- Enable you to fix the problem.
This message implies that the user had signed in with a mobile (cellphone) number. I hadn’t. Even if I had, it’s unclear why this should be a problem. The solution offered is to “Logout”.
An organisation should use consistent language. Here, we have “sign in” and “logout” – a clear indication that there is internal dysfunction and disconnection.
A key component of a trusted website is good grammar. Here we have “a Optus Mobile number” instead of “an Optus Mobile number” and “Member Services” treated as singular (“Member Services is only…”). Probably the rationale for the latter is that “Member Services” is an entity of some sort, but it’s clearly a case of the organisation speaking its language rather than that of the user.
The message also has two conflicted personas. The first is the one that opens with “Hi” – it’s the voice that Optus uses in its advertising, and even in its installation guides. When everything is fine, that tone can be acceptable, but when things go pear-shaped, it quickly sounds insincere, flippant or blatantly uncaring.
The internal focus is also apparent in the sentence: “If you are attempting to Sign In with your Optus Internet username…” which assumes that the user knows what an Optus Internet username is. I can only speak from my own experience, and I don’t know what it is (nor do I even have an Optus mobile phone number, so that part of the message is doubly confusing).
In fact, the whole message is so bizarre that the fact that the referenced “Logout” button “in the top right of your screen” does not in fact exist seems only incidental, a mere peccadillo amidst a multitude of other sins.
Source: Sony Ericsson
Apparently this accessory will say nice things about my lifestyle.
It’s easy to let grammatical bloopers slip through. Writers and editors need to watch out for homophones like compliment/complement, principal/principle and stationery/stationary.
Source: Some image uploader.
Mismatches between text and avaiable buttons can be very confusing. A common example is having “OK” and “Cancel” as options when the question asked requires an answer of “Yes” or “No”. Although that’s perhaps grammatically annoying rather than highly confusing.
This little example, however, is a gem. Selecting “Cancel” doesn’t cancel the upload, but selecting “Yes” does. I think.