everything they need, nothing that they don't
I’ve always had a fascination with the discipline of “wayfinding,” which is a term describing the ways architects, city planners, designers, and artists make it as easy as possible for people to navigate unfamiliar places.
Think back to the last time you visited an amusement park, attended a sporting event or large concert, or passed through an airport or a public transportation system. These venues are visited by tens of thousands of people in a single day, many of whom have never been there before. For the enjoyment and safety of everyone, it’s critical (and, in many cases, legally required) that there be clear, visible, and authoritative signage physically present to help people get around the space and find what they’re looking for.
What’s fascinating to me is that wayfinding is so frequently context-specific. Rather than just posting maps of the whole airport, amusement park, or stadium, wayfinding is based much more around where you, the visitor, are standing at that moment. From there, the best wayfinding provides clear signage and path markings for the most likely things you might want to do, information you might need to know, or places you might want to go, based on the simple fact that you’re in that specific spot at that specific time.
It reminds me of being a kid in the pre-smartphone area, and how we used to provide one another personal wayfinding information. I grew up in the 80s, and if I were trying to tell a friend how to get from their house to my house, I couldn’t just fire up Google Maps on my phone—my phone was a landline, permanently connected to the wall of my family’s kitchen. I also wouldn’t pull out a Rand McNally road atlas, or visit my local American Automobile Association chapter to build a customized TripTik.
Instead, I would draw my friend a little map. I’d put some landmarks on there—maybe the streets they would need to go onto to get to my house, a couple of notable buildings they would pass along the way, and maybe some other context as needed. What they’d be left with is a piece of paper that contained everything they needed, and nothing that they didn’t.
This is what we should aspire to include in the communications we show to our audiences. Sharing all of our data and all of our analysis in our presentation slides is like putting a giant, static satellite map at the entrance to an amusement park, and expecting that to be sufficient for visitors to find their way.
Far from being enough, that map would be overwhelming and way too detailed, and would only cause frustration and confusion. After all, when you’re in unfamiliar territory, you just want someone to point you towards what you need and where you’re supposed to go.
Keep this model in mind when you create slides or graphs for your audience:
Follow the principles of wayfinding—give people only as much as they need, based on where they are. By putting yourself in the shoes of the people listening to your presentation and thinking about what they need, you’ll better position the content you deliver to meet their specific interests.
Literally and figuratively, a simplified, custom map is easier to follow than a comprehensive and detailed one. A satellite map, while absorbing and visually interesting, contains so much detail that it can overwhelm and distract your audience. Start instead from a literal blank page, and think critically about what information needs to be included in the specific map you’re creating—and more importantly, what can be left out.
With this approach, much like the wayfinding systems we’ve grown to rely upon, your presentations will be even better positioned to provide the timely direction and guidance your audience needs.