Businesses are increasingly recognising the power of information architecture and taxonomies within their digital offerings but they often, and understandably, limit them to specific websites or even specific categories of a website, or at most to their full catalogue of public facing digital spaces. Through work that we’ve undertaken with Kore and as an occasional freelancer in the IA / UX world, I have however, repeatedly been witness to the missed opportunities and failures of organisations, small and (quite frankly) gigantic who limit their taxonomies and the strategic organisation of language purely for click-rate dividends. In our conversations with clients, we propose that the value afforded to organisations is directly proportionate to the scope; to the places and spaces considered within a taxonomic project…and for me, this extends beyond digital.
Your website does not exist in isolation to your other websites.
Section A of your site does not exist in isolation to Sections B and C.
Your websites do not exist in isolation to the rest of the internet.
Your websites do not exist in isolation to your wider organisation: staff team, physical stores, offices, products and services etc.
The introduction of a new digital taxonomy can create change, it can increase sales, it can lead to better wayfinding and more enjoyable customer experiences. Building with red bricks is just fine if you recognise that what you build or commission does not exist in isolation. We all know this, but a user’s understanding of language, the world and your organisation is not limited to your website because there is a wider ecosystem of information within which it exists. It’s comprised of other environments, systems, structures and taxonomies, some of which or none of which were created by you and your crack commando unit of digitally native employees.
When systems reside within larger ecosystems of information there exists an inevitable taxonomic disparity; a failure of understanding creating gaps and missed opportunities for organisations and organisms, competing taxonomies that limit the impact and success of well-invested taxonomy projects. Taxonomists, UX researchers and information architects plan for this: hours of research ploughed into understanding users’ intentions, motives, habits and linguistic tendencies but the best laid plans of mice and men. Organisations change, develop, merge, takeover, acquire, create new products and services that were unforeseen even a few years ago and with every iteration taxonomies collide.
We encounter taxonomic disparity like this every day. Until recently, the following four terms each had a specific ontology, or as my friend Dan Klyn says: “What we mean when we say X”. Then the world reels from the effect of a global refugee crisis and today, due to a common disregard for these terms and their meanings, the prevailing public understanding perceives these as equivalents within a broader taxonomy of fear.
Migrant.
Illegal Immigrant.
Refugee.
Asylum Seeker.
Whichever brand of politics you find affinity with, this taxonomic failure of understanding has wide reaching implications that we’re only beginning to see the effects of due to competing taxonomies in politics and media.
I consider this a lesson to be heeded for taxonomists and UX professionals, myself included. Off-the-cuff decisions made while creating the design behind the design have far reaching consequences, and in the pursuit of understanding, we have an ethical responsibility to inform and educate, not just list more synonyms. These four terms do not mean the same thing, at best they are ‘related-terms’ but if we continue to make smart business decisions that connect these and other words as interchangeable in our Content Management Systems, we subconsciously undermine definitions every time a user searches for asylum seeker and find an article on illegal immigrants or are told ‘You might like Taylor Swift’ when streaming the latest Kanye track.
We may experience this disparity in global politics, our frustrations with music recommendations, or when we make an enquiry or complaint with a service provider. A cursory look at the website for my local council surfaces browsable categories of services to help find the service I’m looking for. However, unrepresented in the public wayfinding is the internal structure of the Council which is divided into three primary internal directorates:
1. Corporate Services
2. People
3. Place