Dublin UX: Dangerous Buttons
Something’s got to be done about the Luas’ emergency buttons
There are some problems in this world which can seem insurmountable. And then there are some problems which seem to be deliberate and foolish things put in place to try us.
In Dublin, one of our public transport services is trams. The service is called the Luas – meaning “speed” – and is one of the best ways to get around. It’s fast, comfortable, and reliable. It’s also so popular that during busy periods it is packed to the brim, with people pressed together tighter than sardines in a tin.
Should anything go wrong, should someone fall, be assaulted, or suffer heat stroke… whatever the emergency, every car is fitted with an emergency brake and an intercom to connect you to the driver.
Now it’s a fine standard system, and these units can be found next to the doors, should they be needed. In the same carriage however you may notice a variation on this design.
Please notice the crucial difference in design (scroll down on mobile). Both of these units have buttons which on long press will activate the intercom. Both of these units have these buttons placed just above the hand rails, at elbow height. One of the buttons is finger-sized, and recessed, requiring a deliberate push. The other is the large mushroom-type we imagine being found in a missile silo’s control room.
There is a possibility that this variation of the intercom was made on the justification that the larger yellow button was more accessible. It can be pressed more easily by different parts of the body, and is more conspicuous. However, it is already placed at an accessible height, and the small-buttoned version even provides pictograms for comprehension. Should no one be able to operate the intercom in the event of empty car (which is very rare), there is the failsafe of the CCTV.
It is baffling to me. Not only is it poorly placed – again right at the average adult’s elbow height – but, it is also more attractive to curious children. The fine notice being placed directly above it seems to invite challenge. It’s not even shielded like the brake pull is.
It may seem a minor matter to rant about, and ranting I am, but every time I find myself pressed into this corner, often tired and carrying a something heavy, I’m grateful to have a little rail to lean on for the next thirty minutes. And I am in constant fear of hitting this large, inviting, spring-action mushroomoid and incurring the fine.
It’s happened twice now that I’ve activated it without realising, and I can’t be the only one. It’s a source of anxiety to the users of the Luas, and must be a source of frustration to the drivers.
It’s a simple problem, with a simple fix. Ditch the mushroomoid.
Version 1: Straightforward and requires a conscious action to press
Version 2: A large mushroomoid with a hefty fine attached.
