Actually, make that two tricks, because Yummly came up with a different one for desktop and mobile. Go Yummly! Here is what happens when basic business, or marketing, decisions are made without considering the experience of, you know, users. Or customers, as we were once called.
Here's the use case: I wanted to make bearnaise sauce but realized we had no tarragon. There was but one thing that I could do, of course, which was to Google “bearnaise sauce without tarragon”*. The first search result was Yummly:
Fantastic! Just what I was looking for.
OK, I guess I'll try the first recipe.
At some point, someone at a company called Yummly decided that the way to monetize recipes is to collect them in an app. That sounds good if you completely ignore your potential customers' reality: They are searching for recipes, of which there are several lifetimes' worth right there on the Internet, in your browser. The idea that you should want to search Yummly's recipes separately, in a dedicated app, is ridiculous. There is zero value to me in cluttering up my phone with an app just to get content I can get ten times over in my browser.
Just out of curiosity, I thought I'd download the damned app, if for no other reason than to make sure there wasn't some actual value proposition the company had failed to communicate to me. What happened next will shock you. Keep reading for the unbelievable conclusion. But first, let's head over to “desktop” to see what Yummly has assembled for me there. Maybe I can get a [REDACTED] recipe?
Desktop land, here we go!
Thanks to some no doubt next-level SEO fu, Yummly is number one in Google again for this particular search (screen shot). I click it, and this time Yummly doesn't waste a landing page. Instead, it goes directly to failure:
Someone at Yummly really thought you'd want to log in to your social media accounts, or give them your e-mail address, to see their recipe search results! That's cute.
Executive takeaway: If you want people to give you something — money, effort, access to their Facebook accounts — you have to offer something of value in return.
The design is open and inviting. It's appetizing even, what with the delicious bearnaise sauce in the background. However, UX is not graphic design. And design can't save the fundamental and predictable user experience problem here: There is no earthly reason why anyone should need to sign in just to see a recipe. Not even that, actually — Yummly wants you to set up an account (or “connect”) to see a list of search results that may or may not have the recipe you want. Y'know, kind of like Google, where, after I use my back button, I can peruse hundreds of similar search results without logging in or giving Yummly my e-mail address so they can spam me.
When you're in any kind of Web project, it's easy for basic business practice to get lost in marketing-speak and design fads. You have to offer something of value, something that's not easily available somewhere else. And, if you want people to make any kind of commitment, like downloading an app or creating an account, you have to give them a reason. This is not rocket science, yet it often drowns in gobbledygook about engagement and social-media strategies.
Nonetheless! Drum roll: How about that app?
I lied: There is no shocking conclusion. More precisely, I pulled a bait and switch. Kind of like Yummly. What happened when I downloaded the app was just underwhelming — a limp, flat, flopping meh. Why? Because, after all those speed bumps they put in my way, there was nothing to it but a recipe (with tarragon, which is exactly what I asked for it not to have). The same kind of recipe you find all over the Internet, only now in an app. Completely unnecessary, Yummly.
“Start cooking recipes and food I want now.” As if I couldn't just go ahead and do those things without this app?
Translation: You want to mine my social-media accounts. I spy a little “X” in the upper-right corner, though …
Yes! A back door — if you weren't paying attention, you'd think “connecting” were required, but apparently it's not.
That last little bit, by the way, is an example of a dark pattern: A UI trick to steer you towards a choice you're don't notice you're making. Unless you're deliberately paying attention to how this works, you'd assume “connecting” were required.
On second visit? The brick wall. Connect, or no recipes for you.
You might object that the closing “X” is obvious. Well, sorry, it's not, and more importantly, it's not obvious that it bypasses the “connecting” step. The only generic meaning of those close buttons is “close this overlay“. If Yummly really wanted to be honest, they'd include a "No thanks" option under the connection options. They didn't, for a reason.
In any event, it would make no difference: The second time I opened the app, it was clear there is no using the app without “connecting”. The close button is gone. In other words, in order to get recipes from Yummly you have to at least set up an account. Why would you do that? There's no unique value proposition, no return on that investment.
That recipe I was looking for? Didn't find it, which is not surprising (see footnote). I did notice, of course, that Yummly's Google search entry promised me not only a recipe for bearnaise sauce without tarragon, and not only did it promise me ten of them — it promised me ten of the best. “10 Best Bearnaise Sauce Without Tarragon”, which became … zero. There were none on Yummly, so not only did they bait and switch to get me to install an app, they did it by promising content they didn't have.
Don't be like Yummly. Consider how your business plan is going to play when you have an actual user at the other end.
* I know, foodies, there's no such thing. Bearnaise sauce without tarragon is hollandaise. I was in a hurry, OK? My hope was that I'd find a recipe with a substitute for tarragon. (I didn't.)
