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We’ve been talking this week about the little things in design, those small pieces that must come together to create the big experience. When they go AWOL, customers get frustrated. As I wrote on Tuesday, no hardware; no bookshelf.

Yesterday, Paul mentioned a few things designers could do to prevent or mitigate the damage from missing parts. In today’s post, I want to draw attention to his second white-hat solution: using standardized parts in designs.

There are a lot of non-standard parts floating around today’s designs: strange battery types; odd Scandinavian screws; hacky code. These may allow the designer more freedom (or just make their job easier), but they take freedom away from the end-user.

If a customer can’t wait for the company to respond with a missing part, they should be able to go to the store and quickly get a replacement. Whenever possible, using standardized parts instead of that 15/16? septagonal bolt is bound to save the day even when your company can’t.

But standards alone aren’t enough. It is possible to use standardized pieces that customers can’t understand and/or easily replace at the store. I’m talking about proprietary standards.

Proprietary vs. Open Standards

A proprietary standard is something that is certainly not a one-off part, but it is a closed system—a single vendor controls it. It’s a way of getting you to keep coming back to a company for parts, whether you need them to fix your mistake or theirs. Those Microsoft libraries for your web app or cell phone chargers for your iPhone are common enough, but it’s not like they are universal. You can’t swap these parts with other things you have around. Moreover, it is possible to have a standardized part with proprietary access. That screw might be typical, but if the head needs a special Nintendo screwdriver, it’s impossible to tell what to get to replace a lost one. Your neighbor can’t come over and fix it your Gameboy if she can’t open it up.

Open standards, then, are the way to go. The parts or accessories a customer needs to enjoy your design should be available. Failing this, they should also be findable and cognizable. In other words, Phillips-head screws, AA batteries, USB, open source standards-compliant CSS—these are good things.

Enter the Matrix

Let’s formalize this:

Imagine there’s a piece missing in the little plastic baggie that came with your latest purchase. Let’s look at the situation under four different conditions:

Open standards are best. They offer the most ways for you or anyone else to help fix your broken user experience. You’ve probably got what you need around the house or at your local store. There are so many options available, you can spend a lot or a little, as you like.

Proprietary standards are okay. A company makes your part for many of its products, so it’s not like it’s impossible to find one. Expect to pay for the privilege, though. Apple Store, anyone?

Non-standard open parts are less okay. It is probably a one-off or uncommon part, but at least someone is nice enough to tell you as much. Maybe they’ve got directions for how to make or modify one, so you or one of your smarter friends can still make it work. Time to fire up the iron smelter.

Non-standard proprietary parts are the worst. If you can figure out what you need, you will certainly be at the mercy of the company who made it. Presuming they still make the piece, it’s not likely something a store would stock. You’ll have to call and order it special and even then you might not be able to install it yourself. You’re in a spot you shouldn’t be in — some designer dropped the ball.