« The Postive Implications of Incoming Objects | Main | Form, Packaging »

Sounds of the City

Tokyo is increasingly resonating to the sound of money changing hands.

Or to be more precise - to the sound of prepaid Edy cashless money transactions. And it’s happening at supermarket check-outs, convenience stores and fast food joints - pretty much anywhere with queues that could be shortened by reducing the time it takes to process customer transactions.

If you’re wondering what a cashless payment sounds like and have the patience of a saint visit this flash animation, click on the start button, wait until the dog with the e-ears rents the porn movies, saunters up to the cash register and pays with his mobile phone - that's the sound of a cashless Edy transaction.

And if you can’t be bothered wading through the flash animation - it sounds like the tchariiing of coins hitting a metal bowl (it is not, however the kerching of an old style cash register).

But back to business - given that the Edy designers had the opportunity to design the user experience from the ground up - why did they choose that sound to play at that exact moment in the transaction, and at that volume, and for that duration? What does the sound signify? And to whom?

To get the obvious out of the way - the tchariiing signifies the successful transfer of money from the pre-paid card or phone to the retailer, the completion of a financial transaction. It also serves as an advertisement for itself - reminding everyone within a few meters that, yes, there are more convenient ways to pay. If you want to get people into the habit of using a new technology using ambient audio is actually quite a powerful reminder.

It is likely that Edy will eventually be used by a high percentage of the Japanese population. Once the mainstream is familiar with the significance of the tchariiing what scope is there for introducing new sounds into the pre-paid cashless vocabulary? What is the aural equivalent of moving from a one button mouse to two buttons or more?

What sounds will you hear as you wait for your turn at the cash register in the future perfect?

The future perfect tchariiing may well communicate: the amount of money that was just spent; that you have a healthy balance left on the card; or that your credit has almost run out - acting as a reminder to top up; it could communicate the currency being spent; or that you’ve subscribed to a card that offers other (premium) services; it could communicate what has been bought - confirming to people in the queue behind you that you lead an (un)healthy lifestyle; the calorie count of the contents of your basket; or the carbon footprint or your purchase.

A pre-paid ‘gifted’ by an organization might have monies assigned for a particular purpose: to buy basic foodstuffs but, alas, not alcohol or rizlas or porn, and use the audio feedback as a social mechanism to inforce compliance. Different aural feedback is certainly feasible - when the Tokyo metro ticket barriers authenticate an adult fare they beep, when a child-fare goes through the same barrier it makes the cheep cheep cheep of birds singing. (And when a gaggle of school kids pass through it sounds like a veritable menagerie).

Given that cashless payments are persistent the card could store its owner’s interaction preferences - the tchariiing could communicate the cultural background of its owner; or her musical tastes; or that she prefers the " ", silence - no feedback at all.

For all these things that could be, what are the likely barriers to adoption?

How does differentiating the audio experience increase the likelihood of fraud? Or increase the risk of being mugged? Or serve to overly embarrass? (A degree of embarrassment may be desirable - used by its owner as a form of temptation management). What personal, contextual and cultural differences will mean that feedback that is OK in one situation, inappropriate in another?

During a recent wallet mapping exercise in Istanbul, students were asked to lay everything from their wallet or purse out on the table - with the exception of items they felt awkward about sharing. Without actually having to reveal what those items were, students were asked to explain why they didn’t want to share certain item. One student politely declined to take the money from his wallet and place it on the table - lest the relatively large volume be interpreted as showing off.

And how might the seller wish to manipulate the audio feedback - to whip customers up into a purchasing frenzy? How will it all play out? It's your future - you decide.

And the photos? A delightfully humid Shibuya. The long Tokyo evenings are a fine backdrop our steady preparation - the team heads to China in a few days time - on the first leg of a multicultural research study that will take us to the four corners of the globe.

Writing from Tokyo | May 21, 2007 | Permalink