It’s common to think of a form as a vehicle for getting data from one source into a system or a process. But really, a form substitutes for a conversation. There was a time when someone who wanted to request services from a government could just find the right person, verbally describe their situation, and the person on the other side of the desk would do their best to answer the request. But that doesn’t scale, of course. So we came up with having people fill in forms to provide answers to questions, which these days, leads to entering that data into computer systems.
In a world where we have to collect information directly from people so they can apply to register to vote (among other government services), there must be forms. Forms substitute for a conversation. Imagine if every voter came to your office to register and you asked them the questions verbally rather than having them fill out a form. What might you ask differently from what your form asks?
We have looked at this quite a bit, actually. (In fact, in workshops to redesign forms, we have people playing the role of the voter registration form. It’s hilarious and instructive at the same time.)
In the conversation that the form represents, there are two very different perspectives, two different sets of goals, and two very different sets of vocabulary. From the point of view of the person filling the form, they are constantly (though usually subconsciously) wondering, What are you asking me, really?
People filling forms are wondering, as they do, What is the question asking me? How will my answer be used? Who is asking the question? What’s the risk of answering the question?
If form fillers are asking that question, it is likely that your question isn’t clear.
Recently, we ran into a situation where in one context, asking the form filler if they were at least 16 years of age was exactly right. But in a different situation, in a different context, it didn’t make sense to ask whether the form filler was 16, because no one under 18 years of age would actually be in the context where the form was being filled out.
Let’s compare the situations: Someone registering to vote at the DMV, where they’re getting their first driver’s license versus someone in a polling place filling out a provisional ballot application form that gets used as voter registration, too.
As you’re designing a voter registration form (or any form!) think in terms of relationship, risk, and reward.
Happy National Voter Registration Day from the team at the Center for Civic Design!
Keep up the good work.
This was originally published in our Civic Designing newsletter. Subscribe on Mailchimp to get election design tips delivered to your mailbox.