Designing for the Next Generation

Last weekend, I took my 7-year-old daughter to the store. It was a quick errand—just a few things for the house. We navigated the aisles, she picked out some snacks, and then we made our way to checkout. As we stood in line at the self-checkout, I looked around and saw a scene that felt almost dystopian.

Adults filed in place, shoulders hunched, eyes locked on their phones. Among the beeps and boops, we were met with a robotic voice coming from the self-checkout machine: "Scan your items now." When a shopper next to us ran into an issue, a young employee with a lanyard trudged over, tapped the screen without a word, and walked away. No one looked up, no conversation—just people interacting with machines in silence, waiting for their turn to leave.

You might say, “Well yeah, that’s just how shopping is these days.” And maybe it is. But in that moment, I glanced down at my daughter. She was watching, observing how the world worked. What was she learning? That shopping is a solitary experience? That efficiency outweighs human connection? That eye contact, small talk, or even a simple acknowledgment between people isn’t necessary?

This isn’t an argument against self-checkout or automation. I appreciate convenience as much as anyone. But as I stood there with my daughter, I couldn’t help but wonder: what can we do differently? As designers, we hold the blueprints. The interfaces we create shape behavior, set expectations, and, in many ways, teach the next generation how the world operates. How can we design systems that don’t just remove friction, but also foster small, meaningful human interactions?

The digital dilemma
Technology is rapidly changing the way we experience the world and how we interact with one another—parents scrolling at the playground while their kids call for attention, couples at restaurants staring at their screens instead of each other. These small moments of disconnection add up, shaping the way children perceive human interaction.

Regardless of technology’s benefits to society, it is worth being aware of the harm it is also generating. BMC Public Health published a report describing how this “technoference,” or technology interference, is disrupting our interpersonal relationships with friends, families, and children. Their synthesis of hundreds of articles concludes that technology is negatively affecting our children’s mental health and leading to violent behavior in adolescents. Kids learn from watching how we interact with one another, making it our responsibility to model this behavior appropriately. Yet more and more, our environments are lacking these serve-and-return interactions, where a child’s actions elicit the response of a parent or adult. The rise in anxiety, depression, and attention disorders in children is well documented and the blame cannot be cast merely on the children suffering from these issues. It is in part caused by our own digitally distracted lives.

As researcher Kathryn Peckham puts it, “Children are simply being set up to fail.”

Our responsibility

So what can we keep in mind as we craft experiences? Some considerations:

• Expanding Our Research Lens – Are we considering the perspectives of children or other secondary users in our research? Conducting observational studies or interviews with kids can offer fresh insights into how they interpret and engage with automated environments. As no surprise, LEGO’s child-centric research model of co-creation and play testing has been successful and led to their creation of more inclusive ideas like LEGO Friends.
   
• Designing for Second-Order Users – Beyond the primary customer, who else is influenced by the experience? Creating personas for secondary users—like children watching their parents or store employees managing the machines—can help us design more holistic interactions. Google Workspace considers secondary users through its “working hours” feature, encouraging users to define boundaries to protect family time.
   
• Rethinking Metrics for Success – How do we measure the impact of an experience? Instead of solely optimizing for speed and efficiency, what if we tracked metrics in regards to human connection—eye contact, verbal exchanges, or moments of playfulness? The Light Phone prioritizes simplicity over addictive features, minimizing distractions and encouraging users to stay present in their daily lives.
   
• Embedding Social Design Principles – Can we design interfaces that encourage interaction rather than isolation? Whether through ambient prompts that invite conversation or subtle cues that foster acknowledgment, we can nudge behavior toward connection. One example that comes to mind is the Texas-based grocery chain, H-E-B. While self-checkouts are available, staff are always present, fostering a sense of human connection. Activities for kids and a disaster relief program further strengthen their local ties to the community.
   
• Creating Spaces for Shared Experience – Physical environments matter. Could self-checkouts be arranged in ways that invite brief social moments, rather than reinforcing individual silos? Small spatial changes can shift behavioral norms over time. Can an Apple Store feel too crowded and hectic at times? Sure, but Apple Stores are designed to encourage product and human interaction, not just efficiency.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do know this: our kids are watching. The way we design today is shaping their expectations for tomorrow. If we want a future where people engage with each other, where eye contact and kindness aren’t relics of the past, we need to be intentional about the choices we make now.

Because when my daughter grows up and takes her child to the store, I hope they see a world where technology enhances human connection, rather than replaces it.