Hiring seasoned government workers. Sharing testimonials of your clients. Ostensibly supporting “good” causes. And drinking allegedly poisonous tea on TV. All to make a case to prove we are who we are or we are not who they claim us to be. To create an illusion to maintain some sort of transactional dynamic between us and the receiving party. Like being a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen or a constituent or a user. All to score and store trust, which is a currency—spent, earned, and manipulated.

Going into a narrower alley, looking at digital products through the lenses of trust reveals a similar story. Mostly, a great effort goes into convincing potential users of a certain image of a brand or a product. Sometimes, it’s grounded in facts, and the illusion is not so distorted and the product is indeed superior. Other times, what’s promised is not what actually is. You feel as if more thought had been put into coating a bland cake with sprinkles and all. By relying on the link between building an appearance and gaining trust, fueled by how it’s easier than designing an actual working solution, we end up seeing more frustrated users than ever before. Many products are seemingly okayish, but far away from providing any value.

As marketing could be the culprit, a bit more sinister -therefore seemingly more effective- approach in earning trust is using design to make products look trustworthy, using it as glue to hold breaking parts together until users have committed deep. Trust in digital products is increasingly seen as a product of design function—some even claim they can “imbue” trust into UX. But design doesn’t create trust; it simply reflects it. For sure, design when wielded thoughtfully can distill meaning into technical solutions and birth a relatable experience for users to trigger positive emotions. But, as opposed to what’s generally been said, it in fact could only act as a prism that takes the source light from your technical prowess and organisational code. Without a firm foundation in either, design can not give what you do not have: trustworthiness.

When we speak about trust in UX, we mainly talk about a non-lying, honest-looking experience that has no interest in directing users to dark valleys where they eventually succumb to pay -sometimes out of desperation and sometimes without realising it. A trustworthy experience aims to be clear and succinct in owning its mistakes, pledging to do nothing confusing in its relationship with users. Offering a mindfully supportive medium to help users achieve what they need, or better solve their worldly needs.

Though it’s hard to describe and a number of viable definitions could be easily put forward, trusting a tool, does not fall far away from trusting a human being. Trusting a product mirrors trusting a human: getting what you promised, knowing you won’t be alone when it gets hard, feeling safe while being wrong and so on. These expectations are not solemnly met with technical prowess. Technology can not directly answer our needs as we’ve always needed a mediator in our relationship with technology. It can only work in a specific way when pointed in that direction through design. Design can make tools humane and convince users to trust them. However, solving a set of math equations and sugarcoating it with shiny screens would not be enough. It could create the needed illusion but for a limited time only. Infused sincerity and user-orientedness are essential in building a product that is worthy of trust. And this infusion, by relying on design, is attainable if you’re a trustworthy organisation. Because what you design is actually who you are as an organisation and how you act in your interactions. The atomic essence of your design and, therefore, your products can be found in every decision, policy, and micro-interaction within your organization, all leaving fingerprints on what users experience. Trust doesn’t begin with the UX or UI; it begins with the company’s DNA.

The way how and abiding by which principles two nodes of your corporate network interact with each other can decisively morph into a bit of your product. So, no matter how much resource you pour into making things different than they are, in the end, the reality surfaces. In creating trust, therefore, essentially your organisational code and the characteristics you cultivated along the way play a far greater role.

Being clear builds trust. No one wants a lengthy, aimless speech at any time. So few of us want to spend more than necessary time while trying to achieve something. In communication and in decision-making, clarity is trust. Scraping jargon means trust. Also, as rational beings, we look for, depending on our cognitive acumen, a certain level of rationality when we’re expected to hold our end of a bargain. We intrinsically demand an answer to the question of why or answer it internally based on our beliefs or understanding. Yet, in any way, we want to expect clarity in logic if we’re to act on anything. Once this demand of ours is met, especially without us asking “the” question, trust is built.

Optimisation builds trust. Proving that something long could be cut short or changing the perception of time in doing a particular action amazes people. Instant bank transfers, last-mile deliveries, renting a house via online platforms. These time-bending shortcuts were embraced massively once they were reliable enough. And the inventors commercially enjoyed their rightfully earned trust.

Innovation builds trust. Inventing something out of thin air or making some utopia possible brings you closer to your audience. From genome editing to commercial jet planes -you decide how far it gets- accessible innovation definitely leads people to trust its inventors through sheer amazement.

Owning your mistakes builds trust. Goes without saying, transparency goes a long way in keeping your users with you or at least giving you a chance to make up for your missteps. Blaming others or staying silent, no matter how you design your products would lose you users.

Design as a mid-layer on top of your mindset, capabilities, and vision, acts like a single point of contact and presents a coherent picture, veiling otherwise dealbreaker weaknesses. Its ceiling, on the other hand, is a function of the scrappiness you keep under the rug. It may show bad as good, or good as slightly better.

Users do not naturally scrutinise products whether they’re innovative enough or offer real optimisations. In their limited time of interaction, they make up their minds mostly unconsciously checking their instincts and feelings while engaging with screens. There is no correlation between how much they trust an app and how well it’s designed. These rather primitive instincts stem from certain experiences they’ve gone through over time. Users’ verdict on clarity, innovation, optimisation, or owning mistakes is not a result of their meticulous inspections, but instead, their top of head ideas when they inquire how they feel about a certain product. For them, a product works:

If it’s solving a genuine need.
If it never breaks. Or rarely breaks.
If it never leaves me in the dark in case it breaks.
If it clearly explains what’s going on when something is off.
If it talks to me about any changes before me learn from somewhere else.
If I feel care in its approach to support.
If it also works for my friends and family.

You can use design to make up for what you lack in these points. You can show a mini interaction that would make me feel that the page loading is taking shorter than it really is. Or make a little gesture and a slight redirection to cover the fact that your DB is overloaded without me realising it. Yet, that would only give you a few seconds or months of oxygen, no more.

If you’re not trustworthy, relying on design will provide a marginal uplift or a momentary relief. If you’re in your relationship with your employers, partners, and ecosystem; sooner or later you’ll earn your users’ trust. Design can actually lend you a hand and help bring your trustworthiness into your products. This is not to say if you’re a good kid and do good things, your product will be nice. But it’s more about how you see what people value, and their perception of trust, and how you approach them. Use the design for this. Use it to articulate yourself or choose a heading after building a sound foundation. But do not expect it to transform who you are. In that case, eventually, you’ll end up having a design resembling you, not building trust.