rowid,title,contents,year,author,author_slug,published,url,topic 150,"A Gift Idea For Your Users: Respect, Yo","If, indeed, it is the thought that counts, maybe we should pledge to make more thoughtful design decisions. In addition to wowing people who use the Web sites we build with novel features, nuanced aesthetics and the new new thing, maybe we should also thread some subtle things throughout our work that let folks know: hey, I’m feeling ya. We’re simpatico. I hear you loud and clear. It’s not just holiday spirit that moves me to talk this way. As good as people are, we need more than the horizon of karma to overcome that invisible demon, inertia. Makers of the Web, respectful design practices aren’t just the right thing, they are good for business. Even if your site is the one and only place to get experience x, y or zed, you don’t rub someone’s face in it. You keep it free flowing, you honor the possible back and forth of a healthy transaction, you are Johnny Appleseed with the humane design cues. You make it clear that you are in it for the long haul. A peek back: Think back to what search (and strategy) was like before Google launched a super clean page with “I’m Feeling Lucky” button. Aggregation was the order of the day (just go back and review all the ‘strategic alliances’ that were announced daily.) Yet the GOOG comes along with this zen layout (nope, we’re not going to try to make you look at one of our media properties) and a bold, brash, teleport-me-straight-to-the-first-search-result button. It could have been titled “We’re Feeling Cocky”. These were radical design decisions that reset how people thought about search services. Oh, you mean I can just find what I want and get on with it? It’s maybe even more impressive today, after the GOOG has figured out how to monetize attention better than anyone. “I’m Feeling Lucky” is still there. No doubt, it costs the company millions. But by leaving a little money on the table, they keep the basic bargain they started to strike in 1997. We’re going to get you where you want to go as quickly as possible. Where are the places we might make the same kind of impact in our work? Here are a few ideas: Respect People’s Time As more services become more integrated with our lives, this will only become more important. How can you make it clear that you respect the time a user has granted you? User-Oriented Defaults Default design may be the psionic tool in your belt. Unseen, yet pow-er-ful. Look at your defaults. Who are they set up to benefit? Are you depending on users not checking off boxes so you can feel ok about sending them email they really don’t want? Are you depending on users not checking off boxes so you tilt privacy values in ways most beneficial for your SERPs? Are you making it a little too easy for 3rd party applications to run buckwild through your system? There’s being right and then there’s being awesome. Design to the spirit of the agreement and not the letter. See this? Make sure that’s really the experience you think people want. Whenever I see a service that defaults to not opting me in their newsletter just because I bought a t shirt from them, you can be sure that I trust them that much more. And they are likely to see me again. Reduce, Reuse It’s likely that people using your service will have data and profile credentials elsewhere. You should really think hard about how you can let them repurpose some of that work within your system. Can you let them reduce the number of logins/passwords they have to manage by supporting OpenID? Can you let them reuse profile information from another service by slurping in (or even subscribing) to hCards? Can you give them a leg up by reusing a friends list they make available to you? (Note: please avoid the anti-pattern of inviting your user to upload all her credential data from 3rd party sites into your system.) This is a much larger issue, and if you’d like to get involved, have a look at the wiki, and dive in. Make it simple to leave Oh, this drives me bonkers. Again, the more simple you make it to increase or decrease involvement in your site, or to just opt-out altogether, the better. This example from Basecamp is instructive: At a glance, I can see what the implications are of choosing a different type of account. I can also move between account levels with one click. Finally, I can cancel the service easily. No hoop jumping. Also, it should be simple for users to take data with them or delete it. Let Them Have Fun Don’t overlook opportunities for pleasure. Even the most mundane tasks can be made more enjoyable. Check out one of my favorite pieces of interaction design from this past year: Holy knob fiddling, Batman! What a great way to get people to play with preference settings: an equalizer metaphor. Those of a certain age will recall how fun it was to make patterns with your uncle’s stereo EQ. I think this is a delightful way to encourage people to optimize their own experience of the news feed feature. Given the killer nature of this feature, it was important for Facebook to make it easy to fine tune. I’d also point you to Flickr’s Talk Like A Pirate Day Easter egg as another example of design that delights. What a huge amount of work for a one-off, totally optional way to experience the site. And what fun. And how true to its brand persona. Brill. Anti-hype Don’t talk so much. Rather, ship and sample. Release code, tell the right users. See what happens. Make changes. Extend the circle a bit by showing some other folks. Repeat. The more you hype coming features, the more you talk about what isn’t yet, the more you build unrealistic expectations. Your genius can’t possibly match our collective dreaming. Disappointment is inevitable. Yet, if you craft the right melody and make it simple for people to hum your tune, it will spread. Give it time. Listen. Speak the Language of the Tribe It’s respectful to speak in a human way. Not that you have to get all zOMGWTFBBQ!!1 in your messaging. People respond when you speak to them in a way that sounds natural. Natural will, of course, vary according to context. Again, listen in and people will signal the speech that works in that group for those tasks. Reveal those cues in your interface work and you’ll have powerful proof that actual people are working on your Web site. This example of Pownce‘s gender selector is the kind of thing I’m talking about: Now, this doesn’t mean you should mimic the lingo on some cool kidz site. Your service doesn’t need to have a massage when it’s down. Think about what works for you and your tribe. Excellent advice here from Feedburner’s Dick Costolo on finding a voice for your service. Also, Mule Design’s Erika Hall has an excellent talk on improving your word fu. Pass the mic, yo Here is a crazy idea: you could ask your users what they want. Maybe you could even use this input to figure out what they really want. Tools abound. Comments, wikis, forums, surveys. Embed the sexy new Get Satisfaction widget and have a dynamic FAQ running. The point is that you make it clear to people that they have a means of shaping the service with you. And you must showcase in some way that you are listening, evaluating and taking action against some of that user input. You get my drift. There are any number of ways we can show respect to those who gift us with their time, data, feedback, attention, evangelism, money. Big things are in the offing. I can feel the love already.",2007,Brian Oberkirch,brianoberkirch,2007-12-23T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2007/a-gift-idea-for-your-users-respect-yo/,ux 48,A Holiday Wish,"A friend and I were talking the other day about why clients spend more on toilet cleaning than design, and how the industry has changed since the mid-1990s, when we got our starts. Early in his career, my friend wrote a fine CSS book, but for years he has called himself a UX designer. And our conversation got me thinking about how I reacted to that title back when I first started hearing it. “Just what this business needs,” I said to myself, “another phony expert.” Okay, so I was wrong about UX, but my touchiness was not altogether unfounded. In the beginning, our industry was divided between freelance jack-of-all-trade punks, who designed and built and coded and hosted and Photoshopped and even wrote the copy when the client couldn’t come up with any, and snot-slick dot-com mega-agencies that blew up like Alice and handed out titles like impoverished nobles in the years between the world wars. I was the former kind of designer, a guy who, having failed or just coasted along at a cluster of other careers, had suddenly, out of nowhere, blossomed into a web designer—an immensely curious designer slash coder slash writer with a near-insatiable lust to shave just one more byte from every image. We had modems back then, and I dreamed in sixteen colors. My source code was as pretty as my layouts (arguably prettier) and I hoovered up facts and opinions from newsgroups and bulletin boards as fast as any loudmouth geek could throw them. It was a beautiful life. But soon, too soon, the professional digital agencies arose, buying loft buildings downtown, jacking in at T1 speeds, charging a hundred times what I did, and communicating with their clients in person, in large artfully bedecked rooms, wearing hand-tailored Barney’s suits and bringing back the big city bullshit I thought I’d left behind when I quit advertising to become a web designer. Just like the big bad ad agencies of my early career, the new digital agencies stocked every meeting with a totem pole worth of ranks and titles. If the client brought five upper middle managers to the meeting, the agency did likewise. If fifteen stakeholders got to ask for a bigger logo, fifteen agency personnel showed up to take notes on the percentage of enlargement required. But my biggest gripe was with the titles. The bigger and more expensive the agency, the lousier it ran with newly invented titles. Nobody was a designer any more. Oh, no. Designer, apparently, wasn’t good enough. Designer was not what you called someone you threw that much money at. Instead of designers, there were user interaction leads and consulting middleware integrators and bilabial experience park rangers and you name it. At an AIGA Miami event where I was asked to speak in the 1990s, I once watched the executive creative director of the biggest dot-com agency of the day make a presentation where he spent half his time bragging that the agency had recently shaved down the number of titles for people who basically did design stuff from forty-six to just twenty-three—he presented this as though it were an Einsteinian coup—and the other half of his time showing a film about the agency’s newly opened branch in Oslo. The Oslo footage was shot in December. I kept wondering which designer in the audience who lived in the constant breezy balminess of Miami they hoped to entice to move to dark, wintry Norway. But I digress. Shortly after I viewed this presentation, the dot-com world imploded, brought about largely by the euphoric excess of the agencies and their clients. But people still needed websites, and my practice flourished—to the point where, in 1999, I made the terrifying transition from guy in his underwear working freelance out of his apartment to head of a fledgling design studio. (Note: you never stop working on that change.) I had heard about experience design in the 1990s, but assumed it was a gig for people who only knew one font. But sometime around 2004 or 2005, among my freelance and small-studio colleagues, like a hobbit in the Shire, I began hearing whispers in the trees of a new evil stirring. The fires of Mordor were burning. Web designers were turning in their HTML editing tools and calling themselves UXers. I wasn’t sure if they pronounced it “uck-sir,” or “you-ex-er,” but I trusted their claims to authenticity about as far as I trusted the actors in a Doctor Pepper commercial when they claimed to be Peppers. I’m an UXer, you’re an UXer, wouldn’t you like to be an UXer too? No thanks, said I. I still make things. With my hands. Such was my thinking. I may have earned an MFA at the end of some long-past period of soul confusion, but I have working-class roots and am profoundly suspicious of, well, everything, but especially of anything that smacks of pretense. I got exporting GIFs. I didn’t get how white papers and bullet points helped anybody do anything. I was wrong. And gradually I came to know I was wrong. And before other members of my tribe embraced UX, and research, and content strategy, and the other airier consultant services, I was on board. It helped that my wife of the time was a librarian from Michigan, so I’d already bought into the cult of information architecture. And if I wasn’t exactly the seer who first understood how borderline academic practices related to UX could become as important to our medium and industry as our craft skills, at least I was down a lot faster than Judd Apatow got with feminism. But I digress. I love the web and all the people in it. Today I understand design as a strategic practice above all. The promise of the web, to make all knowledge accessible to all people, won’t be won by HTML5, WCAG 2, and responsive web design alone. We are all designers. You may call yourself a front-end developer, but if you spend hours shaving half-seconds off an interaction, that’s user experience and you, my friend, are a designer. If the client asks, “Can you migrate all my old content to the new CMS?” and you answer, “Of course we can, but should we?”, you are a designer. Even our users are designers. Think about it. Once again, as in the dim dumb dot-com past, we seem to be divided by our titles. But, O, my friends, our varied titles are only differing facets of the same bright gem. Sisters, brothers, we are all designers. Love on! Love on! And may all your web pages, cards, clusters, clumps, asides, articles, and relational databases be bright.",2014,Jeffrey Zeldman,jeffreyzeldman,2014-12-18T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2014/a-holiday-wish/,ux 125,Accessible Dynamic Links,"Although hyperlinks are the soul of the World Wide Web, it’s worth using them in moderation. Too many links becomes a barrier for visitors navigating their way through a page. This difficulty is multiplied when the visitor is using assistive technology, or is using a keyboard; being able to skip over a block of links doesn’t make the task of finding a specific link any easier. In an effort to make sites easier to use, various user interfaces based on the hiding and showing of links have been crafted. From drop-down menus to expose the deeper structure of a website, to a decluttering of skip links so as not to impact design considerations. Both are well intentioned with the aim of preserving a good usability experience for the majority of a website’s audience; hiding the real complexity of a page until the visitor interacts with the element. When JavaScript is not available The modern dynamic link techniques rely on JavaScript and CSS, but regardless of whether scripting and styles are enabled or not, we should consider the accessibility implications, particularly for screen-reader users, and people who rely on keyboard access. In typical web standards-based drop-down navigation implementations, the rough consensus is that the navigation should be structured as nested lists so when JavaScript is not available the entire navigation map is available to the visitor. This creates a situation where a visitor is faced with potentially well over 50 links on every page of the website. Keyboard access to such structures is frustrating, there’s far too many options, and the method of serially tabbing through each link looking for a specific one is tedious. Instead of offering the visitor an indigestible chunk of links when JavaScript is not available, consider instead having the minimum number of links on a page, and when JavaScript is available bringing in the extra links dynamically. Santa Chris Heilmann offers an excellent proof of concept in making Ajax navigation optional. When JavaScript is enabled, we need to decide how to hide links. One technique offers a means of comprehensively hiding links from keyboard users and assistive technology users. Another technique allows keyboard and screen-reader users to access links while they are hidden, and making them visible when reached. Hiding the links In JavaScript enhanced pages whether a link displays on screen depends on a certain event happening first. For example, a visitor needs to click a top-level navigation link that makes a set of sub-navigation links appear. In these cases, we need to ensure that these links are not available to any user until that event has happened. The typical way of hiding links is to style the anchor elements, or its parent nodes with display: none. This has the advantage of taking the links out of the tab order, so they are not focusable. It’s useful in reducing the number of links presented to a screen-reader or keyboard user to a minimum. Although the links are still in the document (they can be referenced and manipulated using DOM Scripting), they are not directly triggerable by a visitor. Once the necessary event has happened, like our visitor has clicked on a top-level navigation link which shows our hidden set of links, then we can display the links to the visitor and make them triggerable. This is done simply by undoing the display: none, perhaps by setting the display back to block for block level elements, or inline for inline elements. For as long as this display style remains, the links are in the tab order, focusable by keyboard, and triggerable. A common mistake in this situation is to use visibility: hidden, text-indent: -999em, or position: absolute with left: -999em to position these links off-screen. But all of these links remain accessible via keyboard tabbing even though the links remain hidden from screen view. In some ways this is a good idea, but for hiding sub-navigation links, it presents the screen-reader user and keyboard user with too many links to be of practical use. Moving the links out of sight If you want a set of text links accessible to screen-readers and keyboard users, but don’t want them cluttering up space on the screen, then style the links with position: absolute; left: -999em. Links styled this way remain in the tab order, and are accessible via keyboard. (The position: absolute is added as a style to the link, not to a parent node of the link – this will give us a useful hook to solve the next problem). a.helper { position: absolute; left: -999em; } One important requirement when displaying links off-screen is that they are visible to a keyboard user when they receive focus. Tabbing on a link that is not visible is a usability mudpit, since the visitor has no visible cue as to what a focused link will do, or where it will go. The simple answer is to restyle the link so that it appears on the screen when the hidden link receives focus. The anchor’s :focus pseudo-class is a logical hook to use, and with the following style repositions the link onscreen when it receives the focus: a.helper:focus, a.helper.focus { top: 0; left: 0; } This technique is useful for hiding skip links, and options you want screen-reader and keyboard users to use, but don’t want cluttering up the page. Unfortunately Internet Explorer 6 and 7 don’t support the focus pseudo-class, which is why there’s a second CSS selector a.helper.focus so we can use some JavaScript to help out. When the page loads, we look for all links that have a class of helper and add in onfocus and onblur event handlers: if (anchor.className == ""helper"") { anchor.onfocus = function() { this.className = 'helper focus'; } anchor.onblur = function() { this.className = 'helper'; } } Since we are using JavaScript to cover up for deficiencies in Internet Explorer, it makes sense to use JavaScript initially to place the links off-screen. That way an Internet Explorer user with JavaScript disabled can still use the skip link functionality. It is vital that the number of links rendered in this way is kept to a minimum. Every link you offer needs to be tabbed through, and gets read out in a screen reader. Offer these off-screen links that directly benefit these types of visitor. Andy Clarke and Kimberly Blessing use a similar technique in the Web Standards Project‘s latest design, but their technique involves hiding the skip link in plain sight and making it visible when it receives focus. Navigate the page using just the tab key to see the accessibility-related links appear when they receive focus. This technique is also a good way of hiding image replaced text. That way the screen-readers still get the actual text, and the website still gets its designed look. Which way? If the links are not meant to be reachable until a certain event has occurred, then the display: none technique is the preferred approach. If you want the links accessible but out of the way until they receive focus, then the off-screen positioning (or Andy’s hiding in plain sight technique) is the way to go.",2006,Mike Davies,mikedavies,2006-12-05T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2006/accessible-dynamic-links/,ux 274,Adaptive Images for Responsive Designs,"So you’ve been building some responsive designs and you’ve been working through your checklist of things to do: You started with the content and designed around it, with mobile in mind first. You’ve gone liquid and there’s nary a px value in sight; % is your weapon of choice now. You’ve baked in a few media queries to adapt your layout and tweak your design at different window widths. You’ve made your images scale to the container width using the fluid Image technique. You’ve even done the same for your videos using a nifty bit of JavaScript. You’ve done a good job so pat yourself on the back. But there’s still a problem and it’s as tricky as it is important: image resolutions. HTML has an problem CSS is great at adapting a website design to different window sizes – it allows you not only to tweak layout but also to send rescaled versions of the design’s images. And you want to do that because, after all, a smartphone does not need a 1,900-pixel background image1. HTML is less great. In the same way that you don’t want CSS background images to be larger than required, you don’t want that happening with s either. A smartphone only needs a small image but desktop users need a large one. Unfortunately s can’t adapt like CSS, so what do we do? Well, you could just use a high resolution image and the fluid image technique would scale it down to fit the viewport; but that’s sending an image five or six times the file size that’s really needed, which makes it slow to download and unpleasant to use. Smartphones are pretty impressive devices – my ancient iPhone 3G is more powerful in every way than my first proper computer – but they’re still terribly slow in comparison to today’s desktop machines. Sending a massive image means it has to be manipulated in memory and redrawn as you scroll. You’ll find phones rapidly run out of RAM and slow to a crawl. Well, OK. You went mobile first with everything else so why not put in mobile resolution s too? Because even though mobile devices are rapidly gaining share in your analytics stats, they’re still not likely to be the major share of your user base. I don’t think desktop users would be happy with pokey little mobile resolution images, do you? What we need are adaptive images. Adaptive image techniques There are a number of possible solutions, each with pros and cons, and it’s not as simple to find a graceful solution as you might expect. Your first thought might be to use JavaScript to trawl through the markup and rewrite the source attribute. That’ll get you the right end result, but it’ll have done it in a way you absolutely don’t want. That’s because of the way browsers load resources. It starts to load the HTML and builds the page on-the-fly; as soon as it finds an element it immediately asks the server for that image. After the HTML has finished loading, the JavaScript will run, change the src attribute, and then the browser will request that new image too. Not instead of, but as well as. Not good: that’s added more bloat instead of cutting it. Plain JavaScript is out then, which is a problem, because what other tools do we have to work with as web designers? Let’s ignore that for now and I’ll outline another issue with the concept of serving different resolution images for different window widths: a basic file management problem. To request a different image, that image has to exist on the server. How’s it going to get there? That’s not a trivial problem, especially if you have non-technical users that update content through a CMS. Let’s say you solve that – do you plan on a simple binary switch: big image|little image? Is that really efficient or future-proof? What happens if you have an archive of existing content that needs to behave this way? Can you apply such a solution to existing content or markup? There’s a detailed round-up of potential techniques for solving the adaptive images problem over at the Cloud Four blog if you fancy a dig around exploring all the options currently available. But I’m here to show you what I think is the most flexible and easy to implement solution, so here we are. Adaptive Images Adaptive Images aims to mitigate most of the issues surrounding the problems of bringing the venerable tag into the 21st century. And it works by leaving that tag completely alone – just add that desktop resolution image into the markup as you’ve been doing for years now. We’ll fix it using secret magic techniques and bottled pixie dreams. Well, fine: with one .htaccess file, one small PHP file and one line of JavaScript. But you’re killing the mystique with that kind of talk. So, what does this solution do? It allows s to adapt to the same break points you use in your media queries, giving granular control in the same way you get with your CSS. It installs on your server in five minutes or less and after that is automatic and you don’t need to do anything. It generates its own rescaled images on the server and doesn’t require markup changes, so you can apply it to existing web content. If you wish, it will make all of your images go mobile-first (just in case that’s what you want if JavaScript and cookies aren’t available). Sound good? I hope so. Here’s what you do. Setting up and rolling out I’ll assume you have some basic server knowledge along with that wealth of front-end wisdom exploding out of your head: that you know not to overwrite any existing .htaccess file for example, and how to set file permissions on your server. Feeling up to it? Excellent. Download the latest version of Adaptive Images either from the website or from the GitHub repository. Upload the included .htaccess and adaptive-images.php files into the root folder of your website. Create a directory called ai-cache and make sure the server can write to it (CHMOD 755 should do it). Add the following line of JavaScript into the of your site: That’s it, unless you want to tweak the default settings. You likely do, but essentially you’re already up and running. How it works Adaptive Images does a number of things depending on the scenario the script has to handle, but here’s a basic overview of what it does when you load a page running it: A session cookie is written with the value of the visitor’s screen size in pixels. The HTML encounters an tag and sends a request to the server for that image. It also sends the cookie, because that’s how browsers work. Apache sits on the server and receives the request for the image. Apache then has a look in the .htaccess file to see if there are any special instructions for files in the requested URL. There are! The .htaccess says “Hey, server! Any request you get for a JPG, GIF or PNG file just send to the adaptive-images.php file instead.” The PHP file then does some intelligent thinking which can cover a number of scenarios, but I’ll illustrate one path that can happen: The PHP file looks for the cookie and finds out that the user has a maximum screen width of 480px. The PHP has a look at the available media query sizes that were configured and decides which one matches the user’s device. It then has a look inside the /ai-cache/480/ folder to see if a rescaled image already exists there. We’ll pretend it doesn’t – the PHP then goes to the actual requested URI and finds that the original file does exist. It has a look to see how wide that image is. If it’s already smaller than the user’s screen width it sends it along and stops there. But, let’s pretend the image is 1,000px wide. The PHP then resizes the image and saves it into the /ai-cache/480 folder ready for the next time someone needs it. It also does a few other things when needs arise, for example: It sends images with a cache header field that tells proxies not to cache the image, while telling browsers they should. This avoids problems with proxy servers and network caching systems grabbing the wrong image and storing it. It handles cases where there isn’t a cookie set, and you can choose whether to then send the mobile version or the largest configured media query size. It compares timestamps between the source image and the generated cache image – to ensure that if the source image gets updated, the old cached file won’t be sent. Customizing There are a few options you can customize if you don’t like the default values. By looking in the PHP’s configuration section at the top of the file, you can: Set the resolution breakpoints to match your media query break points. Change the name and location of the ai-cache folder. Change the quality level any generated JPG images are saved at. Have it perform a subtle sharpen on rescaled images to help keep detail. Toggle whether you want it to compare the files in the cache folder with the source ones or not. Set how long the browser should cache the images for. Switch between a mobile-first or desktop-first approach when a cookie isn’t found. More importantly, you probably want to omit a few folders from the AI behaviour. You don’t need or want it resizing the images you’re using in your CSS, for example. That’s fine – just open up the .htaccess file and follow the instructions to list any directories you want AI to ignore. Or, if you’re a dab hand at RewriteRules you can remove the exclamation mark at the start of the rule and it’ll only apply AI behaviour to a given list of folders. Caveats As I mentioned, I think this is one of the most flexible, future-proof, retrofittable and easy to use solutions available today. But, there are problems with this approach as there are with all of the ones I’ve seen so far. This is a PHP solution I wish I was smarter and knew some fancy modern languages the cool kids discuss at parties, but I don’t. So, you need PHP on your server. That said, Adaptive Images has a Creative Commons licence2 and I would welcome anyone to contribute a port of the code3. Content delivery networks Adaptive Images relies on the server being able to: intercept requests for images; do some logic; and send one of a given number of responses. Content delivery networks are generally dumb caches, and they won’t allow that to happen. Adaptive Images will not work if you’re using a CDN to deliver your website. A minor but interesting cookie issue. As Yoav Weiss pointed out in his article Preloaders, cookies and race conditions, there is no way to guarantee that a cookie will be set before images are requested – even though the JavaScript that sets the cookie is loaded by the browser before it finds any tags. That could mean images being requested without a cookie being available. Adaptive Images has a two-fold mechanism to avoid this being a problem: The $mobile_first toggle allows you to choose what to send to a browser if a cookie isn’t set. If FALSE then it will send the highest configured resolution; if TRUE it will send the lowest. Even if set to TRUE, Adaptive Images checks the User Agent String. If it discovers the user is on a desktop environment, it will override $mobile_first and set it to FALSE. This means that if $mobile_first is set to TRUE and the user was unlucky (their browser didn’t write the cookie fast enough), mobile devices will be supplied with the smallest image, and desktop devices will get the largest. The best way to get a cookie written is to use JavaScript as I’ve explained above, because it’s the fastest way. However, for those that want it, there is a JavaScript-free method which uses CSS and a bogus PHP ‘image’ to set the cookie. A word of caution: because it requests an external file, this method is slower than the JavaScript one, and it is very likely that the cookie won’t be set until after images have been requested. The future For today, this is a pretty good solution. It works, and as it doesn’t interfere with your markup or source material in any way, the process is non-destructive. If a future solution is superior, you can just remove the Adaptive Images files and you’re good to go – you’d never know AI had been there. However, this isn’t really a long-term solution, not least because of the intermittent problem of the cookie and image request race condition. What we really need are a number of standardized ways to handle this in the future. First, we could do with browsers sending far more information about the user’s environment along with each HTTP request (device size, connection speed, pixel density, etc.), because the way things work now is no longer fit for purpose. The web now is a much broader entity used on far more diverse devices than when these technologies were dreamed up, and we absolutely require the server to have better knowledge about device capabilities than is currently possible. Relying on cookies to do this job doesn’t cut it, and the User Agent String is a complete mess incapable of fulfilling the various purposes we are forced to hijack it for. Secondly, we need a W3C-backed markup level solution to supply semantically different content at different resolutions, not just rescaled versions of the same content as Adaptive Images does. I hope you’ve found this interesting and will find Adaptive Images useful. Footnotes 1 While I’m talking about preventing smartphones from downloading resources they don’t need: you should be careful of your media query construction if you want to stop WebKit downloading all the images in all of the CSS files. 2 Adaptive Images has a very broad Creative Commons licence and I warmly welcome feedback and community contributions via the GitHub repository. 3 There is a ColdFusion port of an older version of Adaptive Images. I do not have anything to do with ported versions of Adaptive Images.",2011,Matt Wilcox,mattwilcox,2011-12-04T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2011/adaptive-images-for-responsive-designs/,ux 269,Adaptive Images for Responsive Designs… Again,"When I was asked to write an article for 24 ways I jumped at the chance, as I’d been wanting to write about some fun hacks for responsive images and related parsing behaviours. My heart sank a little when Matt Wilcox beat me to the subject, but it floated back up when I realized I disagreed with his method and still had something to write about. So, Matt Wilcox, if that is your real name (and I’m pretty sure it is), I disagree. I see your dirty server-based hack and raise you an even dirtier client-side hack. Evil laugh, etc., etc. You guys can stomach yet another article about responsive design, right? Right? Half the room gets up to leave Whoa, whoa… OK, I’ll cut to the chase… TL;DR In a previous episode, we were introduced to Debbie and her responsive cat poetry page. Well, now she’s added some reviews of cat videos and some images of cats. Check out her new page and have a play around with the browser window. At smaller widths, the images change and the design responds. The benefits of this method are: it’s entirely client-side images are still shown to users without JavaScript your media queries stay in your CSS file no repetition of image URLs no extra downloads per image it’s fast enough to work on resize it’s pure filth What’s wrong with the server-side solution? Responsive design is a client-side issue; involving the server creates a boatload of problems. It sets a cookie at the top of the page which is read in subsequent requests. However, the cookie is not guaranteed to be set in time for requests on the same page, so the server may see an old value or no value at all. Serving images via server scripts is much slower than plain old static hosting. The URL can only cache with vary: cookie, so the cache breaks when the cookie changes, even if the change is unrelated. Also, far-future caching is out for devices that can change width. It depends on detecting screen width, which is rather messy on mobile devices. Responding to things other than screen width (such as DPI) means packing more information into the cookie, and a more complicated script at the top of each page. So, why isn’t this straightforward on the client? Client-side solutions to the problem involve JavaScript testing user agent properties (such as screen width), looping through some images and setting their URLs accordingly. However, by the time JavaScript has sprung into action, the original image source has already started downloading. If you change the source of an image via JavaScript, you’re setting off yet another request. Images are downloaded as soon as their DOM node is created. They don’t need to be visible, they don’t need to be in the document. new Image().src = url The above will start an HTTP request for url. This is a handy trick for quick requests and preloading, but also shows the browser’s eagerness to download images. Here’s an example of that in action. Check out the network tab in Web Inspector (other non-WebKit development aids are available) to see the image requests. Because of this, some client-side solutions look like this: where t.gif is a 1×1px tiny transparent GIF. This results in no images if JavaScript isn’t available. Dealing with the absence of JavaScript is still important, even on mobile. I was recently asked to make a website work on an old Blackberry 9000. I was able to get most of the way there by preventing that OS parsing any JavaScript, and that was only possible because the site didn’t depend on it. We need to delay loading images for JavaScript users, but ensure they load for users without JavaScript. How can we conditionally parse markup depending on JavaScript support? Oh yeah!