I’ve written about paywalls before, and I think they’re a terrible for everyone. And it’s not because I’m an information hippie who thinks that all content should be free. It’s because they reflect a fundamental misunderstanding about how to capture the value of great content, and because the user experience sucks. Really bad.

Gannet just rolled out paywalls at three of their regional papers. I found out because I follow paidContent.org on Pinyadda, which, ironically, is a free publication. After I got through the painful period of disgust/anger/befuddlement/hilarity that ensues when I hear about new paywalls being erected, I went to visit the Tallahassee Democrat, one of the sites sporting the shiny new system. It didn’t go very well.

At first glance, the site looks like every other newspaper site, replete with all the design failures and clutter that you’d expect: flashing banner ads, a confusing structure of headlines and highlights, and whole bunch of moving parts that I don’t really understand. There’s no mention of a paywall and no indication of what’s about to happen when I click on a story.

I clicked on the feature story in the top left corner, which at the time was about the race for Mayor of Tallahassee (the module rotates). So far, so good; aside from the expected clutter and the annoyance of moving banner ads, I was able to move toward my goal of reading the news on the internet. That single goal is important to keep in mind – the only thing I’m hoping to accomplish is reading a news story on my computer. Here’s what I saw next:

The paywall rears its ugly head.

Once the page loaded, I was able to see the headline, byline, and about half of the first sentence. Not much of a teaser. The items with the most visual weight are an image of a heavy padlock, a series of large, black buttons, and a bright yellow banner ad. Before we dive into the actual payment options, it’s worth noting some things about the design. The padlock image makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong, perhaps by choosing this article over another, perhaps by committing some internet sin in another life. I’m not being invited inside, I’m being locked out. People don’t like being locked out.

It’s not immediately clear to me which button I should choose, as they share identical visual characteristics. This isn’t make or break, but it takes time to read the text, weigh my options, and make a decision. It’s enough time for me become distracted from my original goal, which, I think, was to read an article about the Mayoral race in Tallahassee. After some deliberation, I chose the third option – ‘Purchase a day pass for $2.’ There is a link to see more subscription options, but I didn’t notice it while I was on the page.

As a user, this step was complicated. When the page loaded, I was presented with an unexpected result that triggered a negative emotional response. I has to decipher what was going on, consider several options, and make a purchase decision. This presents a large barrier for the average user and diverts all attention away from the original goal of reading an article. The $2 isn’t the most significant deterrent in this equation. In fact, the financial commitment may actually be the least important factor in my decision to continue beyond this point in the process.

Once I chose an option, I was taken away from the page and presented with this screen:

The form monster emerges.

As far as forms go, this one is relatively clean and accessible. I’m not thrilled about having to switch my brain into data-entry mode, but at least I understand how this page works. I just fill this out and I get to read my article, right? Not so fast.

Red ink, take one.

I’m pretty good at the internet, and I was terrible at this form. Three errors spit back on the first try. First, my username didn’t fit in the 6-13 character window of bliss. Second, my Gmail alias (which allows me to filter messages later) was rejected. And third, I mistakenly entered my full birth date instead of my birth year, as was requested. I don’t particularly appreciate being asked for my birthday (I bet you don’t either) and so the last error left a particularly poor taste. At this point I have no idea what my original task was. This one is quite challenging enough. After fixing the form, getting two more errors during validation, and then clicking submit for the third time….

Nothing happened. The form submission hung for about 60 seconds (if you look closely, you can see the loading message ‘Registering…’ in the error field at the top of the form) and never submitted. I started looking for a way out and found the only viable option to be the ‘Send Again’ option buried beneath the submit button. I clicked it and was presented with a nice-looking but terribly annoying modal window that didn’t really solve my problems. Nevertheless, I threw in my email address and clicked the button.

Error. Despite entering a perfectly valid address, the form rejected my  submission. Back to the drawing board. Let’s remember that I haven’t been asked for any payment information at all up to this point, and my incentives to abandon the process are numerous. This feels like work. Why should I have to work to give someone else money (especially for something I can get for free elsewhere!!)? But I’m an internet masochist. I trudge on. I really want that article. I think.

Finally, I get to the payment screen. Lean to the side, get out my wallet, set the card up on the keyboard, and enter the information.

The phone number seemed a little intrusive to me, and there was no indication it was a required field, so I left it blank. Should have known better. Maybe they want to call me later and see how my experience with the paywall went. I grudgingly entered the number – a piece of information I’m loathe to part with in the rest of my life – and click the OK button in the alert. Finally, it’s over. But then…

I have to confirm my information again. They’re almost daring me to bail at this point, and I sure as heck can’t remember the article I wanted to read way back at the beginning of this newspaper odyssey. But what the heck. This is surely the end.

Nope. One more step, another chance to forget why I came here, and one more screen between me and my original goal. Finally, I click the submit button of death, shut my eyes, and hope for the best.

Voila! Magic! I finally get the prize! It’s …. a 500 word article smattered with flashing yellow banner ads. I’m confused. And tired. And poorer than I was a few minutes ago.

Am I here to bash Gannet for their ineptitude? No. Is it concerning that this attempt at paid content  is the result of formally architected effort from one of the largest newspaper chains in the country? Yes. While I understand the value of reporting like this – local, public-service-based journalism that truly does improve our communities – I’m not willing to believe that I got an equal amount of value from the deal. I feel like I got the short end of the stick. And the $2 is the least important part of that feeling.

You want me to pay for content? Fine. But you’d better understand that I’m a discriminating shopper, that I appreciate customer service, and that I value my time and energy as much as my wallet. I wanted to read an article about the mayoral race in Tallahassee. It took me a total of 12 screens, well over five minutes, and two of my hard-earned dollars to accomplish that goal. During the process, I was confused, frustrated, and rejected multiple times.

I really hope that we can work with publishers, large and small, to improve the user experience that goes along with finding news online. Because there’s a generation right on my heels that won’t wait for the old guard to get it right.

Are you a publisher? Have you been the victim of a poor paywall experience? We want to work together as we build a new future for news – a future that’s sustainable, powerful, and pleasant for all of us.

Tags: Design, media, news, newspapers, paywall

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 6th, 2010 at 11:51 pm and is filed under Product, Publishers. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.