Twenty minutes before the IN+ seminar on the psychology of persuasive technology started, the room at Instituto Superior Técnico in Lisbon was already packed. Paper coffee cups from the downstairs cafeteria were held by people standing at the back, leaning against the wall. Most weren’t students, but a few were. A behavioral researcher had flown in from Helsinki, there were product designers from Berlin, and at least two individuals were dressed in the plush, pricey sweatshirts that have become standard for mid-level engineers at major American platforms. The fact that the talk was sold out didn’t seem to surprise anyone.
Scenes like this are becoming commonplace. Once a quiet area of research on human-computer interaction, academic seminars on persuasive technology have evolved into something more akin to industry pilgrimages. B.J. Fogg’s original Persuasive Tech Lab gave rise to Stanford’s Behavior Design Lab, which continues to attract long waitlists for its workshops. A constant flow of dissertations on freedom and attention can be found in Oxford’s research archive, including one by James Williams that has been discreetly circulated within organizations that would prefer to remain anonymous. Speaking with those who attend these events gives the impression that the academy has finally caught up to what the industry has been doing for fifteen years.
Any digital system intended to influence attitudes or behaviors without using coercion is considered persuasive technology. In addition to fitness trackers and Duolingo streaks, the phrase also refers to autoplay countdowns, red notification dots, and infinite scrolls. Almost all introductory slides still reference Fogg’s old functional triad: technology as tool, as medium, and as social actor. Who is seated in the audience has changed. Ten years ago, PhD students dominated these discussions. The people who actually ship the features are now occupying them.
There is a practical component to the appeal. Frameworks are what designers want. They want to know if a streak counter is more akin to a rigorous personal trainer or a gentle prod, and if the distinction has an impact on retention. You can use Halko and Kientz’s taxonomy of eight persuasive strategies on Tuesday and test them by Friday. These strategies are divided into two categories: instruction style and social feedback. However, there is another, more difficult-to-identify phenomenon occurring.
The criticism is read by many of the attendees of these seminars. They have read the Center for Humane Technology essays about the attention economy, the ISACA articles about echo chambers, and the research demonstrating that the average adult now spends three hours a day scrolling. Quietly, they are searching for a vocabulary that will allow them to continue performing their duties without losing the sense of purpose.
The ethical discourse has developed teeth. A senior researcher from a major social media platform recently acknowledged, almost casually, that her team had stopped using the term “engagement” internally because no one could agree on what it measured. The laughter in the room was uncomfortable. In his Oxford thesis, Williams questioned whether it is appropriate to refer to a technology as persuasive when there is no practical way for the user to opt out. A few years ago, that question was abstract, but today it appears in product reviews at businesses that produce the goods that everyone uses.
It’s difficult to ignore the pattern. The same industry that developed these systems is now purchasing tickets to hear scholars describe their operation. It’s still unclear if that translates into different products or simply better-informed ones. Years ago, Tesla faced similar questions about whether scrutiny would make a difference; the answer was nuanced. As of right now, the seminars continue to fill up, the slides continue to be shared, and some people in Lisbon are making their way back to their hotels while considering what they will share with their teams on Monday.
