Dark Patterns

Manipulative Patterns

Even more overtly than the previous category, and in a very different way than disguises and camouflage, dark patterns of this type attempt to situate users differently than expected, to articulate them into morally and ethically compromised roles in order to coerce their behavior. While some of these use humor, ambiguously acknowledged, others “play it straight”, and achieve ambiguity from that direction.

In the Figure 28, posted to Twitter by user @tpitre on Jul. 26, 2018, we see how this fairly typical-looking email submission form manipulates constituted identity to position users into the morally compromising position that they don’t care about their pets. In this case, as with intimidation, the interface is relatively clear in its structure, but the deception occurs at another level.

A user may well feel uncomfortable enough about the admission they figure that giving up their email address is small enough price to pay, or they may be won over by the ambiguous humor of the copy, and decide to submit their email expecting more of the same in the newsletter, either way the user has been coerced by emotional manipulation.

The kind of metis exhibited by dark patterns of this kind is cynical, self-referential, ambiguously aligned. While patterns of intimidation are overt in how they frustrate the user’s intent, patterns of emotional manipulation are overt about the act of manipulation itself.

They acknowledge to users by their extreme formulations that they are manipulative, moreover they offer to bring users in on the joke. They reverse the role of interface and they disguise where the immorality lies. This kind of metis transforms the nature of the transaction here: what had once become a question of whether to sign up for an email newsletter has become a struggle of contested morality.

The identity of the interface as assistant is absent completely, the interface is the opponent, but it’s not a mental challenge, its a moral one, and ethical problem. Are you the kind of person who doesn’t care what your beloved pet eats?

Who is the ethically compromised party, actually? While the interface makes the implicit claim the user doesn’t care for their pet until they’ve subscribed, it is the interface that shows its lack of care by this exaggerated manipulation.

Visually, we see many of the same rhetorical features as before. The text on the popup add is bright and large, except the opt-out link. The email submission field is presented as the only viable escape route from the dialogue, prompting you to give up these personal details, and the link to opt out or refuse doesn’t look like a button of any kind.

It is composed of extra small, low contrast text without any obviously hyperlink affordances (such as an underline), that would reveal its function. Instead, users must focus on blocking out everything else on the form, visually speaking, to bring the text to the level where it can be read.

The “No thanks” in the first position in the sentence strikes a tone of politeness, but when followed by “I don’t care what my cat eats”, the effect is to create a feeling of rejection. “Of course I care what my cat eats.” This moment of outrage is perhaps followed by a little shame, surely it must be a joke, right?

The main deceptive issue with the visual design, however, is the size of the link target itself. Presumably only one word of the entire sentence is the actual link, and it’s not clear which word. Tapping around multiple times is likely to trigger the email field. All the while, the moral accusation has time to take hold. The user does care what his or her pet eats. Why not just enter the email? And the ploy can succeed.