Property Over People

I’m parked at Whole Foods, the vehicle is turned off, and the error message reads: Key not detected. The digital display on my dash reads 114 degrees Fahrenheit and climbing.

I need to open the key fob and retrieve the physical backup key, but the fob cover is secured by tiny, precision screws. The tiny screwdriver required to open it is miles away, sitting in a tool drawer at home. (Don’t worry, I no longer carry a fob cover that requires spectacles and the tiniest screwdriver ever invented.)

As the cabin temperature rises to 118 degrees, I am on my second and final remote start from my phone. I open the door to get out, but the perimeter alarms of my Volvo XC40 start screaming; a deafening, rhythmic wail. I place the key inside the center console for passive detection. Nothing.

I am trapped in a rapidly heating leather-and-steel solar oven, locked out of the vehicle’s operating system.

As a UX designer with over two decades of experience, my career has been dedicated to human-centric design, visual signals, and keeping the human in the loop on the cognitive factors of what the product and brand communicates. I have spent my life prioritizing user intuition and safety above all else. But in that moment, I wasn’t an expert analyzing a product. I was suddenly inside a cascading system failure, where several well-intentioned safety features had combined in a way that left me with no clear way out.

Of course, at this point, I had fallen in love with my new Swedish made car, purchased just a few months earlier. I had even named her Greta, after my favorite Swedish actress, Greta Garbo. But Greta’s operating manual was as obscure as those romantic notions in this moment.