We Did Not Intervene

Recently, my website stopped merely recording how many people visit.

It also records whether they get lost.

That seemed more useful.

Technically, someone who arrives at a website, looks at one page and leaves has paid a visit. But someone who goes from Ancestor to Survivors, then ends up with Gabriëlle, returns to Ancestor via Evelien, encounters a few more Survivors, visits Saskia, finds Jan, discovers Ralph and eventually arrives at Helena…

That person is doing something.

I have no idea what.

But I like it.

Over the past period, 65 visitors got lost on my website. On average, 2.9 steps deep.

One visitor achieved something remarkable.

32 steps.

Thirty-two.

I imagine someone who happens upon my website on a Sunday evening. Cup of coffee at hand. Read one story.

Perhaps one more.

Hey, who is Gabriëlle?

Click.

Survivors?

Click.

Ancestor?

Wasn't I already here?

Click.

And before you know it, half an hour has passed and you no longer have the faintest idea what brought you there in the first place.

Welcome to my head.

The nice thing is that my website now does exactly what I like to do myself. Not get from A to B as efficiently as possible. Just turn off somewhere because there seems to be something there.

Sometimes you get nowhere.

Sometimes you reach Sursirai.

Sometimes a photograph.

Sometimes somebody you do not know.

And sometimes you simply return to where you began.

The statistics probably call that user behaviour.

I call it wandering.

And below the five deepest wandering routes, there is now one reassuring message:

We did not intervene.

For now, that seems the best approach.

Perhaps websites do not always need to know where they want to send you.

Perhaps every now and then, a door should simply be left open.

And then we will see.

Getting lost is allowed.