The UX Exercise That Quietly Changed How I Design

I didn’t invent the Fake Persona Test. I just started doing it because I was stuck.

Stuck in that silent discomfort you get when something feels off in a product, but you can’t name it. The flows were technically functional. The screens made sense in isolation. But somehow, it didn’t feel right.

I wanted a clearer picture. But user research takes time. Usability testing needs prep. Analytics don’t always tell you what actually hurts.

So, out of mild frustration and some misplaced theatrical energy, I started making up people. Not personas in the classic UX sense — not "Marketing Mary" or "Tech Tom." Just... fictional humans with oddly specific habits.

And then I used our product as them.

That was the beginning.

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The Exercise

The Fake Persona Test is exactly what it sounds like.

You invent a fictional person with quirks, constraints, and a slightly inconvenient setup. Then you navigate your product in character. Out loud. From top to bottom.

You ask: what does this person notice? Miss? Rage at? Bounce from?

It’s not rigorous. It’s not measurable. It’s barely real. And yet, it changed the way I design UI\UX services.

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The People Who Live In My Head (not literally)

Edith is 69. She used to be a librarian. Her iPad is always on 2% battery. She double-taps everything. She doesn’t trust autofill or QR codes. She reads the footer.

Dennis is 47. He runs Linux and considers animations a moral failure. If something isn’t keyboard-accessible, he assumes it’s broken. And he will tell you about it.

Joel is 34. He’s trying to fill out a form while holding a toddler and standing in a queue. He has one hand, limited patience, and a weak signal. If anything goes wrong, he’s gone.

Reese is 21. She taps before reading. Swipes like it’s a reflex. If something doesn’t feel instantly intuitive, she doesn’t wait to be convinced. She disappears.

These aren’t personas. They’re friction filters. They help me see what I’ve stopped seeing.

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What It Gave Me

Running these fake flows taught me more than any audit I’ve ever done. It surfaced the fragile bits. The overconfidence. The visual metaphors that only work if you already know what they mean.

And it did something more unexpected: it made me kinder.

Because when you design while pretending to be someone who’s tired, distracted, sceptical, or just not you — it shifts the axis. You stop designing to impress. You start designing to help.

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How I Do It (Roughly)

1. Pick a real flow

2. Choose a character

3. Narrate the whole experience aloud, from first click to last confusion

4. Note what breaks, bores, or burdens them

5. Fix one thing

It’s informal, theatrical, and occasionally awkward. But it brings up the kinds of conversations that stick.

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I think a lot of digital design is secretly theatre. We build for an imagined audience. We perform usability. We craft interfaces that feel smooth, even when they’re quietly leaking trust.

The Fake Persona Test is, in a way, just a rehearsal. A silly little play where you act out someone else’s pain. And in doing so, you notice what you usually ignore.

It won’t make your product perfect. But it might make your next decision better.

And maybe that’s enough.