Octopuses are Intensely Curious, known for their problem-solving, exploration, and distinct personalities.
Happy New Year. It is January 2, 2026. I made it exactly 48 hours into the new year before my resolution to be “less grumpy” was violently murdered by a highly paid UX Leads.
I tried. I really did. But I have banking apps on a few different continents, and as I cycled through them this morning, I realized that incompetence is the only true global language. Whether I am in Asia, Europe, or the Americas, the user experience seems designed by people who hate money, or at least hate the people who have it.
So, let’s talk about craft.
There is a definition of craftsmanship that has been floating around Silicon Valley for nearly two decades. It says that anyone who actually loves what they do is inherently, intensely curious about their field. They immerse themselves in it. They obsess over it.
And then, there are my banking apps.
If the people building these digital vaults were actually “immersed” in their craft, I wouldn’t be staring at a notification that essentially asks me to do their job for them. But here we are. The gap between “shipping a feature” and “loving the craft” is currently the size of a 15-working-day waiting period.
The “Check It Yourself” Feature
Let’s look at a recent piece of digital art I received. A notification popped up regarding a credit card refund. It read:
“You’ve a refund. Please check your card transaction history within 15–30 working days for more details.”
Let’s unpack the sheer lack of curiosity required to write that requirement.
The app knows I have a refund. It knows the amount. It knows the status. Yet, instead of showing me the money, or triggering a push notification when the cash actually lands, it gives me a homework assignment. It tells me to manually audit my own transaction feed for the next three weeks.
Here is the question that begs: If you are the computer, and you have the database, why am I the one refreshing the page?
A PM who was “intensely curious” would have asked: “Wait, if the refund fails, who catches it?” The lazy PM and fancy UX Lead just says: “Not my problem. Let the user check. If they miss it, they can call support.”
If I ordered a steak and the waiter dropped it on the floor, he wouldn’t say, “I have dropped your steak. Please check the floor area within 15 minutes to see if I have returned with a new one.” He would just fix it. If the app can’t track the refund, assign a Relationship Manager to track it. Do the work. That is the craft.
The Infinite Loyalty Loop
This apathy isn’t an isolated incident; it’s a design system.
Take the “Loyalty Rewards” journey. I recently tried to redeem the mountain of points I’ve earned. I hit “Redeem.” The app tells me: “You are out of your limit.”
Okay. Reasonable. I am curious: What is the limit?
I look for a “Limits” page. It doesn’t exist. I look for a progress bar. Nothing. I click “More Info,” and it loops me back to the dashboard. I am trapped in a Kafkaesque nightmare where I am guilty of exceeding a limit that has never been defined.
A Product Manager or fancy UX lead with army of content writers who “studies it and talks to other people about it” would have realized in five seconds that telling a user they hit a wall without showing them the wall is infuriating. But they didn’t ask the question. They just built the error message and went to lunch.
The Zombie Offer
Then there is the “Exclusive Offer” that greets me upon login. A shiny banner promising 15% cash back. I click it, excited. I feel seen. I feel valued.
Then I read the T&C. Offer expired: 2023.
This drives me nuts. It is the digital equivalent of leaving Christmas decorations up until March. It shows a profound lack of immersion. You aren’t “continuously” using your own product. If you were, you’d see the dead offer. You’d feel the annoyance. You would “work like hell to stay current” — literally and figuratively.
The Curiosity Gap
The text in that famous manifesto says people do this extra work “Not because they have to. But because they love to.”
That is the missing ingredient in your banking app. It’s not better code or AI; it’s love.
The teams building these journeys stopped asking “Why?” precisely when the ticket met the acceptance criteria.
- “Did we notify the user of the refund?” Yes. (Did we help them? No.)
- “Did we stop them from redeeming over the limit?” Yes. (Did we explain the limit? No.)
As my best friend and mentor said to me: That lack of curiosity irks me intensely. It is the difference between a tool you tolerate and a craft you respect. Until PMs start acting like they actually use the money they manage, we’re all just going to be sitting here, manually checking our history for 15 working days.
Product Principles for the Intensely Curious People
If we’re going to stop building digital trash and start building actual tools, we need to stop hiding behind “industry standards” (which is just code for “everyone else’s app also sucks”).
1. Friction is a Moral Failure
In a banking app, every unnecessary tap, every “loading” spinner, and every redundant confirmation screen is a micro-aggression against the user’s time. If you aren’t physically pained by a three-step process that could be one, you’re in the wrong business.
- The Rule: If a user has to think about how to use the app, you’ve already lost. The interface should be as invisible as a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet.
2. Design for the “3 AM Panic”
Nobody opens a banking app because they’re bored and looking for entertainment. They open it because they need to pay a bill, check a balance, or confirm they haven’t been robbed. They are often stressed, distracted, or tired.
- The Rule: If your UX doesn’t work for a person who is caffeinated, panicked, and staring at a low-battery icon at 3:00 AM, it doesn’t work at all. Empathy isn’t a soft skill; it’s a technical requirement.
3. Kill the Legalese; Speak Human
If I wanted to read a terms-and-conditions document, I’d go to law school. When the app says “Transaction Pending Verification of Funds Availability,” what the user hears is “We have your money and we aren’t telling you why.”
- The Rule: Every string of micro-copy must pass the “Bistro Test.” If you wouldn’t say it to a friend over a glass of wine, don’t put it in the app. Use verbs, not jargon.
4. “The Legacy Core” is Not an Excuse
The most common phrase in a lazy PM or lazy tech team (read CIO)’s vocabulary is: “We can’t do that because the backend doesn’t support it.” That is the “stopping point” where curiosity goes to die.
- The Rule: Your job is to bridge the gap between ancient COBOL systems and modern human desire. If the backend is a mess, build a middleware that hides the stench. The user should never have to suffer because your infrastructure belongs in a museum. This a real CX core value, not what you say on wall or website.
5. Immersion is Non-Negotiable
You cannot build a great product for a subculture or a demographic you don’t understand. If you’re building a feature for gig workers but you’ve never felt the anxiety of a fluctuating weekly income, you’re just guessing.
- The Rule: Go live the life of your user for a week. Use the “competitor” app exclusively. Feel the burn of a $35 overdraft fee. If you don’t feel the stakes, you won’t feel the craft.
6. Subtraction is Luxury
Most banking apps suffer from “Feature Creep Bloat.” They try to be a budgeter, a news feed, a crypto exchange, and a travel agent all at once. It’s the digital equivalent of a Swiss Army knife where every blade is dull.
- The Rule: A “Product Manager” is actually a “Product Editor.” Your greatest contribution to the craft is often the feature you had the courage to delete.
