Writing.Think Localized Distribute Globally
Last updated on Sun May 11, 2008 |

We've all seen it before. From nonsensical subtitles in foreign language movies to horrific food descriptions in restaurants, when translations go bad you can get some pretty funny results! And, while translation problems used to be relegated to large multinational corporations, the Internet and Web have made it a real concern for everyone from individual bloggers to online startups everywhere. If you're going to enter the global marketplace, you have to be prepared for global differences.

In the software development realm, we usually talk about this in terms of two similar but separate issues: internationalization and localization. In general, internationalization (also referred to as "i18n" for brevity, where eighteen is the number of letters between "i" and "n" in the word "internationalization") has to do with development practices that allow for regional changes (such as offering help documentation in many languages) without having to modify the core software itself. On the other hand, localization (also referred to as "l10n" for brevity, where ten is the number of letters between "l" and "n" in the word "localization") deals with actual content changes made due to regional differences (including things like different color schemes and date and currency formatting).

Lately I've been noticing more and more websites that offer their content in several languages. Likewise, some pieces of software have fantastic support for multiple languages, date and currency formatting, and even language-based keyboard differences. The K Desktop Environment for Linux, for example, currently makes its documentation available in over one hundred languages! And while internationalization techniques in software development are great and all of these efforts to produce content in multiple languages is really helping to make access to knowledge much more universal, it seems that the more complicated aspects of localization go overlooked all too often. I was recently reminded of this when I saw a striking example of some extreme and curious (but ultimately praiseworthy) efforts at localization.

As someone who's done a lot of long distance moving, I've learned that it's usually much more cost effective before a big move to simply sell off all of my furniture and start fresh in my new home. But, because I'm on a limited budget, this has meant a lot of hours spent browsing the aisles at IKEA.

The other week I was on their website looking for folding chairs when I decided to see if the chairs they sold in Canada were different than what they were selling here in the United States. I didn't even make it past the Canadian version homepage, though, because my eye caught the "Français" language option at the top of the screen. I didn't remember that on the US version homepage, so I flipped back to the US site and noticed that "Français" on the Canadian IKEA site was replaced with "Información en español" in the US version. Well, being an avid Raymond Chandler fan, I have to admit that I love a good mystery, and this minor difference immediately made me wonder what other differences might exist between the various localizations of the IKEA website — and that's where things got interesting.

After spending more time than I care to admit flipping back and forth between the thirty-seven different versions of the IKEA homepage, I made one particularly interesting discovery. Nearly every European IKEA Homepage, both North American ones, and the Japanese version all have a feature called "Ask Anna." This is where you can ask questions about IKEA products and get immediate responses from an automated answering system which, I believe, can ultimately even put you in touch with a real human being. What I found particularly interesting, though, was the fact that in all but three cases, the image of "Anna" is the same regardless of the locale. Anna, in most places, is a Caucasian woman with brunette hair whose mouth makes less of a smile and more of a non-expression than anything else. In Russia, Anna is simply a grey, clipart-like icon of a person with the text, "IKEA Service --> Enter." But, in Germany and the UK, Anna is a Caucasian woman with blond hair and a definite smile on her face. "Okay, IKEA," I asked myself, "what's the story with the different Annas?" A few days later, I asked them.

I contacted IKEA of the United States, because it was easier to start closer to home and because they specifically had a way to ask questions about the website itself. I pointed out what I had noticed, and I also asked if they could shed any light on why the German or UK Annas might be different. Surprisingly, I actually got an answer the next day. The reply stated that while they appreciated my question, IKEA of the United States could not speak for any other IKEA.

Well, it just so happens that I've lived in Germany and Austria over several periods and can, in fact, speak German. So, I went back to the IKEA site of Germany to track down an answer, but, unfortunately, they didn't have the same way to ask questions regarding the website as the US version did. Ironically, everywhere that you could ask a question on the German site just led back to the "Ask Anna" function. In a fit of desperation and frustration, I decided to ask Anna herself why she has blond hair, but she either doesn't know or she wasn't telling me because her response was simply, "Schau doch einfach mal ein wenig genauer hin. Aber um dir bei Fragen zu IKEA weiterzuhelfen, wird mein Erscheinungsbild doch nicht wirklich eine Rolle spielen." Very loosely translated, I could look all I wanted but her appearance was not going to affect her ability to answer my IKEA questions. Curiously, someone (possibly her creators at Artificial Solutions) had programmed her to field questions about her appearance! On a side note, I should really point out that I've since learned that asking the American Anna about her brunette hair yields the response, "I'm not going to enter into a discussion about hair color. Please, ask me a question in relation to IKEA." And the Canadian Anna, true to the stereotype about being friendlier than their neighbors to the south, replies with the much less aggressive, "I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to talk about IKEA."

As amusing as asking the Annas a myriad of questions can be (and let me tell you, she has a surprising number of responses to whatever non-IKEA questions you can throw her way), the really amazing thing to me is how much time, thought, and effort IKEA put into localization and, truly, what a great job they did. By clicking through the various IKEA localizations, it's immediately apparent that color schemes, display rooms, decorative graphics and so much more all change radically from region to region. You really get the sense that each version, although selling most of the same products and clearly conveying the same ultimate image of a singular consistent IKEA brand, truly was designed with the target culture in mind. This is localization done really well.

Clearly, it's almost impossible to think that everyone who creates online content has the ability to localize as thoroughly as IKEA. For many of us, individually building up our own small websites and blogs in one language with one set of cultural norms and expectations in mind is difficult enough. But, if you find yourself beginning to take on an international audience or if you'd like to start reaching out to people in other parts of the world, you might be generously rewarded for doing a little bit more than just offering your text in multiple languages. Even making a small effort to present yourself in culturally familiar way in foreign lands can really go a long way toward gathering up fans abroad. And, if anyone happens to ask you about your hair, just follow German Anna's lead, and say, "You're welcome to look all you want, but my appearance will not affect my ability to do my job!"