Volvo's Electric Range Simulator helps dealerships plan battery setups and operating costs for electric truck deals. Dealers avoided it: they exported the data and ran the numbers in Excel. I led the research that explained why, and the redesign that made the simulator the faster path.
I was the only designer on ERS. Research, strategy, and design ran through me, from the first stakeholder pitch to the shipped screens. Around me: a product owner, a project manager, two business analysts, and five developers.
Direct access to end users was limited, so a reference group of dealership representatives from the US, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands stood in as power users. They don't run simulations themselves, but they know the selling workflows the tool has to serve, and they reviewed every major step.
Selling an electric truck is harder than selling a diesel one. The dealer has to prove the route fits the battery, the charging fits the schedule, and the operating costs fit the contract. ERS existed to absorb that difficulty: simulate the route, size the battery, give the customer a number to trust. Instead it added difficulty of its own. Adoption stayed low, and three problems explained most of it.
No agreed vision, no value proposition anyone could state. Features came from one product manager's dealership experience, so the backlog grew in whatever direction the latest request pointed. The development team was overwhelmed by work that never added up to a product.
Dealers did the critical work in Excel and opened ERS only when they had to. Setup was repetitive, task navigation disjointed, and errors easy to make. The team assumed end users were too busy to be asked what would fix it, so nothing got fixed.
Everything on screen at once, with an information architecture that had no room to grow. Key elements carried no priority, so every task started with a search. Each new feature made it worse, because the structure gave it nowhere to go.
ERS had been in development for two years, and the team was deep inside its logic. The backlog was full, stakeholders were wary of change, and no one saw a pressing problem. Before any research could start, I had to make the case that a redesign was worth the risk. The argument that landed: a phased, low-risk plan with measurable goals, built to run alongside ongoing development rather than interrupt it.
I framed the redesign as an enhancement of a system that mostly worked, and staked it to goals the business already cared about: shorter simulation times, easier onboarding, higher satisfaction.
Before proposing anything, I measured the current state, so every later improvement would have a number to beat.
The tool was live, so the production database already recorded how people used it. With the dev team I extracted routes and tracks per customer, waypoint counts with their edge cases, and which features were used or ignored.
The data retired several assumptions. Functions stakeholders considered essential were rarely touched, while users leaned on repetitive workarounds nobody had noticed. Priorities shifted from perceived requirements to observed behavior.
I also proposed a tagging plan for ongoing analytics: abandoned tasks, feature usage rates. The redesign would keep learning after launch.
Direct access to users was limited early on, so we recorded sessions anonymously with Hotjar: mouse movement, clicks, navigation paths.
I worked with the legal team to keep the recordings GDPR-compliant and inside company privacy policy. Data sensitivity was a real concern; it got answered, not waved away.
The recordings showed where users struggled; interviews explained why. I spoke with dealership users in the USA, Sweden, France, and the Netherlands.
Users saw potential in ERS; they just could not afford its inefficiencies. The standard workaround was exporting everything to Excel for manual calculation. That single fact carried the redesign case further with stakeholders than any usability score.
Research becomes direction only when the team agrees on what it says. Before design started, the findings went through a readout, an alignment pass with the reference group, and a roadmap.
Interviews, production data, and session recordings synthesized into a single readout, with each user challenge linked to the opportunity it opens.
The team mapped user needs against existing functionality and system constraints, and weighed the trade-offs together. Limitations surfaced here, while changing course was still cheap.
Findings became priorities scoped against implementation effort. Immediate fixes went first; structural changes staged behind them.
Every readout raised questions I had not thought to ask. Keeping stakeholders in the loop cost time each week and repaid it each quarter.
The feature audit found inconsistencies and disconnected workflows, but the structural gap was simpler: users planned with things the IA had no objects for. The new architecture started from what dealers handle in the real world. Contracts, routes, travel plans.
I mapped the domain entities and their attributes with developers and product managers, testing each candidate model against technical constraints before it earned a wireframe.
Everything a dealer needs for one customer conversation lives inside a Simulation: routes on one side, travel plans on the other. Activities sit apart from routes, so each can be managed and reused on its own. One container, one context, no page-hopping.
Wireframes covered the key workflows: route management, vehicle details, travel plans. Their job was to make the new structure discussable. Cheap to change, easy for developers to estimate, ready to be argued with.
The wireframes put the redistribution on screen: features in their new places, workflows shortened, activities split out into Travel Plan. Developers estimated scope from them. Stakeholders read direction from them.
For the reference group, I packaged the prototypes as a session deck rather than a handoff file. The format asked for critique, which is what low fidelity is for.
Users ran the key workflows on the prototype: creating simulations, managing routes, switching vehicle configurations. The Route and Travel Plan separation matched how they already think about the work, and the navigation confusion went with it.
Testing also flagged the refinements: label wording, navigation paths for edge cases. The strongest positive reaction of the round went to real-time energy feedback while editing a travel plan. That confirmed where the tool's value sits.
Each usability gap from testing got folded back into the IA without breaking the structure that had just been validated. The final hierarchy keeps navigation simple and leaves room for features that do not exist yet.
A client buys a few vehicle models, so those sit at the top. Details fill in progressively as the contract clarifies.
Routes stay lean, because one customer rarely needs many. Travel plans multiply as dealers hunt for the most efficient setup, so the page gives them a quick comparison view carrying the parameters that decide.
Route management is waypoints and their parameters, nothing else. A route lives outside any single simulation, so a dealer builds it once and reuses it across every scenario they run for the customer.
The travel plan brings route and vehicle together. Per-waypoint activities like loading, unloading, or a short recharge are edited inline, and the energy impact updates at the top as the plan changes.
The layout borrows from the spreadsheet dealers already trusted. Activities and battery capacity read at a glance; one click expands a waypoint when the detail matters.
Fleet managers reuse consistent configurations, so speed and precision beat flexibility here. Most controls are choice-based: every option visible, no keyboard-mouse switching, less to hold in mind while configuring a truck.
Dealers came back when the tool matched how they sell. Setup dropped from 40 minutes to 10. In user tests, the average satisfaction rating rose 45% compared with the original workflow. One lesson stayed with me: when adoption is low, study the workaround. The dealers' Excel files already showed what the tool should be.