Validating exploratory visuals as concept elicitation tools: A semiotic analysis of agreement and interpretive diversity in the My Story Cards wellbeing instrument
This study employs a social semiotic analysis of 100 psychology students' responses to validate the "My Story Cards" visual instrument, finding that while the visuals effectively elicit rich, autobiographical, and metaphorical interpretations with generally high conceptual recognition, concrete images yield greater agreement than abstract ones, suggesting specific design refinements are needed to optimize communicative clarity.
Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer
In the study of human wellbeing, researchers have long relied on words to ask people how they feel, what they value, and what makes their lives meaningful. But words can sometimes feel too rigid, forcing complex emotions into neat boxes that do not quite fit. For decades, psychologists and health experts have turned to pictures as an alternative, hoping that an image might unlock memories or feelings that a direct question cannot reach. This approach, known as visual elicitation, assumes that a picture can act as a bridge, allowing a person to project their own life story onto a scene and speak more freely about their inner world. However, a critical question has remained unanswered: do these pictures actually say what the researchers think they say? If a scientist draws a picture to represent "health," will a participant see "health," or will they see something entirely different, like "struggle" or "loneliness"? Without knowing this, the pictures might lead the researcher down the wrong path, collecting stories that have nothing to do with the concept they intended to study.
A team of researchers at the University of New South Wales set out to solve this puzzle by testing a specific set of tools called the My Story Cards. These are not random photographs found in a magazine; they are carefully designed cartoon-style images created specifically to represent abstract ideas like family, identity, and decision-making. The researchers wanted to know if these drawings could successfully communicate their intended meanings to a group of people while still leaving enough room for those people to bring their own personal experiences to the picture. To find out, they gathered 100 first-year psychology students and asked them to look at 14 different images and 14 matching words. For each one, the students had to write down what the image or word meant to them, what it reminded them of, and how it related to their own lives. The goal was to see where the group agreed on the meaning and where their interpretations began to drift apart.
The results revealed a clear pattern in how people read pictures. When the images showed concrete, everyday things—like a house, a group of friends playing, or a couple sitting together—almost everyone saw the same thing. In these cases, agreement was nearly perfect, with 97 to 100 percent of participants recognizing the intended concept. A picture of a house was universally understood as a home, and a picture of a rock climber was widely seen as a symbol of challenge or perseverance. These images worked because they offered a solid anchor; the viewer could easily identify the object, and from that shared starting point, they could build their own personal stories about safety, struggle, or achievement. The researchers found that these concrete visuals were excellent at getting everyone on the same page without forcing a single, rigid interpretation.
However, the study also uncovered where the pictures struggled to communicate clearly. When the images tried to represent more complex or abstract ideas, the agreement dropped significantly. One image, which showed a family walking hand-in-hand toward a bright horizon to represent "the future," was understood by only 17 percent of participants as being about the future. Most people saw the family and the walk, but they did not immediately connect those elements to the concept of time ahead. Similarly, a picture of a person running to represent "health" was recognized as health by only 21 percent of the group. Most saw it simply as exercise or running. The researchers concluded that while the image successfully captured the physical side of health, it failed to communicate the broader, more complex idea of overall wellbeing, which includes mental and emotional states. In these cases, the picture was too narrow, focusing on one specific action rather than the whole concept.
What made the study particularly interesting was how the pictures compared to the words. When the researchers asked the same students to respond to the words "health" or "the future" instead of the images, the answers were more precise and analytical. The words acted like a label, telling the participant exactly what topic to discuss. But the pictures did something different. They invited the students to feel and imagine. The images generated more emotional responses, more personal memories, and more metaphors than the words did. A picture of a mirror, for instance, prompted students to write about self-doubt, wearing a mask, or questioning who they were, whereas the word "identity" led to more straightforward definitions. The pictures were better at unlocking deep, personal stories, but they required the viewer to do more work to figure out what the image was trying to say.
The researchers used a framework called social semiotics to understand why some pictures worked better than others. This approach looks at how images are built and how they guide a viewer's attention. They found that the most successful images balanced two things: they needed to be recognizable enough to be understood, but open enough to allow for personal meaning. A picture that was too vague left people confused, while a picture that was too specific limited their imagination. The study suggests that for visual tools to be effective, they must be tested with real people to ensure they are not sending the wrong message. The researchers identified two specific cards—the one for "the future" and the one for "health"—that needed to be redesigned to better capture their full meaning.
Ultimately, the study confirmed that pictures are powerful tools for understanding human experience, but they are not perfect. They do not transmit a single, fixed meaning like a dictionary definition. Instead, they offer a space where a shared visual anchor meets a person's unique life history. The best visual tools are those that establish a clear starting point, like a house or a path, and then step back to let the viewer fill in the rest with their own hopes, fears, and memories. By validating these images through careful testing, the researchers showed that we can use pictures to explore the depths of human wellbeing, provided we understand that a picture is not just a definition, but a conversation starter that requires both the artist and the viewer to participate.
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