Skip to content →

Category: value

iPad and the new Puritanism

The framing of the debate in advance of the availability of the iPad device has centered around control of the words “freedom, choice and health.” The reactionary forces claim the iPad will be detrimental to all three. Within minutes of the conclusion of Steve Jobs’s presentation, the swiftboating of the iPad was under way. Our freedoms are being curtailed; our choices limited and the health of the ecosystem is threatened. The iPad is a deviation from the one true path.

Another vector of dissatisfaction involves the paternity of the iPad. One look at its features and cognitive dissonance sets in among its detractors. Surely a tablet computer is the child of the laptop– what happened to all the ports, the keyboard; where’s the operating system? This Jobs fellow has disfigured the child, removing ports to satisfy some twisted personal vision— and, no doubt, because he hates our freedoms.

But the iPad is the child of the iPhone, not the laptop. There never was a physical keyboard, the ports are the same and so is the operating system. You can’t remove a port that was never there. The child resembles its parent in every way. Although, one must admit, it’s quite unusual for the child to be larger than the parent. Brian Dear, who has criticisms of his own, may have captured the seed of the idea in an interaction between Steve Jobs and Alan Kay:

…Steve announced the iPhone for the first time to the public. After the event, Alan recalled Steve walking up to him to show him the new iPhone in person. He asked Alan, “So, did we build something worth criticizing?” Alan recalls telling him sure, but if you could just make the screen 5″ by 8″, you would take over the world. Steve’s eyes apparently lit up.

The iPad is definitely worth criticizing. And what can you say about a product when both people who love it, and those who hate it, admit they must buy it? Its significance is big enough that simply withholding attention and comment will have little effect on the course of events. You’ll have to pick the device up and touch the glass.

In advance of holding one in my hands, there are two areas I’d like to explore where it looks like the iPad will open doors and make new connections possible.

While we attribute much of the success of the human species to our brains, we owe an equal amount to the dexterity and power of our hands. While the power of thought enables us to apply levels of abstraction to the world; it’s the fine motor control over our hands that allows us to bring these ideas into the world. Apple made a significant design decision when they chose the hand over the stylus, the scrollwheel, the trackball and the physical keyboard. Our fingertip touching the glass makes a direct connection to the virtual controls. This is both a technical and an emotional interaction point. The pleasure derived from the multi-touch interface with real-time responsiveness will quickly make it the most desirable and the most used.

The larger multi-touch interaction surface of the iPad will open the door to a whole range of personal computing gestures. It’s likely that electronic gaming will lead the way, and this is where users will try out thousands of new gestures — some will rise to the top and become defacto standards. Here the opposable thumb, the power grip and the precision grip will expand their repertoire to include the pinch, the spread, the swipe, the twist and others. And the accelerometer expands this interaction model into three dimensions.

And while Apple isn’t the only company whose worked extensively on these new interaction models, they get first mover advantage for introducing the tablet computer in 2007 and calling it a telephone. Creating a product in the lab is one thing, but putting a product on the street and getting uptake is another entirely. We’re seeing the new digital network joined to the original digital network.

Another kind of interaction that the iPad will change is the technology-mediated consultation. In these scenarios, typically the client gives the professional a bunch of personal data. That data is entered into a laptop or a desktop, numbers are crunched, reports formatted and then presented to the client in a meeting. The technology introduces large breaks into the human interaction. Melanie Rodier in her post for Wall Street & Technology asked whether the iPad has a place in the capital markets:

“I see the laptop as not a good collaborative tool,� he explains. A laptop computer acts as a barrier between the adviser and client, since it is only one person (presumably the adviser) who will handle the keyboard, hit the return key and flip the computer round to face the client.

On the other hand, with an iPad, you can reach over and touch the screen, instead of having to navigate with a button or a mouse.  “With the iPad, an adviser could navigate better, sweep pages across, look at a client’s financial plan and statements, and work more collaboratively side by side. It’s a subtle difference. The touch-screen means you can sit on the same side of the table, work as a partner,� Dannemiller adds.

This kind of change isn’t necessarily in the algorithms used to crunch the data, but rather in the human interaction— the human transaction between the parties. The bond between the consultant and client is strengthened, as is the connection between the client and her data. The tablet format changes the sheer physicality of the interaction. The affordances, or action possibilities, of the consultation are no longer dominated or broken by the technical mediation. The devices recede to allow the people to connect.

The new Puritans have sprung up to save us all from this new impure device. Somehow I’m reminded of the early reaction to Elvis Presley, or when Dylan went electric. The iPad has abandoned the folk movement, it’s sold out, it’s left the one true path of protest music. The iPad smiles and looks askance. “Well, I just think of myself as a song and dance man. You know…”

The Puritans have coalesced around the mantra of “open.” For the Web, HTML5 is the sacred book— although it is unfinished, and there are still many sects within the fold. A specification isn’t a platform, so HTML5 must extend its control through the major denominations: Webkit, Gecko, Trident, KHTML and Presto. When we say, for instance, that HTML5 supports the H.264 video codec, what we’re really saying is that a runtime plugin for that media type must ship with all orthodox HTML layout engines. On this point of scripture, the Gecko sect has reservations. Runtimes outside the Holy stack are strictly the devil’s work.

But purity is just a myth. Dylan’s electric music had elements of the folk song; and his folk songs had elements of rock and roll. At bottom the “closed” iPhone OS was built up from the open source Darwin operating system. And Darwin had its roots in Berkeley Unix. If you want to build an “open” iPhone OS, you can take the same raw materials and knock yourself out.

The real question is what does it take to break through? To create a new kind of computing experience, not in the labs, but in people’s homes, in the cafes, schools and businesses. The answer isn’t in feature sets, ports or adhering to technical religious dogma. When you pick the device up, does it make you want to dance? I know that the puritans have forbidden dance. They’ve given us stern warnings about what will happen if we dance with this new partner. But when you put your fingers on the glass, do you feel a tingling in your toes?

One Comment

Twitter Lists, Track and Broadcasting

I’ve been trying to understand what Twitter lists are good for. Both Twitter’s new retweet feature and the list feature are imports from FriendFeed. Even in its current state, FriendFeed continues to be the R&D department for social media.

The thing I find uninteresting about lists is the fact that they’re mostly static— they simply serve as a kind of personal taxonomy. These Twitter users belong in this category. This is where we begin to feel the loss of track + filters. The assembly of a network of connected micro-messages around a set of keywords and run through a filter does what lists do dynamically and in real time. With the release of Twitter’s streaming API, nicknamed birddog, it’s possible we’ll start to see track-like features return— at least for subsets of the firehose. Manually curated lists at the level of classification are just a replay of RSS readers.

There are those who will say that if you’re using Twitter in a one-to-many broadcast mode, you’re not doing it right. But I think it’s pretty well established that Twitter is ambiguous and flexible enough to accommodate many modes of use simultaneously. Twitter lists strike me as a particularly good tool for news organizations.

If the New York Times or CNN has a team of journalists, photographers, videographers and radio journalists covering a breaking story like the earthquake in Haiti, a Twitter list would be a compact way to deliver coverage. Hyperlinks within the tweets could send readers off to breaking news, in-depth backgrounders and ongoing live conversations. CNN’s list and the New York Times’s list would be differentiated by who was on each coverage team and the editorial approach of each news organization. The list would exist for the duration of the story.

Rather than serving as part of a taxonomy, or classification of Twitter users— the list would define individuals with a common purpose— covering the Haiti earthquake, or the Senate race in Massachusetts. Each news organization might have a set of active lists ongoing at any time. The more specific and real time the list, the more valuable it would be.

Of course, someone might create a list of all the news organizations covering a breaking story. But I think the effect of this would be to dilute the value of the stream rather than enhance it. You could also make the argument that the hashtag and the wisdom of the crowd would ultimately provide equal or better coverage. However, it’s not necessary to choose between one approach and the other. Each will ultimately include elements of the other.

The television medium is destabilizing and being absorbed into the real-time Network. While newspapers and television used to consider the Internet as a medium for the re-purposing and re-use of content, soon the reverse will be true. The real-time Network will be the primary publication vehicle with television and newspapers becoming containers for re-use.

And, of course, I use the word Twitter as a synecdoche. (A specific class name used to refer to a general set of associated things)

2 Comments

Collections, Time, Distance: From Medium to Meta-Data

These are interesting times for the collector. Collections of books, records, DVDs— these all used to matter. What does his bookshelf say about him? And did you get a look at his record collection? I never knew he collected DVDs of musicals with music by Cole Porter.

As the underlying media that holds these recordings moves toward the digital, the bookshelf and the record cabinet give way to the computer hard drive. The physical limitations of the bookshelf no longer trouble us. We can collect to our heart’s content.

Once we have every piece of music as a digital file on a hard drive, our relationship to the music is displaced from the recording medium (vinyl, tape, cd) to the meta-data about the file. We have no relationship with the bits stored on the disk. If asked to point to which bits represent which song, we would be unable to do so. So instead, we now relate to meta-data in an index. The index of titles assures us that we have indeed collected 20 versions of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. We can push this button, or that one, and call up the file to be played on a connected sound system.

When my music collection was encoded on vinyl platters, I had a direct relationship with the medium. I was careful not to scratch the vinyl. The record was kept in a paper sleeve that fit into a cardboard album cover. For very special records, I’d keep the album in a protective plastic covering so the artwork on the album cover wouldn’t get worn. I used a fairly complex system to clean the records with a special liquid and a brush. I have no such specific relationship with the bits that now hold much of the music that I ‘own.’

In fact, it’s largely a matter of faith that the bits I think I own are physically located on my hard drive. Frankly, the bits could be anywhere. In this relationship, all I care about is the latency between when I locate the song in the index and push the button that connects it to the sound system, and when the music comes out of the speakers. Increments of time displace the qualities of physical extension.

David Gelernter’s manifesto, The Second Coming gets to these changes very directly:

Today’s operating systems and browsers are obsolete because people no longer want to be connected to computers — near ones OR remote ones. (They probably never did). They want to be connected to information. In the future, people are connected to cyberbodies; cyberbodies drift in the computational cosmos — also known as the Swarm, the Cybersphere.

Where a song encoded as bits is doesn’t really matter. I’m only interested in what action creates the connection between the meta-data in the index, the stream of data from the file, and a system that can decode that stream into audible sound. At this moment in history, physical proximity along with wires and plugs seem to be the best guarantee of delivery of the stream with a minimum of latency. Once that service level agreement can be met via the Network, the local and the remote become displaced by the service contract. Apple’s interest in LaLa.com’s approach to collections of music reflects a recognition of how this relationship is changing as a matter of practice.

Real collectors, the completists, often don’t open the package, don’t interact with the collected item in any way that would damage its potential value. While actual contact is minimal, physical delivery of the items is important. A collector of digital bits collects meta-data in an index; however the emotion and the ritual of collection doesn’t really transfer to the digital realm.

As we make these transitions to the digital, we need to renew our understanding the metaphors we use to navigate this space. We take them granted, we assume desktops, two-dimensional screens, files and folders. Even the idea of name spaces could use rethinking.

Once again, Gelernter on how we create models from metaphors, and how those models are going to change by incorporating time (tangible time = the stream):

34. In the beginning, computers dealt mainly in numbers and words. Today they deal mainly with pictures. In a new period now emerging, they will deal mainly with tangible time — time made visible and concrete. Chronologies and timelines tend to be awkward in the off-computer world of paper, but they are natural online.

35. Computers make alphabetical order obsolete.

36. File cabinets and human minds are information-storage systems. We could model computerized information-storage on the mind instead of the file cabinet if we wanted to.

37. Elements stored in a mind do not have names and are not organized into folders; are retrieved not by name or folder but by contents. (Hear a voice, think of a face: you’ve retrieved a memory that contains the voice as one component.) You can see everything in your memory from the standpoint of past, present and future. Using a file cabinet, you classify information when you put it in; minds classify information when it is taken out. (Yesterday afternoon at four you stood with Natasha on Fifth Avenue in the rain — as you might recall when you are thinking about “Fifth Avenue,” “rain,” “Natasha” or many other things. But you attached no such labels to the memory when you acquired it. The classification happened retrospectively.)

4 Comments

Feeding on a Collection of Channels (57 Channels and Nothin’ On)

vhf_tv_knob

It’s slipping into time out of mind, that knob with 13 positions that lined up with the VHF broadcast television channels. The first time I really understood it, there was only signal available at four of the dial positions. The other channels broadcast a static pattern that was called ‘snow.’ One had the sense that there could be signal coming through these channels and through the extended set of numbers available through the UHF dial as well. The reality was the vast majority of the channels provided only snow. In Sweden, Denmark and Hungary snow is called ‘the war of the ants.’

The channel is a very powerful metaphor. When cable-based replaced over-the-air broadcast as a means of delivering video signal to a television the number of channels carrying signal exploded. The increase in the number of channels fundamentally changed the distribution of programming. Where in the past, three or four channels bore the responsibility for the whole range of human endeavor from news and public affairs to sports, to comedy and drama— now each of these domains could have their own channel. And so we see a sports channel, a news channel, a cooking channel, a movie channel, a comedy channel, etc.

One effect of this expansion mirrors that of professional sports leagues. When a league goes from 12 teams to 24 teams, the talent pool is diluted. Now imagine the quality of play if Major League Baseball were to expand to 500 teams. On the one hand, we might talk about the economics of abundance and how in this new democratized environment, anyone can have a professional baseball team. But there would be a fundamental shift in how we valued viewing baseball games and the importance of baseball in general.

Baseball has a method of dealing with this problem. The teams and players are assigned to leagues, and the leagues roughly approximate levels of talent. League size is collared by the relationship between the availability of talent and the quality of the on-field product. There’s the major leagues, triple A, double A and single A. And then there are the various international leagues. Talent rises within a league until it moves to the next level. Vaudeville worked in the same way, there are many interconnected networks that have this kind of relationship. Economies of talent form within these pools, when talent reaches a certain level it is pulled up to the next level.

The proliferation of cable television channels has changed the value of a channel. When there are 500 channels to choose from, the channel itself ceases to be important. Even with 500 channels, it’s often the case that there’s nothing on. In the early days of cable televsion, 57 channels seemed like a huge number— this may have been the first time that we noticed that even with 57 distinct channels, there was rarely anything worth watching. René Giesbertz takes inspiration from Bruce Springsteen’s song ’57 Channels and Nothin’ On’ to explore what the experience of layering the sound of 57 television channels one on top of the other.

As cable television begins to migrate into the Network, the channel begins to merge into the feed. We move from having too many cable channels to an infinite number of data feeds. The dial is expanded to an infinite number of positions and the cost of broadcasting on one of these channels is minimal. The breakdown into finer and finer categories of broadcasting continues. Bathroom scales broadcast weighing events by user, shoes collect and broadcast running data, Twitter captures and broadcasts a whole range of miscellany. When the cost goes low enough, there’s no reason that everything that can emit state and event data shouldn’t be equipped to broadcast via a unique feed.

Just as the channel is meaningless when there are 500 of them, feeds are meaningless when there’s an infinite number of them. Aggregating data at the feed level doesn’t amount to much in an abundant feed economy. It’s the equivalent of aggregating cable television at the channel level. We don’t watch channels or read feeds, we’re interested in specific items. We surf from item to item, looking for signals along the way to tell us what’s important, what’s valuable. The channel, or feed, encasing the item in a sequence is a low-value clue in a rich information environment. The dial is no longer an adequate navigation interface where we have instant, direct random access to each and every item/program.

While the new metaphor hasn’t come completely into focus yet, the real-time web begins to point the way. There are two primary modes of interaction with items: now and later. We either interact now in real-time, or we defer until a later real-time. The third mode is elimination of an item from the consideration set. Rather than endlessly switching channels, we need an environment rich with signals and pointers to tell us whether or not something is going on. And perhaps even more important, we need to be able to tell when there’s nothing happening. Whether there are 4 channels, 57 channels, 500 channels or an infinite number of channels— it’s still quite possible that, in this real-time moment, there’s nothin’ on.

Comments closed