Friday, January 24, 2014

Design Matters--Revisited

Design matters.  When I get into my car and the seat belt nanny bot dings until I fasten my seat belt, I don't feel a sigh of relief that the car company is trying to save my life.  Instead, I see it as a paternalistic intrusion in my life that I resent.  I wear my seat belt as a matter of course.  But if I am driving to my mailbox at the end of the driveway, I don't need big brother Co. telling me to fasten up.

The same goes for keyless car door clickers.  The designers of these products seem to have an autistic sense about them--they know precisely how to make the products work for 1% of the population.  An intuitive design would be one click to unlock all doors.  The next click would lock the car again.  This would require only one button.  Instead, the designers create an overly complex sequence that opens some doors, sometimes opens others, and even sets off a panic mode to scare the hell out of you when it senses you are tired or annoyed.

This panic mode is the bane of my existence.  On my Escape, if you unlock the door with the key too fast, and then open the door, it will set off the alarm.  And this alarm is LOUD.  Your ears ring after hearing it.  The only way to stop this torture is to put the key in the ignition and turn the vehicle off.  Sometimes this works, other times you have to disconnect the battery. 

A friend of mine has a Honda Accord.  I am 5 ft 6, the same size as your average Japanese man.  You would think they would have designed these cars for someone my height given their market--wrong.  You have to be a contortionist to get into this car.  And if you have arthritis and want to get out of it, God help you.  Another lovely feature of the design of this vehicle is the window pillar right behind your left shoulder--perfect for eliminating visibility when changing lanes in heavy traffic. 

If you are a corporation spending millions of dollars to develop and sell a product, you would think someone might consider studying the design implications of their products on usability.  After all, this is only one of the most important things in owning a product.  The genius of Steve Jobs was that he took ordinary things and made them more intuitive to use.  The old mp3 players of yesteryear sucked.  They had a half dozen or more tiny buttons that controlled music playback on the device.  Using them was like programming your VCR--impossible.  By introducing the scroll wheel and a large hard drive with an intuitive menu system that made sense, the iPod revolutionized music playback.  The technology got out of the way and let people actually focus on listening to music instead of screwing around.

This was part of the great design of the iPhone.  The touch screen and intuitive menu system made smartphones accessible. 

Google and its ecosystem of cloud computing products shares a similar simplicity.  With one gmail address, you have access to a world of computing products that can have a dramatic effect on your life.  You can save your important files in the cloud and have them be secure with two step verification, watch Youtube, create spreadsheets and word processing documents that are available to all of your devices immediately, synchronize your calendar, run your voicemail and get visual voicemails on your mobile phone, check your email, back up your photos from all your devices, and much more.  You can restore your lost Android phone in a few minutes without losing your data. 

The bottom line is that design is as important as function.  If you have to interact with a product on a daily basis and that product makes you want to tear your hair out, then you remain alienated from the tools which are designed to make your life better.  Using your consumer goods should be intuitive, fun, and if possible, beautifully designed.  Even the most simple and inexpensive items can be all of these things if the makers of these products spent just a bit more time on design and not just on engineering--or cutting corners to save money.  If the world learned anything from the iPod, it is that corporations can make huge amounts of money by making products people can actually use.

Design Revisited

Design matters.  When I get in my car and the seat belt nanny bot dings until I fasten my seat belt, I don't feel a sigh of relief that the car company is trying to save my life.  Instead, I see it as a paternalistic intrusion in my life that I resent.  I wear my seat belt as a matter of course.  But if I am driving to my mailbox at the end of the driveway, I don't need big brother Co. telling me to fasten up.

The same goes for keyless car door clickers.  The designers of these products seem to have an autistic sense about them--they know precisely how to make the products work for 1% of the population.  An intuitive design would be one click to unlock all doors.  The next click would lock the car again.  This would require only one button.  Instead, the designers create an overly complex sequence that opens some doors, opens others, and even sets off a panic mode to scare the hell out of you.

This panic mode is the bane of my existence.  On my Escape, if you unlock the door with the key too fast, and then open the door, it will set off the alarm.  And this alarm is LOUD.  Your ears ring after hearing it.  The only way to stop this torture is to put the key in the ignition and turn the vehicle off.  Sometimes this works, other times you have to disconnect the battery. 

A friend of mine has a Honda Accord.  I am 5 ft 6, the same size as your average Japanese man.  You would think they would have designed these cars for someone my height given their market--wrong.  You have to be a contortionist to get into this car.  And if you have arthritis and want to get out of it, God help you.  Another lovely feature of the design of this vehicle is the window pillar right behind your left shoulder--perfect for eliminating visibility when changing lanes in heavy traffic. 

If you are a corporation spending millions of dollars to develop and sell a product, you would think someone might consider studying the design implications of their products on usability.  After all, this is only one of the most important things in owning a product.  The genius of Steve Jobs was that he took ordinary things are made them more intuitive to use.  The old mp3 players of yesteryear sucked.  They have a half dozen or more tiny buttons that controlled music playback on the device.  Using them was like programming your VCR--impossible.  By introducing the scroll wheel and a large hard drive with an intuitive menu system that made sense, the iPod revolutionized music playback.  The technology got out of the way and let people actually focus on listening to music instead of screwing around.

This was part of the great design of the iPhone.  The touch screen and intuitive menu system made smartphones accessible. 

Google and its ecosystem of cloud computing products shares a similar simplicity.  With one gmail address, you have access to a world of computing products that can have a dramatic effect on your life.  You can save your important files in the cloud and have them be secure with two step verification, watch Youtube, create spreadsheets and word processing documents that are available to all of your devices immediately, synchronize your calendar, run your voicemail and get visual voicemails on your mobile phone, check your email, back up your photos from all your devices, and much more.  You can restore your lost Android phone in a few minutes without losing your data. 

The bottom line is that design is as important as function.  If you have to interact with a product on a daily basis and that product makes you want to tear your hair out, then you remain alienated from the tools which are designed to make your life better.  Using your consumer goods should be intuitive, fun, and if possible, beautifully designed.  Even the most simple and inexpensive items can be all of these things if the makers of these products spent just a bit more time on design and not just on engineering--or cutting corners to save money.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Cell Phone Etiquette

Technology moves faster than our etiquette.  Knowing social cues and remaining polite is difficult enough, that's why Miss Manners, Dear Abby, and Emily Post had jobs.  Watching the subtle cues for social appropriateness is easier for some than others.  But the rapid introduction of new communication technologies has thrown a curve ball to even some of the most socially savvy folks.

Prior to the introduction of the cell phone, reaching someone meant calling them on a telephone that was hard wired to a fixed location.  Need to talk to someone and they aren't at home or the office?  You will just have to wait.  Want to escape and go for a walk in the woods without being reached?  No problem.  Need a break in your car?  Not a worry.

Now we are expected to answer the phone any time of day or night.  People get pissed if they cannot reach someone.  This leaves no room for people to be unplugged and simply be.  It doesn't take into account having meals, using the bathroom, exercising, or simply visiting uninterrupted with others.  In many ways, it is a real violation of one's privacy when there is a societal expectation of "always on" availability.

For my law office, I only take calls during normal business hours, which are 9 am to 5 pm, Monday through Friday.  If someone calls before or after these times, they are expected to leave a message.  The purpose for this is to keep my time and life segmented in a healthy way.  It is simply too stressful to be dealing with crisis situations at 10 pm.  There needs to be a mental expectation that one can relax and maintain balance in one's life without always being available.  If not, job burnout and poor performance result.

The same goes for visiting with others.  When I go to dinner with someone or I'm having a cup of coffee with friends or family, I don't take calls.  By doing this, I am telling the person who is present they are more important and have my full attention.  It is showing respect for that other person and their time.  They don't need to sit and listen to me chat with someone on a conversation they cannot hear. 

Bathroom breaks are the same.  I'm sorry but if I am using the bathroom, that is private time.  The calls will have to wait.  Hearing another person flush while they are talking is disgusting.  Sorry.

Smartphones make the problem of cell phone etiquette even more complex.  On top of calls, one can receive Facebook messages, Twitter updates, emails, Instagrams, and God knows what else 24/7.  If you are waiting in line at the bank or pharmacy and checking these helps you to pass the time without being impatient and being a dick to the clerk, then fine.  But once you reach the front of the line, put your smartphone away.  Nothing is more rude than taking a call or checking Facebook while the clerk is made to wait. 

If you are visiting with a doctor or lawyer, keep the cell phone put away.  Don't read your text messages.  It tells the person that you aren't fully present and don't value their time.  Be present.  Pay respect to that person. 

Not texting while driving should be a no-brainer.  Unfortunately it is done far too much.  You are better off driving drunk than texting while driving.  Both will get you and others killed quickly.  If you want to use your phone in the car, buy a Bluetooth headset.  Have both eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel.  I can't believe I have to say this, but it is true.

The urge to not check one's phone every few minutes relates to the dopamine reward center of the brain.  Studies have shown that the sensation one gets from checking one's phone is the same as one gets from tasty food and even cocaine use.  It releases dopamine and other "feel good" chemicals in the body.  Yet the will can overcome these urges.  We don't have to be slaves to our machines.

All of this doesn't mean getting rid of your cell phone.  It does mean letting the cell phone remain a tool and you not becoming a tool.  That is the difference.