I started using a naked app last week on my iPhone. No, I’m not talking about some new variant on Scruff or Grindr, but an app that is completely naked in terms of UI controls. There’s no buttons, checkboxes, menus or sliders. The entire interface is gesture driven, and should be applauded in terms of looking at a touch screen interface as a mechanism of breaking away from old UI habits.

TODO list apps (otherwise known as GTDs – Getting Things Done) have been a dime a dozen on the App Store – input a set of tasks, mark them off as you’re done. Sometimes that’s as simple as they get, and other times they’re significantly more complex, akin to a primitive version of project management software, having subtasks, due dates, etc.

Yet, much as I always set out to use a TODO app with good intentions, they always last just a few weeks before I give up on them.

Over the last week I’ve been trying out a new style of TODO app though, Clear, and it’s making me re-evaluate why I fail at TODO apps over time. One possible explanation is they’re fiddly. When I want to jot a TODO item I want to do it really quickly. If I’m waiting for the app to launch, then need to click a button, enter text, click “Done” or some other input-complete button, there’s sometimes seemingly as much time spent on meta activities as there is on the actual input.

Clear’s innovative interface process is completely gestural, ditching all buttons, etc., in favour of:

  • Pinching in to collapse interface areas back to their parent menu;
  • Swiping to complete or delete tasks, or to switch between sections of the program;
  • Pulling up, down, pinching out to create new tasks in specific locations;
  • Dragging tasks to position them, assigning priority.

All of that may sound a bit odd, so here’s some examples:

 

Pinching apart to create a new task list

The above shows the “Category list” – TODO items are lumped into different categories; in the example above, I’ve got 3 existing categories, “Blogging”, “Personal” and “Work”. Having pinched apart I get a new category list which I can name, thusly:

New category list

Tapping on a category list goes into the list, and from there you can start adding items. Since it’s the first item, you can either drag up or drag down:

 

Drag down to create a new task

Once you’ve got a couple of tasks, you can equally start to use the pinch-out gesture to create new TODO items in between those existing tasks:

Pinching apart to create a new task

When tasks are complete, you can swipe left-to-right against the task to mark it complete:

Swipe left to close a task

Alternately, if you’re not going to complete the task and want it gone, swipe right-to-left against it to flag it for deletion:

Swipe to delete a task

When you’ve gone manipulating a list of tasks and you want to return to the task categories, you can pinch the entire list to collapse it:

Collapsing a task list

Demonstrating a gestural interface via screenshots is of course problematic at best. There’s a demo on the Realmac Software homepage, which you really should watch – check it out here.

One of the things I’m already appreciating about Clear, outside of the gestural interface, is the contextual badges for the icon. This is optional, but worth using; if you close Clear when you’re at the category list, the App icon badge will reflect all outstanding tasks. If you’re in a task list, the contextual icon badge will reflect just the number of outstanding tasks in that list.

Whether I stick with this application or not is yet to be determined – I’m still within that grace period of the first two weeks where I’m keen to keep myself organised. However, this is truly a fascinating approach – a naked app, graceful and without conventional UI controls that we’ve grown accustomed to over the last 20+ years of computing. Proof that interfaces can still evolve.

What’s missing?

Pretty much every list app I’ve used has had some form of reminder interface. I recognise getting this built into a gestural interface may be a challenge, and while for some people it may be a “killer feature” that’s required, I struggle to think of how it could be done gesturally. (Then again, I probably couldn’t have imagined Clear at all to start with.)

So, I recognise it would be dangerous to add it in – that this may very well rob Clear of the simplistic elegance it currently has. I’ll also note something – whenever I use TODO style apps and set reminders, those reminders end up annoying the hell out of me. Maybe that’s why I end up dropping those apps; like Eddie in ab-fab throwing her digital diary out the window when it gives one too many annoying alarms, it could very well be that my tolerance for chirping reminders about tasks at seemingly inappropriate times every time is just such an irksome process that it actually degrades the experience.

So I hesitate to say that it’s a missing feature, because I’m enjoying the “no pressure” nature of it. I can’t specify due dates and/or times for tasks, so I can’t resent it triggering reminders, or worrying about exactly when I should flag an item as being done.

How would I rate it?

4.5 out of 5. This has significant merit and will likely trigger a wave of similar behaving apps, both in this space and in other spaces – but Clear most certainly deserves credit for getting the ball rolling.

 

Apple Family

A few days ago a University buddy asked me if I’d mind blogging about the factors that led me to the point of being such a strong Apple enthusiast. I’d like, from the outset, to clarify that I’m not a fanboy. I’m a technologist; indeed, frequently those who lump me into the “fanboy” category usually end up being fanboys themselves of some other product or vendor.

I’ve been using computers for a very long time. My first computer was a Vic-20, and even back then I started programming. I was intent on writing a database to keep track of names and facial features of people I knew: I was always terrible with names, and since my childhood dream was to become a mad scientist, I clearly needed a way of keeping track of my minions and peons.

The Vic-20 was replaced by a Commodore 64, which in turn was replaced by my first PC. Each computer I’ve owned became an exercise in power and long-term viability; the Vic-20 got a 19KB RAM expansion unit; the C64 got 2 floppy drives and a 512KB RAM expansion unit. The first PC came with a whopping 40MB hard drive and I skipped over 5 1/4 inch floppies, getting it just with a 3 1/2 inch drive instead.

At high school I had a fairly strong exposure to Apple – the Apple IIe was the primary educational computer then, and we had about 12 or 16 of them, with a IIc added to them over time. Somewhere along the line a IIgs arrived, and I certainly fell in love with that beastie. Towards the end of high school, we had a bunch of Macs as well; checking through apple-history I’m fairly certain they were SEs, without the hard drive.

By the time I got to University, I was already programming heavily in Pascal. I’d started with G Pascal while still on the Commodore 64, and already had Turbo Pascal before I got to Uni on my PC.

I was, by all definitions of the word, a geek. My first PC was just a 286, and so for the first year of Uni I was limited to Windows. I managed to buy a friend’s 386 though sometime in second year University; by that stage I’d discovered Unix and fell in love with it; by second year Uni I was living in a granny flat that had more of a studio arrangement, and I distinctly remember regularly going to sleep listening to a hard drive whirring and lights flashing as my Linux workstation took the 6+ hours to recompile the kernel.

Other than a bit of programming work in it, that was the point where I pretty much ditched Windows. By the time I graduated and bought my first Pentium class PC, I had a Windows/Linux dual boot arrangement that saw me boot into Windows 95 about once every 6 months.

I had become a Linux fanboy.

The ironic thing of course was that I was rapidly heading towards meeting Darren, circa October 1996, and he used what by that stage was a completely foreign operating system to me – a toy operating system: Mac OS.

By the time I met Darren, Apple had either finished the acquisition of or were well and truly along the way of acquiring NeXT, and with it, Steve Jobs. I remember our first morning together having coffee on the balcony and me expressing incredulity that someone otherwise so intelligent and technically savvy would be so passionate about and defensive of Apple. Mac OS, I practically sneered, was a toy operating system that didn’t even have command line functionality, and therefore was pointless for any sort of “power use” scenario.

Somehow we survived that gulf, probably from a mutual decision to not press each others’ buttons on it too much. I continued down the PC running Linux path for the first several years of our relationship, and he kept on going with the Mac.

By the time Mac OS X was introduced, I’d used Darren’s various computers enough that I had a passing familiarity of but still largely contemptuous opinion of the interface.

Things started to change with OS X – not in terms of me immediately jumping across, but definitely getting more interested. A full Unix back end to the operating system suddenly made it, in my not so humble opinion at the time, capable of being a ‘real’ operating system.

I didn’t convert until sometime after the introduction of Mac OS X 10.4 – Tiger, and ultimately my conversion was based on 2 reasons, being:

  • Interoperability
  • Best of Both Worlds

Once I jumped across, those 2 key reasons were joined by another:

  • Efficiency

Interoperability was the initial driving force. By the time I transitioned, USB was rapidly becoming the de facto standard for device connectivity (thanks of course, to Apple), and to be perfectly blunt, Linux sucked at handling USB. And for large values of “suck”. At that point I was still quite a strong Palm user, and naturally one of the things I liked being able to do with to Sync my Palm with my desktop. I’d previously been able to do that without issue when Palm was still interfacing via serial connectors, but the latest Palms with USB connectivity seemed a nightmare under Linux. It was a perpetual game of chasing my own tail – I’d plug the Palm into USB Port 1, and the sync software would seemingly detect Port 1 was busy, so it would try to sync against Port 2. Swap, and the sync software would reverse. There was, without a doubt, very special magic required to sync a USB Palm Pilot to a Linux desktop in the early days – and despite four years of University and a desire to work from the command line, it escaped me.

Printers, too, were a nightmare. Unix printing in fact generally was until CUPS came along, but while CUPS gave some relief from the nightmare of Unix printing, it was about as friendly to interact with as a scratch to the scrotum from a rabies infected monkey would be. And I wasn’t alone in my view on this – Eric Raymond, open source placard bearer, found it a nightmare to work with himself, writing this famous attack on it here. Indeed, Eric’s final 6 questions to Linux hacker/developers are, to me, the core of what was wrong with Linux when I decided to leave it:

  1. What does my software look like to a non-technical user who has never seen it before?
  2. Is there any screen in my GUI that is a dead end, without giving guidance further into the system?
  3. The requirement that end-users read documentation is a sign of UI design failure. Is my UI design a failure?
  4. For technical tasks that do require documentation, do they fail to mention critical defaults?
  5. Does my project welcome and respond to usability feedback from non-expert users?
  6. And, most importantly of all…do I allow my users the precious luxury of ignorance?

Those questions are reflective of a problem that still remains with Linux. It is still, so often, written from a hacker mentality point of view. Oh, I know that these days the majority of contributions to the source and the surrounding packages come from some form of commercial entity, but even the people involved in those entities for the most part have that core-geek view of slotting in every possible option except an easy to use interface.

Interoperability didn’t just come in terms of hardware though, it also applied at the software level. Multimedia was a big bug-bear for me by this stage. Every time I changed distribution or upgraded the distribution I was using, I’d have to go through the tedious process of recompiling my kernel to support my sound card. I’d have to work through all the magical mystical options to get DVD playing working, and I’d have to hope like hell that all the planets were in alignment if I wanted to burn a CD. If I wanted to play a multimedia file, I could usually kiss my arse – while there were some player options available, the gap between when a new media format was released and when it would be supported was often huge, and highly dependent on whether or not the format could be successfully reverse engineered.

I should note – I was in an engineering role, at a highly technical-focused company, and all technical staff were running Linux. I was literally being exposed to it for sometimes up to 20 hours a day without fail, and it was still getting the better of me.

By this stage I’d been commuting for a few years, and my way for the most part in dealing with commuting was music. I started with commercial CDs, but carrying a pack of every possible CD I might want to listen to became cumbersome, so I’d transitioned to having a generous amount of my music in MP3 format on my laptop. However, laptop batteries back in those days weren’t really all that great, and nor was laptop CPU performance, so playing music the entire way through a 1.5 hour commute (if not longer – this was NSW Cityrail, after all!) could be a real pain. So having started with some cheap and nasty Creative device, by the time the iPod came out, I was convinced I wanted and needed it. The only problem, of course, was that it connected via Firewire; the easiest solution to transfer music onto it was to periodically plug it into Darren’s Mac. While there were some Linux based iPod management options, these were mostly developed around the notion of hacking the iPod, and after using it only for a few hours there was no chance in hell I was going to replace its operating system with something else. Of course, Linux support for Firewire was also very poor, which didn’t help.

In 2005 though, a new iPod came out, which supported the dock, and by virtue of that, a USB connector rather than a Firewire connector. “Great”, I thought, “Finally an iPod that I’ll be able to seamlessly sync under Linux”.

What.

A.

Joke.

Linux handled the USB connected iPod about as well as it handled the Palm, and this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I was, to be perfectly frank, at a point in my life where I was tired of needing to be thinking like a full computer scientist and programmer every time I wanted to use my computer, or needing to “hack” any consumer device I wanted to attach to it to make it “better”. So one bright Saturday afternoon with an iPod I still couldn’t use against my own computer, I slammed my head against the wall for the last time in frustration, roared “Enough is enough!” and decided to switch.

There was only one direction to go, of course. Windows was a steaming pile of virus riddled shit, with XP at the height of its popularity. It was buggy as all hell, despite all of Microsoft’s promises as to its stability, and the command line in it was out of the stone age. On the other hand, Mac OS X offered the best of both worlds – a full GUI with excellent compatibility and interoperability, and a powerful Unix back-end that would let me drop to the shell and work as quickly as I wanted to as well.

So I bought a 17″ eMac with a 1.25GHz PPC G4 CPU, 512MB of RAM and an 80GB hard drive. It got quickly upgraded to 1GB of RAM (the maximum for the eMac), but within a few hours of bringing it home I was already somewhat in awe and changing my opinion on the Mac. Of course, part of that came from the “new toy syndrome” that plagues most geeks – give us anything new and different and we’ll usually be all over it like a flash. Due to the similarities though in file format, I was pretty impressed at being able to just copy my mail folders across from my Linux machine to the eMac and importing the mail. 4+GB of email that I’d accumulated over 8 or so years imported with minimum fuss, leaving me feeling pretty satisfied at the switching almost right from the start.

To be sure, there were some things that bugged me; the last time I’d used any Apple computer with any regularity was during high school, so there was the standard interface learning curve, and having been used to being able to assign so many keyboard shortcuts and use multi-button mice, the invocation of contextual menus and bigger need to use the menu bar took a while getting used to. (These days, the ongoing enhancements made by Apple as well as my stronger knowledge of keyboard shortcuts means that I can readily launch an app without going near the dock, do what I need to get done, and quit, all without having gone near the menu.)

One day, a couple of months into my switch, whilst still using Linux on a daily basis on my work laptop, I had an epiphany. Because of the interoperability, and because of the best of both worlds, and because of the human/user interface design principles of the operating system, I was having a very different user experience on the Mac as I was having on Linux:

  • I was efficient on Mac OS X, and
  • I was full of creative inertia on Linux.

Whenever I sat in front of my Mac desktop, I got things done. The operating system really was like a butler – it was there to help you when you needed it, but as much as possible stayed out of your way. (That comparison by the way comes from this Network Computing article from 2007, which compared Mac OS X to Windows Vista. To be fair, any comparison between OS X and Linux at the time would have been even more one-sided.)

Every time I tried to use Linux for anything productive (at least, outside of genuine work tasks), I’d find myself endlessly tweaking and optimising. I was busy, without being productive. I’d start things and not finish them. I’d get easily distracted, I’d fall into old habits and mistake busyness with productivity. We often equate the two terms to meaning the same thing, but they can be so far apart that they don’t even overlap, were to you draw them as a Venn diagram.

(It took me a while after that, but I should note that I’ve subsequently come to terms with (and this is why I now call myself a technologist) the fact that just because I’m more efficient on Mac OS X, doesn’t mean that the same will apply to everyone. Disregarding Linux as a desktop environment and comparing directly to Windows, it’s patently clear that Windows and Mac OS X have radically different user experiences and processes, yet some people are very productive on Windows too.)

Over time it’s become apparent to me that Apple grasped a couple of fundamental aspects to computing (regardless of whether it’s desktop, portable or mobile) that all the other computer companies failed to get. In fact, that most of them continue to fail to get:

  1. The real core target market for computers and computing devices are consumers, not workers and most certainly not technical users.
  2. The entire history of humankind is littered with the premise that while technology becomes more complex, our interaction becomes simpler.

This is something I’ve written about before – and rather than rehash the argument, I’ll link to it here.

I still have a keen interest in computing. I may not approach it from a rigorous math background like so many Universities focus on, but I am a computer scientist, and the theoretical nature of this industry fascinates and excites me like few other things on the planet do. The net has become like a sixth sense to me; I feel like I’m missing a limb when I’m without it, and despite what some people think, this is the future: highly connected people able to access information in the blink of an eye and communicate with not only the people around them, but people anywhere else on the planet. It will be, without a doubt, a singularity in and of itself, regardless of whether a machine-sentience singularity is reached or not.

But regardless of where my interests lay, what I’m most certain about is that computers are no longer an end in themselves for me; they’re a means to an end. That end may be some productive task, or it may be communicating, or it may be, as I’ve recently rediscovered, playing a game. Just as I don’t go out into the kitchen to idly fiddle around with a toaster, I don’t sit down at a computer to idly fiddle around with it. I sit down to use it. And the user in me – the consumer wants something that just works.

For me, that’s Apple.

 

 

Selling down Apple

In most lines of work, there’s a word we use to describe people who consistently fail at their jobs. Whether it’s a system administrator who constantly does the wrong thing and crashes servers, or a checkout assistant who breaks eggs every time he places them in a bag, or blood test analyst who constantly sends back inverse results, the one word eventually has to be used to describe their work:

incompetent

That’s not to say that they’re incapable of working, but eventually if we were their boss, we’d suggest that they may want to move on to another job that they may fare better at.

Yet, there appears to be a line of work where incompetence in a job is completely ignored – financial market analysis. Oh, you could readily say that the GFC exceptionally proved this, but ironically what seems to consistently prove it outside of crises is the attitude so many financial market ‘analysts’ have towards Apple’s stock price.

“Sell! Sell! Sell!”, they cry, “Everything is going to turn to dust!”

Except, time and time again, it doesn’t. Over at Daring Fireball, John Gruber maintains a “claim chowder” set of articles pointing out grossly inaccurate predictions made by (mostly) analysts about how Apple is about to crash and burn in a spectacular way. iPad killers, iPhone killers, iOS killers, and, just as frequently, stock prices.

So, here’s a few questions I have relating to these analysts:

  1. If you are employing someone who makes these wildly inaccurate claims, what steps are you taking, and have you already taken, to address the significant lack of competence in your employee?
  2. If you are a self employed analyst making these predictions, have you ever been formally trained in any form of economics?
    • If you have been formally trained, and these are your logical conclusions, can you show your working?
    • If you have been formally trained and these were just guesses, don’t you think you should start behaving more professionally?
    • If you haven’t been formally trained, what insight led you to the realisation that you could successfully do this work?
  3. Is the primary method of distribution of your postings via a website where the primary means of income generation is ad/click-through revenue?
    • If so, wouldn’t that suggest a conflict of interest? After all, your primary motivator would not be accuracy, but driving up the number of clicks on ads to increase revenue. That’s economics 101 – sell more stuff.
    • So wouldn’t it be necessary to declare that conflict of interest by citing, on your website, that your primary means of income is ad revenue and your posts are designed to drive that traffic?
  4. Alternatively, are you a Microsoft or Google Fanboy, who is desperately seeking to validate your own product obsessions by trying to shit-can the competitor?

I’m afraid that I’ve long since had to give up on Hanlon’s razor for these analysts and their predictions, and so we must revert to Occam’s razor, and say that they are either:

  • Incompetent or
  • Malicious or
  • Both incompetent and malicious.

I’d suggest it’s time the press stop listening to these sorts of fools – except the much of the press, too, wilfully plays these same games, so they’re just as culpable.

 

I just experienced a nasty bug with Finder which results in data loss. Thankfully in this situation I had a copy of the original file, but it’s a very unpleasant bug.

Scenario:

  • A customer sent me a zip file called var_adm_messages.zip
  • I unzipped the file, which created the directory var_adm_messages, and in that directory it created the file messages
  • I renamed the file in var_adm_messages from ‘messages’ to var_adm_messages
  • I moved the var_adm_messages file up one level – i.e., into the parent directory that also contained the var_adm_messages directory

Here’s where it gets (a) dangerous and (b) interesting.

So, here’s what my folder structure looks like:

Having renamed the ‘messages’ file to ‘var_adm_messages’, I drag it out to the parent folder, and choose to Replace, since I won’t need the var_adm_messages folder any longer:

Finder bug 2

All good. Now, at this point I’d expect to see the ‘var_adm_messages’ folder disappear, and be replaced by the ‘var_adm_messages’ file. Instead:

Finder Bug 3

Result? Both the file that I wanted, and the original directory, removed.

I suspect Finder is deleting the directory first, which consequently trashes the file that I wanted to move, and subsequently silently fails on the file move.

I know what I’m doing in this situation isn’t what someone would do on a daily basis, but it does violate the rule of least astonishment – and it does generate data loss.

All I can say is: Urgh.

 

I’m frequently staggered by the inability of vendors, large and small, to provide decent search capabilities on their websites. This routinely happens across the entire spectrum of vendors, from hardware to OS to application, large and small. Search is not supplied by providing a search field and button somewhere in the header or footer of each generated web page – instead, it’s actually what goes on in the background that’s really important.

You know, the searching bit.

The indexing bit.

The text comparison bit.

This is something that I’m not convinced LaCie have understood:

LaCie Website

So I searched for “Thunderbolt” from the main page. Given the huge rotating graphic on the front page twice mentions Thunderbolt (one such mention pictured), there’s going to be some results, surely?

…cue crickets chirping…

LaCie Search Results

Yes, I know I could have actually clicked the Thunderbolt product on the main page; but that’s not necessarily intuitive if you’re a consumer who wants to know about all the Thunderbolt options a company has.

Left hand, meet right hand.

Shake, please.

 

Introduction

When I first joined BHP IT Newcastle in 1996, I recall one of the senior managers there mentioning a recent TV interview he’d done for the local station. As I recall it, the interview was about some new investments being made by BHP IT in Newcastle, and the journalist at the time wanted to do the interview in the computer room, standing in front of a bank of computers.

The “bank of computers” they picked was actually the primary network rack. Why? Because they had the most blinking lights.

The early years – The unfathomable future

I was introducing “Alien” (1979) last night to Darren and a couple of friends, and at one point when we paused the movie, we paused, not to discuss the relative merits of the thriller genre, or chestbursters, but the computers that were envisaged when the movie was produced. I’m not talking about the displays, mind you; while they’re incredibly primitive, they’re a symptom of the time and they can be accepted as having a certain kitsch nostalgia:

Computer Display

Enduring 8-bit graphics and primitive vector graphics are a necessity when you watch a movie of this age, and you just learn to deal with them.

What’s most noticeable though is how computers were presented. Let’s look at a couple of stills from “Alien”, as an example:

Mother interface room

Self Destruct

Medical interface

These images represent a lot about how computers – even futuristic computers – were imagined. In particular, common themes were:

  • Lots of blinking lights. (The “mother” room in the shot with Tom Skerritt is perhaps one of the best examples of this.)
  • Lots of buttons. Rows and rows and rows of buttons.
  • The vast majority of the buttons have no label on them whatsoever.

“Alien” was released in 1979, and it was indicative of the attitude towards computers from that era. For comparison, consider “Star Trek: The Motion Picture”, released in December 1979:

Star Trek The Motion Picture

  • Lots of flashing lights – Check
  • Lots of buttons – Check
  • Buttons without labels – Check

Even if we go back to 1968, when “The Ultimate Computer”, an episode of “Star Trek” was first aired, we can see that overall there were a lot of similarities between how computers were represented:

The Ultimate Computer

Buttons. Lots of buttons.

Jumping forward to 1984 when Doctor Who, “Resurrection of the Daleks” was broadcast, we see a console in the TARDIS that looks like the following:

Doctor Who Resurrection of Daleks

Again, don’t get focused on the graphics on-screen, but check out the interface – a keyboard (and an ABCDEF… rather than QWERTY style layout, to boot).

Jumping to “2001″, released in 1968, the presentation of computers even then was focused on buttons and flashing lights (with the exception that HAL of course was AI and had a full speech interface):

2001

Bearing in mind at this stage – anywhere between 1968 and 1984 – computers were devices that were barely understood by lay people; in 1968 in particular, one of the founding computers of the “new digital age”, the IBM S/360, had only been out for four years. People were, quite frankly, only just barely starting to get their minds around what even these primitive (by our current standards) systems could do.

By 1984, while there were 8-bit desktop computers (Commodore, Apple II series, etc.), the burgeoning industry was really only just starting to strap the training wheels on; Apple’s pivotal 1984 ad (January 22, 1984) to introduce the Macintosh didn’t actually feature the computer itself, and interfaces in terms of what the average person might be aware of were well and truly mired in the keyboards and the flashing lights. Computers were still often seen as the domain of men, and computer users were still closer to mechanics than consumers.

The changing face

Eventually though, something significant started to happen with the representation of computers on-screen. This change profoundly demonstrated the evolving attitude of people towards these previously enigmatic devices.

1987 represented a good turning point in the way computer interfaces were shown on screen, with the start of “Star Trek: The Next Generation”. This introduced a touch-screen interface used throughout the series, LCARS (Library Computer Access/Retrieval System) which had no hardware based buttons at all:

LCARS

Since these interface boards were completely workshop developed, the most they featured on screen in terms of human interaction were blinking lights and changing light levels in response to touch; it would be relatively easy to imagine though that the specific purpose of such a touch-screen interface would have been to allow the interface to be redesigned/represented on the fly based on the operational function being performed at the time.

Jump forward to 2002, with the release of “Minority Report” (a populist B grade movie), and you had the presentation of an alternate to a touch interface – a gestural augmented reality interface:

Minority Report

This style of interface had the user wear gloves that allowed motion tracking and interaction with the interface to the point that gestures could be used to slide content around, bring it in and out of focus, etc. While futuristic, and predictive of interfaces being developed along the Kinect product line, it did always seem an awful lot of hard work, as exemplified by the exasperated and overly theatrical gestures used in the German science fiction spoof, “Dreamship Surprise” (2004):

Dreamship Surprise

(Difficult to portray in a single image; the Queen becomes particularly frustrated with the continual flicking of the zoom-out operation.)

Moving to more recent movies, “Quantum of Solace” (2008) kicked things up a gear by presenting a fully touch-screen multi-user interactive desk:

Quantum of Solace

Here, users could swivel objects around, zoom and expand them, slide them across the desk to other users, etc.

“Avatar” (2009) went further on the interface front, having users move apps and processes from a main monitor/computer onto a portable tablet (something for which no screen shot does justice); ironically since starting to use the Mac app “Teleport” some years ago, I’ve frequently found myself trying to drag windows/applications between computers; quite simply, what Avatar shows isn’t really all that futuristic, but rather, inevitable.

So what happened?

What happened between the movies and TVs of the older era (mid-80s and older) and those of the newer era?

The shift was profound yet entirely subtle, something that a lot of people wouldn’t have really noticed at all – we shifted from portraying computer hardware to portraying computer software.

Think of it – Alien, 2001, Star Trek, Doctor Who, etc. – they were all focused on computers are big chunks of hardware that were physically manipulated; switches were pulled or flipped, buttons were toggled or hit, and there was a lot of non-intuitive feedback in the form of pulsating and blinking lights. A computer was an often substantially large piece of hardware that would be approached by the user on-screen as if they were approaching an altar, or entering a place of worship. The human was typically portrayed as intruding on the computer rather than using the computer.

None of which, of course, reflected where computers were actually heading.

At some point though, fiction and the future aligned, and the way in which computers were presented changed to being all about the interface – the software. This was of course just holding up a mirror to society in general: since computers have been around, their usage model has been undergoing a significantly powerful evolution from being a specific tool to being a general purpose piece of equipment; the logical continuance from a “piece of equipment” is an appliance, and that’s the era we’re starting to straddle into now, thanks in no small part to interfaces such as iOS.

The fact that we’re so comfortable with such depictions of computers in fiction now speaks volumes of how far our perception of computers have come – how mainstream they’ve become. (And, for that matter, how powerful they’ve become. Your average smart phone has more significantly processing power and RAM than your average computer from ten years ago.)

What I find particularly amusing about this shift in the portrayal of computers on screen is how there’s still some rigid holdouts in IT who haven’t yet got the picture. Because computers and computing devices are shifting towards appliances, the average consumers aren’t interested in the amount of RAM they’ve got, or the speed of the processor, so long as it works, just the same way that consumers don’t generally inquire as to the number of heating elements per bread slot in a toaster, etc. “Does it toast? Yes: good. Does it look aesthetically pleasing for my kitchen? Yes: good. Is it a suitable price for the function? Yes: good.” That’s the overall decision making process that goes into a toaster.

Movies and TV shows often tell us fantastical stories that have little to no grounding in reality; yet at some point they collectively started to demonstrate the shift that was being experienced in computing – the movement away from the specific hardware to the general and nigh on infinitely adaptable software. They started working on the basis that the hardware was almost completely irrelevant to the actions you performed on it, which was completely setup and controlled in the software.

And they did it without most of us even noticing it.

 

If I had to name one bugbear about iOS vs Mac OS X, it would be this: thanks to the two of them using different names for the same app, it doesn’t matter whether I’m on iOS or I’m on OS X, I constantly find myself briefly befuddled when I go to look up an address, phone number or details about a person.

Why?

Well on Mac OS X, the app you use is:

That’s right – Address Book. You can see where I’m heading here, right?

On iOS, for some reason, instead of “Address Book”, we ended up with “Contacts:

ContactsAm I the only person that finds this annoyingly inconsistent? Am I the only person who has that momentary brain-fart every time I go to use either app on either platform?

I’m guessing no.

Likely now with 5 major iterations of iOS in play, we’re not likely to see this change. Still, it’s a pity someone wasn’t tasked with making common activities between the two platforms syntactically consistent.

 

In case it’s not been immediately obvious to anyone, I’ve done some simple diagrams to explain where RIM went wrong in this catastrophic outage they’ve been suffering.

You see, most companies implement what we call redundant infrastructure. In systems that require high availability, this is often accomplished with something as simple as clustered (either LAN or WAN) hardware and communications. Sometimes it’s designed that each component runs at the same time, sharing the load, but if one fails, the other one takes over and runs all the load. In simple terms, it looks like this:

Active/Active ClustersThat all makes sense, right?

Unfortunately, RIM seemed more focused on having failover capabilities for upper level management, so it instead clustered its’ CEOs:

RIM Clustered CEOsThe supposed theory behind this is that the two CEOs, working in an active/active arrangement, could handle load better and get the job done better than a single CEO – and provide resiliency!

Unfortunately though, the hardware resiliency wasn’t as up to scratch, and when it started to fail, RIM started having a catastrophic outage.

Now, you may have expected at that point for the active/active CEO cluster to step in and help. Unfortunately though, they’ve barely been heard from. So, in cluster terms, we have to assume a sort of reversed split-brain situation has occurred, where both components of the cluster think the other component is still running:

RIM-splitbrainAnd there you have it – why RIM is having their current outage.

It’s also a lesson for all you other companies out there: you need fault tolerant infrastructure as well as CEOs.

 

 

“They were Gods once, but their worshippers either died out or were converted to the worship of other Gods. They wail and flutter around the edges of reality without substance or even thought. All they have is need.”

(“The Hidden City”, David Eddings.)

I’m not much of a David Eddings fan these days. These days I pretty much maintain that the only truly good book of his that I’ve ever read was “The Losers”. That being said, he does have a knack for turning a good phrase from time to time, and the “Powerless Ones” mentioned in “The Hidden City” constantly springs to mind when I think of people such as Richard Stallman.

Now, if you’re not a big IT geek, you may not have heard that much of Richard Stallman. Richard was instrumental in the development of the Free Software Foundation, and the GNU Project. (GNU, in this sense, is one of those self-recursive acronyms so loved in some IT circles – in this case, it stands for GNU’s Not Unix.)

Richard Stallman is a relic of a bygone age. He believes and espouses the notion that all software should be free (“free as in speech”, not “free as in beer”, as the FSF so bluntly puts it). To quote the FSF directly:

Free software is a matter of the users’ freedom to run, copy, distribute, study, change and improve the software. More precisely, it means that the program’s users have the four essential freedoms:

  • The freedom to run the program, for any purpose (freedom 0).
  • The freedom to study how the program works, and change it so it does your computing as you wish (freedom 1). Access to the source code is a precondition for this.
  • The freedom to redistribute copies so you can help your neighbor (freedom 2).
  • The freedom to distribute copies of your modified versions to others (freedom 3). By doing this you can give the whole community a chance to benefit from your changes. Access to the source code is a precondition for this.

A program is free software if users have all of these freedoms. Thus, you should be free to redistribute copies, either with or without modifications, either gratis or charging a fee for distribution, to anyone anywhere. Being free to do these things means (among other things) that you do not have to ask or pay for permission to do so.

Some time ago, Richard Stallman did some good things. He developed tools which were added into Linux distributions (“It’s GNU/Linux!”, you’ll hear some people cry fervently), and has undoubtedly contributed to the sum total of computer science endeavours. Any business using free or open source software* is using software that likely owes part of its existence to the advocacy efforts of Stallman.

But, like The Powerless Ones, we don’t have to assume that having once said and done things of import, everything Stallman says and does today is still of import.

It came as no surprise, for instance, when on the death of Steve Jobs, Stallman said:

Steve Jobs, the pioneer of the computer as a jail made cool, designed to sever fools from their freedom, has died.

As Chicago Mayor Harold Washington said of the corrupt former Mayor Daley, “I’m not glad he’s dead, but I’m glad he’s gone.” Nobody deserves to have to die – not Jobs, not Mr. Bill, not even people guilty of bigger evils than theirs. But we all deserve the end of Jobs’ malign influence on people’s computing.

Unfortunately, that influence continues despite his absence. We can only hope his successors, as they attempt to carry on his legacy, will be less effective.

That “malign influence”? That’s the bit where Apple builds products that aren’t designed from the ground up to allow the end-user to hack, tinker and play. In fact, many of Apple’s products are explicitly designed to discourage this. They don’t, for instance, allow you to officially root (hack) an iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad.

But, as I pointed out in “Apple Won. Get with the programme“, we’ve moved beyond that point in computing where everything should be done to ensure that geeks get 100% satisfaction:

I think Apple almost inherently offends a lot of overclockers because it creates a much more closed in system. That closed in system means they can’t tweak components, performance, etc., to their hearts’ desire: from the most basic (theming the OS) through to the most complex (hacking it to run on any hardware), Apple sacrifice non-consumer extensibility at the expense of making it more accessible to an increasing number of consumers. Nothing demonstrated this more than iOS – be it on the iPad or iPhone, or even the iPod Touch. Both for the consumers, and for the overclockers.

Stallman views the world still from the early computer-era perspective. He wants to get in and tinker. He wants to experiment. He wants to change. He wants to share what he’s changed with others. All of which are admirable things, but that’s not the evolutionary path that technology takes. Technology becomes simpler, it becomes easier, it becomes more reliable.

The sad thing is, in his demand to change, he’s remaining remarkably stagnant, and wants to force that stagnation on all of us.

Stallman tends to come out swinging against a lot of different technologies these days, often in a highly amusing way. For instance, he’s dead set against Facebook, and has on his main page:

Facebook’s face recognition demonstrates a threat to everyone’s privacy. I therefore ask people not to put photos of me on Facebook; you can do likewise.

Yet, a Google search for “Richard Stallman” images yields over 280,000 results. OK, not all of those results are going to be photos of him, but the initially returned results are. His face is already “out there”. His increasingly histrionic appearing proclamations of security and privacy fail to take into account the changing political and personal landscape out there – there are new privacy boundaries for users in the digital age, and all the screaming into the void that he wants to do will achieve nought, save creating the impression that he goes to bed wearing a copper-mesh hat.

Stallman really could use reading and digesting the contents of Danah Boyd’s “Making Sense of Privacy and Publicity“. (I suggest you do, too.)

Would it alter his perception one iota?

No.

A philosophy lecturer once said (and may have been paraphrasing someone else) “old ideas don’t die out. It’s just the people who hold them do.”

The notion of a world full of only free software – where everyone is a programmer and can tinker and play with their software as much as they want, where they can hack on any device they own and achieve anything they want (e.g., making their TV display a binary clock in the upper-left corner, or having their iOS device announce the time on the hour – whatever thing you can think of, really) is past. It was a pioneering notion, but it doesn’t fit with the consumer-centric development of technologies, and it doesn’t matter how much Stallman continues to shout into the ether, it won’t come back, either.

Is this a bad thing? The millions of iOS device owners wouldn’t agree. Nor, for that matter, would the millions of Android users who have never nor will ever ‘root’ their phone. Nor would the vast majority of computer users, who do not use open source operating systems.

That’s not to say that free and open source software no longer have a part to play. A realist can look at the nature of IT now and be content that it has a strong and healthy mix of both proprietary software and open source/free software. Which model is best? Both! Neither! Or rather, “both, together!” Without going too spiritual, they’re yin and yang to each other – both complimenting each other and symbiotically forming a complete ecosystem that helps power society.

Technology use shifts over time, and Stallman has tried to stay the tide. And so he “wail[s] and flutters around the edges of reality without substance or even thought”.

Please, pay the powerless one no heed – his time has past.

* Open source and free software groups, while they share some similar ideals, don’t actually fully mesh. That’s beyond the scope of what I’m writing about today, though.

 

Oh no! Apple only released the iPhone 4S, not the iPhone 5!

It’s the start of the end of the world – it must be, man! It’s like 2012 the movie is real! There must be lots of extra neutrinos hitting the planet now, except instead of starting with earthquakes and crust displacement, they’re screwing with Apple’s iPhone production!

WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE IN A TSUNAMI OF ANALYST PREDICTIONS ABOUT APPLE BEING DEAD.

We were warned

Except, when we stop and think about it, the release process so far for iPhones has been:

  • iPhone
  • iPhone 3G
  • iPhone 3GS
  • iPhone 4
  • iPhone 4 (CDMA)

What part of that release cycle made it clear that it should have been an iPhone 5 this time?

So all the worthless, two-bit self-appointed analysts out there, who have been predicting the end of Apple with the release of every so called ‘competing’ product out there – the Zune, the Playbook, the Galaxy Tab, the TouchPad, the blah-blah-blah, yeah-yeah-yeah, will now be predicting the end of Apple over a lack of innovation, or – wait for it, you know it’s coming – “Steve Jobs has left, therefore APPLE HAS DIED”.

Please. Get a grip. Or probably better yet, let go of it and get a life.

The iPhone 5 will come out when Apple is good and ready, not a moment before. Apple will continue to march to its own release cycle, despite the demands of analysts, and they’ll release products when they know they’re happy with the state of the product.

Until then, like the 3GS was between the 3G and the 4, the 4S will undoubtedly be a good interim device between the 4 and the 5. Those who are nearing the end of a contract on a 3GS will undoubtedly look at upgrading to the 4S, and those of us who are still on a iPhone 4 contract will likely hold off until the 5.

Will Apple die because of this? Will the movie 2012 happen?

What do you think?

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