Archive for the 'Technology and Society' Category

IA, Policy, and the New York City Subway

Olga just sent me a link to her new project UX Social, in which she’s interviewing some guy on how IA could/should be applied to government policies and the like. Oh wait, that’s me!

(watch the 2nd part at Olga’s site)

In this interview, Olga gave me an opportunity to vent a little bit about the bane of my existence, and probably that of a few million other fellow New Yorkers, the MTA. Officially, the acronym stands for the Metro Transit Authority, though I think a more accurate meaning of is Mysterious Train Activity.

Anyhoo, one of the many many many stupid things that our beloved MTA did was to install ‘Emergency Exits’ at all of the several hundred subway stations. Problem is, these exits used to be normal exits, except they were bigger and wider than subway turnstyle exits, so that people with bikes and baby carriages could use them. The thing was, though, you had to press a tiny button next to the door and then wait for a subway attendant to buzz you through. And if there was no nearby attendant booth, well then there was no large exit door, so you’d have to trek to the opposite end of the station to be able to exit with your bike or whatever.

To address this problem, the MTA came up with a brilliant, brilliant!, solution. Y’know those doors with the big horizontal bar on the insider of the door that you push to exit? Well, they replaced all the old doors and installed additional doors at unattended areas with that *huuuge* button just begging to be pushed, which allows people to exit even if there is no attendant around. Oh, one small detail, there is a very noisy alarm that goes off when you push that huge irresistible button. But what do you care, you’re long gone up the stair and out of the subway, while the people on the platform have to contend with a sharp whining sound that seems like it’s never going to stop. Well, there’s more to the story, but check out Olga’s page for the rest of it.

Thanks Olga!

Oh, and she’s got lots of other great interviews with people a lot smarter than me at UX Social.

All Too Distant Eyes on Darfur

I was listening to the BBC this morning and heard a piece about the Eyes on Darfur site, which went live just hours ago, at 8:30am EST. The reporter described the site as an effort to draw attention to the atrocities occurring in the region by posting satellite imagery of villages that are at imminent risk of being attacked. They interviewed a representative from Amnesty International, which is behind the creation of the site, who described the satellite imagery as being able to depict in great detail what is happening on the ground, and provide “unimpeachable evidence” of war crimes and “enabling action by private citizens, policy makers and international courts.”

Upon visiting the site, my first reaction was to the soft colors and rounded edges and generally very slick design - it was somehow jarring and in stark contrast to the site content. But no matter, I wanted to explore the satellite imagery and clicked on the ‘Satellite Evidence‘ link - again, there was just something about the smooth Flash animations and slick graphics that I guess I’ve been so indoctrinated to associate with games and, in the Web 2.0 world, a good user experience, that I really had to force myself to put all that aside and realize the horrible tragedy that the makers of this site have worked so hard depict. But sadly, heartwrenchingly, I found the satellite imagery to be terribly disappointing - if I had seen these images without any supporting descriptions, I’m not sure if I’d had much of an idea of what I was looking at. Is there some feature, some button, that I am not clicking on? I really hope so - the idea of bringing this terrible tragedy to the world’s attention by allowing them to see it up close is a fantastic one - few things are more likely to drive people to take action than seeing something up close - I can only hope that the detailed images described in the BBC segment are there, and that I just didn’t find them.

SitePal - Boo brought back from the dead?

I subscribe to a great newsletter from SitePoint about all things web design, and they usually have lots and lots of great digital tidbits to share, but I think this time they might be slightly off the mark with the following heading for the article: “Spice up your Design Projects and Get Noticed.” It’s the title for an article about a service called SitePal. I think it took me all of a nanosecond or two after arriving at the site to have Boo.com flashbacks. The first thing you’re greeted by when the page loads is a scary-looking animated character.
One of the many characters you'll be greeted by when arriving at SitePal.com
In a comically bad synthetic voice, she proclaims “Put a character like me to work in minutes. I’ll spice up your site.” Actually, if anything I think she might scare people away from your site. I know that if I saw one of those things on a commercial site, I’d be gone pretty fast.

Piratpartiet (”Pirate Party”) Launches High-Capacity Darknet

While Bush & Co. are busy reducing the privacy of U.S. citizens, my fellow Swedes are fighting back on their home front. The Swedish Piratpartiet is releasing a new product called relakks, which essentially is a commercial darknet, (supposedly) allowing users to exist and interact completely anonymously while online. In a world where spyware and other online snooping is becoming increasingly pervasive and sophisticated, a commercial darknet seems like an inevitable response. And it’s great to see the traditionally stoic Swedes getting pissed off at their own government’s steps at prying on their citizen’s activities. Whether or not it’s a good idea for users to be able to function completely anonymously online is a sticky question (yes, I have a right to and want to retain my privacy, but on the other hand, won’t darknets allow terrorists to communicate freely online, and on the third hand, I actually don’t mind some information about me being made known, since that allows for sometimes useful personalization.) What’s more interesting here is that a political party is releasing a (sociologically) cutting edge product in support of their agenda.

read more | digg story

Mainstreaming the mainframe

Back in the 70s, when personal computing entered the mainstream, they came about as a means of providing individuals a tiny piece of the computing power available to governments, corporations, and universities in the form of mainframes. But in contrast to the mainframe/terminal paradigm, in which the network is an inherent aspect of the model, personal computers were mostly islands. Rather than being delivered via a network, virtually all data input came via a floppy disk or the like. Networking for personal computers would not become a mainstream reality until thousands of miles of fiber optic cable later. While mainframes efficiently stored and managed all data and provided all processing power centrally on the mainframe mother ship, with dummy terminals limited to input/output, the personal computer ended up being like little pioneers, required to be completely self-sufficient in terms of processing power, data storage, and software. Even after the World Wide Web entered the mainstream in the mid 90s, it would be quite some time until broadband networks would become widely accessible and allow for offloading some of that burden to remote servers, so the little pioneers settled and became beefy workstations with massive storage capabilities and mainstream processor speeds eventually surpassing that of supercomputers of old. This evolutionary path has continued in a steady progression, to the point where personal computers are starting to look like their own little mainframes, at least in terms of the extent to which they need to be maintained—owning a personal computer today means being a mini-administrator, dealing with software updates, security issues, networking, etc. But, of course, personal computers are not mainframes. More importantly, they have long since ceased being islands. As networking becomes an increasingly central aspect of personal computing, the personal computing paradigm as we’ve now known it for the last quarter century is making less and less sense. It’s making less and less sense for files and applications to reside on a local machine, considering that more and more people work on multiple computers, and more and more people have access to broadband connectivity, which negates so many of the original reasons why personal computers came about in the first place. In my view, what instead would make sense would be for a mainstreaming of the mainframe paradigm. In some ways, that process already is underway, in the guise of the Web 2.0. web-as-platform model. Building on that, I would like to not only store these blog entries online, but all my files (some of which of course I would choose to keep private.) In addition, instead of sitting here typing this in Word, a desktop application (yup, even though it will eventually end up online, doing a lot of typing in a text area isn’t exactly an optimal user experience, so I always type everything first in Word), I would want to be able to have a web-based version of Office, in which it was provided as a service, and I never again had to worry about installing it or keeping it updated or having to attach Word docs to emails whenever I wanted to send it to someone. After having typed this, rather than clicking on a save button (which would be gone, since it would always be automatically saved), I would just publish it, without the need for any FTPing or anything like that, since it would already be online. Then, instead of sending someone an attachment, I’d just send them a link. And let’s say I wanted to collaborate with someone on writing a document – well, I would just need to give them access to it, and suddenly we’ve got a collaborative workspace, or I could open it up even more and turn the document into a Wiki. I could go on, and talk about all the advantages of moving personal files to an online space and turning desktop applications into either free online apps or subscription-based online apps (e.g. no more dealing with backups of your files, since that would be part of the subscription service), but the funny thing is that there really is nothing about these ideas that is infeasible. It’s more a question of whether or not companies that have a strong interest in retaining the status quo of personal computing, such as, oh I don’t know, Microsoft? (and Apple too), would have the boldness and vision to make their products available as an online service. The good news is that there are companies, such as, oh I don’t know, Google? (and Yahoo! too), that in many ways already are either realizing or creating the momentum for just such a shift.

Finding Morville’s Ambient Findability

I just finished reading Peter Morville’s new book Ambient Findability. The book is exquisitely written, with innumerable tidbits about information retrieval curiosities, such as the obscure, but as Peter nicely points out, very significant Mooers Law (not to be confused with Moore’s Law, the one about microprocessors doubling in speed every few years), which describes the relationship between the use of an info retrieval system in relationship to the pain a user must endure to use it. Three chapters into the book, Morville makes a brilliant connection between Moore’s and Mooer’s laws:

Fast, cheap processors powered a personal computer revolution and enabled the information explosion we call the Internet. Five exabytes of information. Half a million new libraries the size of the Library of Congress. That’s how much information we create in a year—92% of it stored in magnetic media. It’s time we shifted our focus from creating a wealth of information to addressing the ensuing poverty of attention.

Hear! Hear! The siren song of the war against information overload! Or is it? Upon reading this, I was expecting to read about how we are pumping unfettered volumes of content (such as this gratuitous blog entry) down the throat of the poor Internet, drowning it with endless streams of folksonomized info ooze. And, yes, Peter does deliver on that front, but not in the way I expected. Rather than pointing a finger at the easy target of Bad Technology, he chooses to explore that nebulous space between human quirkiness and technological stodginess, and the unending friction between the two. Yes, the amount of information being amassed is mind-bending, and yes trying to retain any notion of findability within that seemingly horizon-less sea of increasingly ambient (as in anywhere anytime access) information seems insurmountable (except for Google, of course, but back to planet Earth…). Instead of getting caught in that ever-tempting desire of the infonaut to provide Solutions to Problems, to say “read this book and you too can be an Organizer of Content,” Morville takes us on a journey through his ambivalent musings (well-researched musing at that) of this intertwinglingly complexificated place which is all at once our own technological creation and continuing source of mystery, beauty, frustration and fear, a world of McGoogle information dysliteracy and what Morville calls “Graffiti Theory” (Google Hawkins and neocortex for more on that)—information that flows through us changes our minds, physically, Peter claims. In some ways, his book is no more than a Faberge Egg of exquisite gems about the latest and greatest in technological tres cool (reminding me somewhat unfortunately of Nicholas Negroponte’s crowd-pleasing doozy, “Being Digital”), but toward the end, it seems that was just beef for the stew, and the work seems to take on a more somber tone, intertwining politics, economics (er, Levitt Freakonomics, actually) to mold what in my view is less a book that belongs in the technology section (where you will inevitably find it, after all it’s an O’Reilly with obscure animal on the cover and all), but might be better placed in the sociology section, or maybe anthropology section, or possibly the ethnography section, no, maybe the…

Envisioning the disconnected movement

I remember a few years ago reading about some official from the FCC stating that “in the future, people will no longer have what we think of as home phones, but will all have their personal phones/numbers.” I also remember thinking that this sounded utterly ridiculous and unthinkable. And yet, of course, then came mobile phones, and today I find myself on a monthly basis rationalizing having both a land line and a cell phone. The idea of not having a land line would have seemed unthinkable to me only a few years ago. But I can imagine, only a few short years from now, the idea of a land line seeming a bit quaint. A few years before that (as in ca 1994), the idea of The Web was still pretty much alien to me. I remember going into Border’s books on Liberty and State in Ann Arbor, and picking up books on the Internet and the World Wide Web, just to figure out what the difference was between the two. Looking back, it seems so pedantic. This was the age of Mosaic and Gopher and the web as the techno-utopian Savior. And then came Amazon and eBay and Yahoo! (considering that they still are three of the biggest sites on web, you have to wonder how much really has changed since then), and the web lost some its innocence (ok, the innocence thing was pretty much out the door as soon as UseNet got overrun with porn – and I am not sure if UseNet ever was not overrun with porn.) These were the days when you’d take surveys asking how much time you spend online (“Do you spend more than an hour per week online?”) Today (or not too far from today), that is almost like asking “How much time in a day do you spend using electricity?” Being online was an active decision – you logged onto the Internet, tried not to use up all your precious minutes, and then got off the Internet. Today, I hit the space bar on my laptop and if there is a wireless network within range, I’m connected. And as wireless networks become cheaper and more pervasive (as in the death of ‘hotspots’), I think the whole idea of being online will vanish. Instead, turning on your computer (or your PDA or whatever) is synonymous with being online. Everything will be turned on its head and being off-line will be the extraordinary state, just like a power outage is an extraordinary event. Aside from the sociological responses to this (which we see already sprouting up here and there today, such as the ‘No Cell Phones’ sign at Brooklyn Social, (one of my favorite local hangouts) equivalent to a No Smoking section, except what you’re forbidding isn’t so much unhealthy biologically as it might be psychologically. As technology and connectivity become increasingly pervasive, and increasingly intimate (as in the phone going from being something you did at the post office—yes, making a call was once like going grocery shopping—to something you had in the hallway of your home, to something in your kitchen, to something on your bedside table that could wake you at any hour, to this little thing we now carry around that vibrates in our pants—and foreseeably to something implanted in your body—yup, that might sound scary, but having a communication device implant may not be something out of a paranoid Philip K. Dick story but a reality before too long), there is the inevitability of a reaction, akin to the Slow Foods movement, which attracts urban types overwhelmed by the fast pace of city life, such as maybe the Disconnected Movement, where you would go offline, maybe pay money to be able to disconnect The Leash that is what wireless connectivity in many ways becomes. Sort of ironic. I wonder if there will be ‘No Internet’ cafes, in which connectivity is blocked out, or ‘Disconnected Cruises’ where there will be no email or cell phones. It might seem far-fetched, though I can imagine myself going on such a cruise a few years from now.