Sunday, August 2, 2015

Beautifully Frivolous Technology

I bought a PS Vita so I could play Tearaway. Skipping, for the moment,  the question of whether it was worth it to buy a system just to play one game (hint: once you start playing Tearaway, it doesn't matter), the PS Vita itself is a strange device.

Make no mistake about it, the Vita is a beautiful piece of technology. The screen is gorgeous. The device has a heft and sheen to it that makes it look and feel expensive. Is that superficial? Yes, it is. But that doesn't take away its value to the overall impression the device gives off. And as a gaming device, the two analog sticks work perfectly and provide a unique portable gaming experience.

However, for all of its top-notch features, the PS Vita also comes with some odd, unnecessary, and in several cases cheap and badly designed components.Why?

To start with, the game cartridge slot has a cover — a plastic cover — that is attached by four thin pliable plastic tabs. The first time you open the slot it is clear that these tabs are likely to be the first thing to break. Why is there a cover on the game slot at all? (It just gets in the way of changing games.) But if you need one, why such a shoddy design?

You can almost forgive Sony for thinking that the primary direction for games is digital downloads. But that clearly didn't work with the download-only PSP Go. And even if that is their direction, the audience has not fully transitioned from physical to digital media. So cheap design only makes the device seem unsuited for those interested in playing more  than two or three games. (What can fit on Sony's extraordinarily expensive memory cards.)

And then there is the software user interface. What is going on here? There is plenty of flashy interface to deal with. But why? I bought a device to play games on, but none of the games fit on the first screenful of icons there are so many unnecessary "social" apps pre-installed.

Where are the games?

And the unique "peel" mechanic where you have to pull each screen from the top-left down and to the right to go back, what's with that? It is a pretty animation. But why create a mechanic different from every other mobile device except to say "we're different" and frustrate all of your users?

There are so many decisions (3d quivering buttons, the "peal" mechanic, so many "me too" annoying and irrelevant social apps) that just scream "we don't care what you want, we want to impress you". And when I am paying $200 plus, I am not interested in being impressed. I want to be wowed by the function I want to use — the games I want to play. And on the positive side, the PS Vita supports just that with an outstanding screen, well-designed controls and even a little extra (such as the back touch pad). If only all the rest of the device stopped getting in my way....

Monday, July 13, 2015

Best. Documentation. Ever.

I recently picked up an OP-1 synthesizer from Teenage Engineering. The OP-1 is a marvel of design and engineering. But I already knew that, which is why I was so interested in it. What I didn't expect is that it has some of the best documentation I have ever seen.

Of course, saying it is the best documentation ever is a bit of an exaggeration. Kind of like saying Rembrandt is the best painter ever. Better than Renoir? Better than Tintoretto? When you get into the realm of art and genius, comparison becomes irrelevant. What is important is that they far outshine any of their contemporaries.

The same is true for the documentation of the OP-1. To start with it isn't "documentation" per se. There is no manual. There is no paper Getting Started guide. When you open the package (which serves as its own case, which is also pretty neat) there is a clear plastic overlay on top of the synthesizer, describing each of the controls. That's it.

Well, not quite it. Because in the available space over the keyboard the overlay also includes a 8-step "QuickStart" for getting started using the OP-1. Just enough to show off some of its key features and get you playing with it (literally and figuratively).

Does it cover all features? No. Does it go into detail about what each knob does? No. But it makes you comfortable trying them to find out for yourself. Besides, there actually is a more detailed printable user's guide available online. But you won't find that until you've at least looked over instructions on the overlay and tried it out a little. (There is a link to the online document in the lower-left of the overlay.)

Is it perfect? No, not quite. The plastic overlay can get a little wrinkled and not lay flat. Also, since much of the OP-1 is light gray, the white printing on the overlay can be a little hard to read when it is actually covering the device. But these are minor quibbles. For 95% of its purpose, the "documentation" for the OP-1 is as well designed and inspiring as the device itself. Nothing short of exceptional.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

I Did Something Stupid (Wearable UX)

I did something stupid today. I disagreed with one of the leading experts in interface design, mobile, and specifically the soon-to-be-released Apple Watch.

The argument is over a chart Luke Wroblewski (@lukew) posted about the distraction factor of a smart phone vs. a smart watch, indicating use of a smart watch lets you be "more connected to the people around you..."

There are two problems here:
  • First, the chart is fiction. It measures "real life" vs. "lost in phone" — concepts of psychological state which are hard to define, never mind measure.  Perhaps there is some real data behind the charts, but if so the labels do it no justice. I suspect the diagram is more a representation of belief or expectation than fact. In which, why is it a chart?
  • Second, it is not the phone that this the point of distraction. It is the information on the phone — phone, watch, iPad, eye piece, etc — and not the device itself that is the distraction. So putting the notifications on the wrist may reduce the time it takes to switch from in-the-present to in-the-data, but it does not alter the distraction factor that data provides, whether it is in my pocket or on my wrist.
One of the most disturbing studies in this area is recent research into the use of "hands free" devices while driving.  I would equate Luke's proposal that data-on-the-wrist is  less distracting from "real life" to the arguments that hands-free phone technology is less distracting to driving. However, the National Safety Council published a report arguing that hands-free does not significantly reduce the risks to distracted driving.

"Hands-free devices often are seen as a solution to the risks of driver distraction because they help eliminate two obvious risks – visual, looking away from the road and manual, removing your hands off of the steering wheel. However, a third type of distraction can occur when using cell phones while driving – cognitive, taking your mind off the road. 
The amount of exposure to each risk is key. Crashes are a function of the severity of each risk and how often the risk occurs. Most people can recognize when they are visually or mechanically distracted and seek to disengage from these activities as quickly as possible. However, people typically do not realize when they are cognitively distracted, such as taking part in a phone conversation; therefore, the risk lasts much, much longer. This likely explains why researchers have not been able to find a safety benefit to hands-free phone conversations.  "
Understanding the distracted brain:
Why driving while using hands-free cell phones is risky behavior

National Safety Council White PaperApril 2012

One argument is that the data on the smart watch is primarily uni-directional — not requiring a response. For example, a "be there in 5 mins"  message  But if that is the case, how are those messages being generated? By smart watch wearers pulling out their phones to push the messages? And the fact that the message doesn't require a response doesn't mean it doesn't require cognitive effort — and distraction from current activities — to process it.

Wearables such as smart watches may eliminate the time and effort required to pull out the smart phone. But I have my doubts (unfounded, uninformed, as they may be) that they actually reduce the distraction that modern streaming personal data causes.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

My Disappointment in Politicians is Infinite

The repudiation of the president is now complete.

The Republicans repudiate him because of their not-so-latent racism (and the need to prove everything he does is wrong).

The Democrats repudiate him out of sheer cowardice. (Do they assume no one remembers the bailout from a Republican-led banking disaster or that health costs are one of the key factors crippling low- to middle-class families?)

All this, and four billion dollars, while doing nothing to address the day-to-day problems of the American citizen.

I voted. I will continue to vote. But it looks more and more like it will take Constitutional amendments — driven by grassroots petitions in every state — to achieve any significant change in the privileged, self-satisfied country club that our government has become.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Customer Survey Apocalypse

 I recently bought a fairly expensive item. I shopped around, decided what I wanted, and then went in to finalize the deal.

As I was completing the purchase and was shaking hands with the sales person, they leaned in and in a confidential tone told me a story. I would receive a survey through email in a week or so asking about my experience buying the item. The survey would cover a number of topics, including how clean was the showroom, was I told about all the options, was the sales person helpful, etc.

The reason for telling me this, he explained, is that the sales personnel are rated on the responses they receive. What's more, if they receive any responses less than "exceptional", they are considered to have failed. So, if I was happy with the purchase, could I please make sure I marked everything as "exceptional" on the survey?

There are so many things wrong with this experience it is hard to know where to begin. But what spurred me on to write about it is because this is the second time this has happened to me in the past year — dealing with completely different companies and different services!

So where to begin?
  • First, I actually did have a good experience with the purchase and would, without prompting, have given a good review in response to the survey.
  • But having been prompted, I am tempted to not respond to the survey at all rather than deal with the pressure to up my score.
  • I don't blame the sales person. If he is being judged on each survey, why not try to game the system and improve the scores?
  • I do blame the company. They have soiled what was a pleasant experience and made it seem seedy and somehow underhanded.
  • I understand the need to stay in touch with the customer experience. And as problematic as they are, surveys are one mechanism to achieve this. Especially for large national or multi-national corporations
  • But having said that, conflating customer awareness with personnel management is a disaster waiting to happen!
 I know people (and I am not far from being one myself) who would, under some perverted sense of justice, actually lower their scores on the survey in response to the request to score high. There are others, obviously, who would go along to be friendly and up the scores, regardless of what they might have given as ratings without external prompting.

Survey results are problematic enough to start with. 10% return on all surveys sent out is often considered a "good" percentage. Add to this limitation the fact that often those who hold the strongest opinions — either for or against — are the most eager to express their opinion. And now you further skew the results by having employees pushing participants to either extreme.

So rather than get an accurate (or semi-accurate) picture of the customer's experience,  they have invalidated the entire process and skewed the results. At the same time, they are using a completely spurious method for assessing their employees. Don't assess your customer facing employees on what the customer says! It is like telling the cleaning service their pay is dependent on how clean the bathroom sink is. You can be sure the bathroom sink will be clean -- even if the rest of the house isn't touched!

If you are going to rate customer-facing employees on what customers say, base it on the aggregate, not on individual scores. You are still going to sabotage the accuracy of your customer responses, but at least you would reduce the damage. And, possibly, not disillusion the customers you rely on to spread positive word-of-mouth about your business.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

My letter to Pentax/Ricoh: When Customer Service Fails

I recently had a bad customer service experience.  Such things are unavoidable. In this case, the warranty repair of my brand-new camera was delayed by warehouse closures, lack of parts, etc. These are things I understand.

The bad part of the story is that — although the basic problems were unavoidable — the overall experience was eminently solvable with just the slightest bit of customer awareness and contact. Over the three and a half months my camera was gone, No one from Pentax/Ricoh contacted me. Not to tell me they had received the camera. Not to tell me it was delayed. Not to tell me they were replacing it. Not  to tell me the tracking number when they sent it back. All of these things I had to find out by calling them, repeatedly.

But to make a bad story worse, I wrote to the company (see below) suggesting they would do well to keep customers (who may already be annoyed that their new equipment doesn't work) informed of basic status information, via emails, phone calls, or post cards.

That was three weeks ago. Today a representative of Ricoh called me (a first!) to explain to me:
  1. I had written to the wrong person. Their executive VP doesn't handle issues like this. (Well, duh! But since their website doesn't provide any information on who to contact, I had no choice.)
  2. Once again, he explained why the repair of my camera had been delayed. (Something I had been told, many times on the phone when I called to ask where my camera was.)
  3. Their repair department was in another state entirely. (How does that matter?) And that it was very small and the staff did not have time to be corresponding with customers.
It was that last statement, along with the reassurance that my letter would be "kept on file", that really confirmed that Ricoh, as a company is fostering a culture devoid of empathy or care for their customers. 

Well, if they are going to "file" my letter and do nothing about it, I guess I will too. So I am filing my letter here, online, as a cautionary tale for any other customers who might unfortunately ever need support from Ricoh/Pentax. Better yet, someone considering purchasing any of their equipment might also want to consider their customer service history and attitude before making a decision about what brand to buy.

November 10, 2013

James Malcolm, Executive VP
Ricoh Imaging Americas Corp.
633 17th Street, Suite 2600
Denver, CO 80202

Dear Mr. Malcolm,

Earlier this year my wife bought me a Pentax X-5 camera as a present. I was thrilled. Unfortunately, the camera had a problem that caused it to freeze randomly. What happened next makes me wonder why anyone would purchase products from Pentax or Ricoh. What is worse is that the entire affair was easily avoidable had Ricoh taken just a few simple steps to demonstrate an interest in its customers. The damage to my opinion of Pentax/Ricoh may be irreparable. But I would like to offer some suggestions to salvage your reputation with others.

First let me explain what happened. I started by going to your website to see if the issue with my camera was a known issue. I was told I should send it in for repair under warranty, which I did. Over three months ago.

Since that time, Pentax/Ricoh has never contacted me directly. No notice that the camera was received. No message that it was accepted as being under warranty. No information about when it might be returned.

In that time my wife and I have called your support center at least five times. Each time the support personnel were extremely pleasant and accommodating. Even apologetic. Each time we were told a story about how parts were ordered, supplied were delayed, or some other action was pending. As pleasant as your representatives were, they never were able to give me a clear idea of what was wrong with the camera in the first place or when I could expect to get it back.

After two and a half months, they finally told us “management” had approved replacing the camera.  (Why? Who knows.) Since then we’ve called every week to find out where the replacement is, only to be told that they couldn’t say until they got a tracking number from “the warehouse”.

It is over three months since I sent my camera in, As I said, Pentax/Ricoh has never initiated any communication with me. Everything I know about this story comes from my wife and I dogging your support department on the phone. If I had thought there was any chance of this happening, I would never have purchased a Pentax camera to begin with. And knowing what I know now, I would never recommend Pentax or Ricoh products to anyone else either.

But for the sake of your current and future customers, I would like to suggest the following small changes to your procedures that could make a tremendous impact on overall customer satisfaction:

  • When a customer sends in a product for repair, notify them (by email or postcard) that:
    1. It has been received.
    2. Whether it is accepted as a warranty repair or not.
    3. Ideally, tell them approximately how long the repair will take.
  • If there is any delay in the repairs, contact the customer again explaining the delay and giving a new estimate for completion.

What hurts most about this experience is that we deliberately chose a Pentax camera over other competitors based on the Pentax 35mm camera we have used for more than 25 years. I will never think of Pentax in the same kind light again. And that is sad because the entire episode could have been so easily avoided.


Andrew Gent

Thursday, May 9, 2013

The Prerequisites of Poetry

I read lots of modern poetry. I enjoy it. I also write poetry. However many, if not most, of the people around me do not read modern poetry and, in fact, will cringe if I suggest it. Why this fear and revulsion?

The situation raises a question: what are the prerequisites for reading and enjoying modern poetry? Do you need to write it to read it? I doubt it. (I hope not.) But there is clearly some sensibility, some "training" involved before people appreciate what modern poetry has to offer.

Or perhaps it is the other way around. Perhaps people are trained to not appreciate it. 

The fact is that we, as a culture, (I am speaking of western, particularly North American, culture here) have a distinct bias against fine arts. Oh, we fund NEA and such. But making fun of the arts and artists as pretentious, self-important — even fraudulent — poseurs is a popular pastime.

This aversion to the arts is not restricted to poetry. The same applies to the other "fine" arts such as painting, sculpture, and dance. The only arts that seem to be immune are fiction, music, and video (TV and movies) — those arts with a significant populist market. And even those arts are immune only in a narrow band of marketable styles.

We are often told that this rejection of art is a specifically American phenomena. The story goes that early in the Russian revolution, Vladimir Mayakovsky gave readings to stadiums and halls packed with fervent poetry fans. I am not sure how much I believe this. The same could be said of Alan Ginsberg who participated in Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue. However, I suspect that many in the crowd were not as avid for poetry as they were for the music and the overall event.

How did we become acculturated in this way?

I believe there are a combination of factors that make poetry (and other arts) outsiders to popular culture. Some historical, some societal, some the responsibility of poets themselves.

Historically, in western society, the arts have been reserved for the upper classes. In the past many arts and artists were dependent on benefactors for their survival. Michelangelo, Mozart, Rilke... Only the wealthy were able to afford the arts and so funded (and sometimes interfered with) their creation. Even today, many art initiatives, museums, and exhibits are funded through private, wealthy benefactors. And when wealthy individuals aren't available, there has been a recent influx of well-healed corporations — oil companies, banks, telecommunication giants — willing to pick up the tab in return for the residual advertising opportunity the association creates.

Even when there have been more populist versions of the arts they were kept separate, such as the distinction between concert halls and music halls, theaters and vaudeville, literary fiction and dime-store novels.

I suspect this heritage of the patron, begun out of necessity, has permanently marked the arts as an object of suspicion to the common populace. Anything out of the ordinary or obtuse is suspected of holding itself up as too intellectual, too well-crafted for common people to understand. Sort of like the emperor's new clothes come to life.

This suspicion is exacerbated by a native cultural proclivity to "normalcy". Outsiders are shunned not so much because their behavior in innately distasteful, but because it goes against the urge to maintain the fabric of societal norms. Norms are, inherently, fragile since they rely on a shared, often unspoken, agreement to what is expected. The only way to maintain that center is by identifying (and rejecting) behavior that falls outside of the norm. And artistic endeavors, almost by definition, fall outside the norm in their effort to refine, heighten, and highlight specific moments, emotions, or predicaments.

Finally, artists themselves have a corresponding proclivity for "acting out" in opposition to traditional mores. In dress, behavior, and opinions, artists often go out of their way — consciously or subconsciously — to set themselves apart. Nerval had his lobster, Dali his mustache, Warhol had his... well, Warhol made himself into the extravagant mask he used to protect his own sensibility.

There are many possible explanations for these excesses. At least in part they are a disguise devised to distract us (and the artist) from facing the inevitable question of whether their work is any "good" or not.

One of the distinguishing characteristics of art is the lack of objective criteria for judgment. Oh, art criticism creates frameworks for assessing value and worth and explanations for why we respond to certain works differently than others. But ultimately it is the individuals who decide for themselves whether something is worthy of the moniker "art".

Even when an artist is successful, doubt shadows their success. Recognition by the establishment can as easily acknowledge a shallow stylist toeing the prescribed avant garde line as it can identify actual depth and artistic skill.

Without recourse to external validation, the artist is driven forward purely on the bravado of believing they are doing something worthwhile. When they are unknown, it is a belief that their brilliance is unrecognized. When they are famous, it is a belief that their true talent extends far beyond simple "popularity".

The will power needed to support this unprovable theory over time is hard to maintain. As a defense, external extravagances help draw the discussion away from relative worth to questions of sanity or propriety, which can be easier for the artist to deal with.

Finally, there is the work itself. For the past hundred years or so, poetry — like many of the other arts — has been at war with itself. The rejection of historical models for new forms (what the art critic Robert Hughes refers to as the "shock of the new") has left many readers confused. The rejection of rhyme for free verse, the oral tradition for concrete poetry, the tactile oeuvre for performance art... Each step forward baffles, and disconcerts the uninitiated in the audience. To those not "up" with the latest styles, it all seems more like hijinks than high art.

So here we stand — artists and audience — on either side of the chasm. The artists sneering at the "popular" audience, as a preemptive attack against their likely response. And the audience poo-pooing the artists as haughty and incomprehensible, for making them feel uninformed.

The common factor in this Mexican standoff is that the disdain on both sides is based on a purely superficial interpretation of the other party. Yes, modern poetry can be incomprehensible, if you just look at the surface and don't take the words on their own terms. And, yes, plenty of people still refuse to accept anything as poetry that doesn't rhyme. But perhaps jumping straight from Robert Frost to Michael McClure is more than can be expected of any human.

The fact is, modern poetry and poets, like artists in other art forms, have over the past hundred years stripped away the traditional scaffolding (such as rhyme and standard meter) to try and understand the true nature of the art itself.  And in its barest form, there is opportunity for both amazing achievements and failure. Because without the support of a recognizable structure, the work either succeeds or it fails miserably. There are few just plain "good" poems nowadays.

There are poets that are "easier" or "harder" to interpret for first time readers. This is as true for experienced poetry fanatics and novices. But many non-readers won't give any of it a try, waving it off with a dismissive "I don't understand modern poetry."

No, they don't. And they won't unless they try. Even an avid poetry reader such as myself can have a hard time reading through modern poetry magazines. As soon as you hit a poem you don't like or find inferior, the other poems start to blur together as some sort of indistinguishable, unappealing fog.

The fact is, it takes a considerable effort to read poems by different authors in one sitting. Imagine if you squished War & Peace, Joyce's Ulysses, and a Danielle Steele novel into one book and had to read it in one sitting. Now intermix the pages. At some point, things that might have seemed evocative, illuminating, or simply enjoyably escapist become a painful, unrealistic slurry of words you must slog through.

That is often the experience when reading poetry magazines and anthologies.  The fact is we are taught to read for content: quickly skimming the page for key facts or phrases. But each poem is a world unto itself, with its own syntax, its own landscape, its own leaps and limitations. Trying to "read through" multiple poems guarantees you miss the poetry and only notice the peculiarity.

To have any chance of appreciating poetry, you not only need to pause between each poem, you have to literally reset your expectations, your compass, as if entering a new country with new laws and a new language. Make no mistake, this is not an easy thing to do. We, as members of society, aren't used to it. In fact, most writing (magazine, newspapers,  advertising) works hard to avoid your having to do any work or make any adjustments.

But each poem is a separate entity, designed to be viewed on it own separate stage.  And if we are to understand and appreciate it we need to give it room to breathe. This is what makes poetry poetry instead of prose with line breaks.

So the only true prerequisite for reading modern poetry is to stop, take a deep breath, and approach each poem as a new and completely unique experience. Does that mean, if the non-poetry readers of the world do that they will enjoy the poems they read? No. The fact is, there is a frightening amount of bad poetry out there, even among the "sanctioned" literature of modern anthologies and text books. Besides, we all have different tastes. Not everyone likes every popular novel or movie, not everyone likes the same poems.

But if you are ever going to like poetry, or even understand it, you need to read it on its own terms. It's what we do for movies. As the lights go down and the trailers begin, we clear our minds and get ready for a new experience . It is almost a Pavlovian response. This is the same response we need to learn to practice at the beginning of each poem we encounter.