Issue

Article

Vol.28 No.1, January 1996

Article

Issue

Visual Interaction Design

Rites of Passage

This issue of the SIGCHI Bulletin commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Association for Computing Machinery. In this column, I had planned to reflect on the impressive history of the computing industry, to remember moments in the life of SIGCHI, and to revisit the relatively recent events that culminated in the creation of this group, the Visual Interaction Design Special Interest Area.

I spent quite a while thinking about the changes that have occurred in all of our lives because of the development of computers. Using an automatic teller machine, making a telephone call, shopping with a credit card, getting your car tuned; it's becoming quite a challenge to think of any aspect of our daily existence that is not affected by computer technology in some way. Yet the more I contemplated, the more I began to question whether the net effect of these changes is really as positive as I had initially believed.

I remember when I bought my first home computer; I gathered opinions from some of my technology-minded friends. One friend in particular was very careful with his opinions. "Why do you want a computer?," he kept asking, "What do you want to do with it?" "I want a computer to help me do my stuff," I replied.

I remember regretting that my answer had sounded so vague, as if I hadn't really thought through this computer-buying idea. But in retrospect, I had described exactly what I wanted and what I needed: "a computer to help me do my stuff." My friend was asking for information to help decide among the computers that were available at the time, but I was really looking for something that didn't exist then and that, sadly, still doesn't exist today.

Sure, there is some "stuff" that my computer makes easier. I appreciate being able to do my taxes with the computer, I find it easier to write on the computer than on paper, and it is easier to transmit this column to the SIGCHI Bulletin editor using the computer. In fact, I am sure that life would be challenging if I had to live without my computer. But there are things that the computer makes more difficult too.

My life is lived on scraps of paper: lunch receipts; business cards; symphony schedules; phone messages; lists of things to do; appointments made, then cancelled, then rescheduled; thoughts for this column scribbled on a dry cleaning receipt. I don't always have my computer with me and I almost never have time to transcribe these bits of information when I am at my computer. If I did make the time to enter all of these items, is there some application that would keep track of them all and enable me to find them again when I need them? With my manual system, straightening my desk uncovers an old phone message, which reminds me that I should get together with a colleague for lunch; writing our lunch date in my calendar reminds me that I have tickets to a concert this weekend and that this column is due at the end of the month; collecting my notes for the column reminds me to pick up my dry cleaning. My system may seem haphazard, but it works for me.

I've been tempted by the promise of day planners, and I am sure that computerized versions are out there. On occasion, I have disciplined myself to use online calendars and to enter my address book into a database to simplify my life. But these experiments are usually short-lived. Despite my best intentions, I find myself relying on a hard-copy printout, making endless revisions on paper until the paper copy no longer resembles the information online. Or I end up feeling like a data-entry clerk in my own life. Why must I discipline myself when my goal is to make my life easier?

Enormous strides are being made in the technology that is available today. Machines are faster, smaller, and more intelligent. But are they better? We have amassed incredible amounts of information about the most detailed aspects of interface design: font choices, icon designs, screen layouts, command names, the use of pointing devices and keyboard macros. But can we say with certainty what makes a good application? We've made household phrases out of terms like human factors, ergonomics, and usability. But do we really understand how people work?

An ancient proverb says that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. We have taken that step and we've accomplished some truly amazing feats. Computers are used by artists and auto mechanics, by toddlers and grandparents, by millionaires and blue collar workers. Computers are used for everything from brain surgery to ordering pizza. Computers pervade every aspect of our lives. But computers invade every aspect of our lives as well.

Have you changed your work habits to accommodate your computer? I've used lengthy, complicated steps to convert data from one format to another to be able to use it with a different application than the one that created it. I've had catalog telephone operators ask me to call back later because their computer was down and they couldn't verify my catalog order. I've unsubscribed from distribution lists whose topics interested me because the subscriber address list was being used as a mailing lists by advertisers. Why is it so hard to make my life easy?

I've heard people talk about the computer as an assistant and I fully agree. An assistant is just what I need. But if my current computer were my assistant, it would have been fired a long time ago. Well-trained assistants do as they are asked, anticipate your needs, are quick studies, and become better at their jobs by observing. There is responsibility on both sides, the person being assisted should be reasonably able to explain what is expected and reasonably consistent in providing the information the assistant needs to do the job.

I need an assistant that is always with me, that watches what I do and where I go, that retains information about my interactions with others, and that can organize information into whatever form is most useful to me at the moment. I need an assistant that can remember not just the most recent revisions, but also earlier drafts of memos, previous addresses for friends, and original dates of rescheduled appointments, in case I need to refer to that information as well.

Recently, a friend told me that he and his wife had decided to hire a professional organizer to help them wade through the paper jungle that their home had become. This woman talked to them for a few hours about their needs and their habits, created a system for organizing their files that was tailored to their life-style, and gave them a few simple guidelines for managing their paperwork on a day-to-day basis. Then she helped them organize the existing backlog of paper that had usurped half of their house. Time will tell whether this new system actually works for my friends, but I like the concept. I don't just need an assistant, I need a way of converting from being my own assistant to having a computerized one. I need an assistant that is tailored to my life-style, one that I can modify as my life-style changes.

I doubt that there is a single application that can fulfill all of these functions for me. In fact, the perfect application probably exists across a network of computers: my computer, the computer at the doctor's office, the computer at the symphony box office, the computer at the dry cleaner's, all working together to make my life easier. I need an assistant that can not only manage my data, but that can interact with everyone else's assistants too.

Of course, I don't want those other assistants to know too much about me. And I don't want my assistant to go off and write some scandalous "tell-all" book about me and my data. I need an assistant that is loyal and discreet, one that won't call up other computers and report on which applications I'm using or where I'll be this weekend.

I'm living between two worlds. My inclination is to take the high-tech road, to keep all of my data online and to invest in technology that will help me automate the more mundane aspects of my life. But I am a practical person too; I can't see investing my time, money, and data in acquiring and training an assistant that isn't capable of doing the job or that I don't trust. And I don't have the patience to endlessly tinker with a system that is supposed to be helping me. For my assistant to be really useful, everyone else should be using assistants too and our assistants should be compatible. We're at a point where we can see what needs to be done, but we haven't got the technology to actually do it just yet.

We've made incredible progress over the last fifty years in understanding and automating tasks. The next step is to integrate those tasks and the data they produce. We're getting closer to a world where we can focus on our "stuff" rather than on the technology required to "do our stuff," but we're not there yet. Getting there will require changes in technology, but it will also require changes in the way people think about technology and its role in their lives.

I can't wait to see what happens next.