Monthly Archives: December 2009

On the brink of 2010

Exactly one decade ago tonight I got home from my millennium festivities (TM), fired up my IBM ThinkPad 760, logged on to Freeserve via my 56K dial-up modem and opened this missive from the must-read geek newsletter of the day, NTK.

Reading it again now, I almost can’t believe it only came out in 1999. Feels more like a whole generation ago.

Consider this: it wasn’t until February of the following year that I even had the chance to surf the internet unmetered (i.e. free from 0845 call charges racking up with every second spent online).

Now I’m lucky enough to enjoy unlimited data at 20Mb/s at home. Streaming video at high quality is a convenient reality, not a cumbersome aspiration. And though we iPhone owners might complain about o2′s data network, the fact remains – we’re doing things with our mobiles that would still have looked like science fiction just a decade ago.

One of my favourite discoveries of 2009 has been Leo Laporte’s TWiT Network. As well as providing a stunning example of the democratisation of media that’s come to pass over the last few years, TWiT produces some amazing podcasts – one of which, this week, features thoughtful contributions on what’s made the last 10 years’ worth of tech advances so special and ultimately so transformative.

It really renders any further analysis from me here redundant. I recommend you listen if you have some spare time.

Here’s to the next decade of innovation, excitement and disruption. Happy new year!

What I’ve learned from air crash TV

I’ve been getting some (understandable) ribbing at home about my recent fascination with aviation disaster documentaries – in particular National Geographic’s Air Crash Investigation.

Even with air security firmly in the news, it’s easy to dismiss programmes like these as sensationalist or morbid.

But what they’ve taught me over the last few months is how rich and multi-faceted aviation safety is – and how intellectually stimulating the subject can be.

Allow me to ruin your festive period by expanding a little on what I mean.

Sometimes, it turns out, the factors which jeopardise air safety are huge – like the failure in corporate ethics which allowed one near-catastrophic DC10 accident in 1972 to be followed two years later by another fully-catastrophic one which happened for the exactly the same (by then, avoidable) reasons.

But sometimes they’re about tiny details of plane design and ergonomics - like the decision to put a vitally important control next to a pilot’s footrest (one slip of the foot, in this example, and the craft becomes invisible to air-traffic control or other aircraft).

Sometimes they’re audio-related. When two cockpit warnings share the same sound, and one of the two warnings is much more prevalent, who can blame pilots for confusion when one day the second meaning is what’s being indicated?

(The Helios disaster I’ve just linked to was also compounded by linguistic issues – a Cypriot co-pilot and a German captain who had difficulty even understanding each other.)

Or the contributing factors can be physiological - like the pilot who, without visual cues to correct him, erroneously disregards what his instruments are telling him because he’s suffering from vertigo. (His inner ear, in other words, is playing tricks on him.)

Sometimes they’re managerial. If a pilot fails to properly delegate tasks to his team, and as a result everyone becomes fixated on a single part of the cockpit, vitally important signs elsewhere can be missed.

And sometimes they’re cultural. It was Malcolm Gladwell’s examination of why hierarchical, deferential societies traditionally crashed more planes (because co-pilots were less ready to challenge their superiors when mistakes were made) which first piqued my interest in this whole subject.

Sometimes they can be contributed to by regulations designed to make flying safer. If a few more minutes’ delay taking off means a flight will have to be postponed due to limits on working hours, a pilot could be more inclined to push ahead and take off in haste.

Or they can be about processes, and the failure to adhere to them. The repair that’s done skimpily; the service that’s missed because one maintenance worker’s off sick; the check that’s falsely signed as having been completed when one vital step has been omitted.

But the factors I find most interesting – in my capacity as a geek – are those faced not just by the aviation industry, but by everyone involved in interaction design and/or usability.

As planes have become equipped with ever more complex automation systems, how do airlines ensure that pilots properly understand how to use them? Improved training? Clearer manuals? Better visual and audio cues?

I’ve been surprised to learn how many accidents have been caused over the decades by pilots simply not grokking their autopilot: failing to understand what it controls, what it doesn’t, how elements of it can be inadvertently switched off, and how to recognise if that’s happened.

Worse still, there’s the psychological effect of reliance on automation. If as a pilot there’s little to do once you’re up in the sky – for hour after hour – how do you maintain concentration? (This is not an academic question.)

And I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface.

There must be other subjects as absorbing and multi-disciplinary as this. But right now I’m struggling to think of one.

Pop: How to miss the point

I’m currently reading Lawrence Lessig’s book Remix (subtitle – “Making art and commerce thrive in the hybrid economy”).

It’s an impassioned, largely well-argued cry for copyright laws to be reworked so present and future generations can build new content from the “prior art” of the past. Lessig’s celebration of “read/write” culture obviously strikes a chord with a blogger like myself – even as the long-time copyright-holder in me starts to bristle at the thought of any erosion of intellectual property rights.

But all that’s beside the point – because when I reached page 95 of the book, I nearly stopped reading it altogether. In fact, I wanted to throw the damn thing out of a window.

Why? Referring to the mash-up genre of which he’s so fond, Lessig writes:

I want my kids to listen to SilviaO’s remix of fourstones’ latest work – a thousand times I want them to listen. Because that listening is active, and engaged, far more than the brain-dead melodies or lyrics of a Britney Spears. Her work draws on nothing, save the forbidden and erotic. It is [...] totally derivative, and deeply disrespectful of the tradition from which she comes.

Now wait just a second. Did I read that correctly? Britney Spears’ work is deeply disrespectful of pop?

Man, if there’s one thing I hate it’s a quasi-populist intellectual who doesn’t understand pop music.

Dear Mr Lessig. I invite you to climb down from your Olympian heights for a moment. Then enjoy, below, one of the smartest, sharpest shards of pop culture from the last decade. And then reconsider your views immediately. Kthxbai!

Rebrandage de luxe

When your product has become popularly known as “wifebeater”, that’s an image problem from the very top drawer.

So plaudits to Stella Artois for their current attempt to drag their brand back into the sophisticated territory it once inhabited.

A series of clips on their YouTube channel (execution by creative agency Mother) spoofs early 60s French TV shows with scalpel-like accuracy.

Reasons why I should like this campaign:

  • I drink Stella Artois and recognise it as a high quality lager which deserves an image improvement
  • I’m a Francophile
  • It’s funny
  • I used to watch a lot of Jean Luc Godard during my Pretentious Teenage Years (TM)

Reasons why I’m not sure if I do:

  • The recycling angle is utterly spurious
  • Stella Artois is Belgian anyway
  • The people at Mother look so sickeningly young, cool and Soho that I’m not sure whether to envy them or nominate them for (sweary link alert) latfh.com

Hmm. I’ll get back to you.

Commercial TV: The TV commercial

Thinkbox is the marketing body for commercial TV in the UK. Apparently this ad has been around for about seven months, but I’ve only just seen it (on National Geographic). It’s rather good.

Mind you, consider this. I spotted it while whizzing through the ad break (via Sky+) at 30x speed – but only rewound to watch because I glimpsed the thinkbox logo, and am a media industry geek. It’s one of the least arresting ads at high speed I’ve ever seen.

A touch of class for Christmas time

Christmas TV spells glitz and glamour. Or at least it did when I was growing up in the variety wonderland of the 70s.

These days I’m inclined to think the excitement and production values have gone out of Christmas telly. (Admittedly I haven’t actually watched any in the last decade, but go with me on this.)

So I thought I’d take the law into my own hands and inject a moment of class into your Yuletide experience, via a special piece of music.

Friends, I give you Laurie Johnson’s 1952 composition ‘Gala Performance’.

I invite you to click play, close your eyes and picture – as the title would suggest – immaculately-dressed ladies and gentlemen entering a glittering West End theatre, perhaps shaking hands with minor royalty on the way. Red velvet seats, marble busts and gilded balconies may come into your mind’s eye. A sea of bow ties, mink stoles and opera glasses.

Or, if you’re of a certain age, you might involuntarily imagine Eamonn Andrews “disguised” as a bus conductor, scrabbling up the stairs of a Routemaster to greet a surprised John Conteh.

Either way this is a stunning tune. Merry Christmas, one and all.

Designing the FUI

Found via Information is Beautiful:

I think this man has one of the coolest jobs in the world. Mark Coleran specialises in designing FUIs – Fantasy User Interfaces.

In other words, he creates the impressive-looking front ends for fake computer systems in Hollywood movies. Flashing dials, sexy animations, blinking this, scrolling that… It’s the ultimate, shamelessly fun design brief: nothing has to actually do anything, it just has to look cool.

Who even knew that was a job? But I tell you what – Coleran is bloody good at it.

You can see a selection of his creations as stills here, and in motion below. Go here to watch full-screen.

Why does Subway smell the way it does?

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Sometimes you just don’t need Google Maps or GPS.

There are two businesses on the high street which announce their location – pleasantly or obnoxiously, depending on your viewpoint – before you’ve even seen them. You simply need to follow your nose.

One is Lush, of which more another time. The second is Subway.

I used to walk past a Subway every morning on my way out of New Street station. It’s at the top of an escalator, but you only had to get halfway up before the restaurant was assaulting your nostrils: a delicious, herby bread smell. I never succumbed, but if I’d been walking past at lunchtime, I probably would’ve.

However subconsciously, Subway’s smell is as much a part of its brand as its famous logo, or the “Doctor’s Associates” copyright notice on its advertising.

(I always feel the latter detail is a sneaky attempt to give the brand – and its low-fat sarnies – a veneer of medical approval. Actually Doctor’s Associates – Subway’s holding company – is so named because one of its founders has a Ph.D in physics. But I digress.)

It’s not just the UK’s cities that find themselves shrouded in a sandwichy smog. The Subway aroma spans the globe – and it’s utterly consistent whether you’re in Moscow or Monmouthshire. Blogger Rifka Seltzer writes:

It smells EXACTLY the same on Grand Concourse in the Bronx as it does on Pacific Coast Highway in Laguna Beach. No matter where you go, Subway smells the same. And it smells strong. Actually, I noticed this when I was in Berlin. The Subway at the entrance of Ostbahnhof reeked of that…I don’t know…Subway smell.

Now, everyone knows retailers can, and do, pump carefully-chosen fragrances into their shops to drive sales and footfall. Here’s one device which can do the trick – with a range of cartridges available replicating everything from bacon (scent 127) and fresh ground coffee (88), to suntan lotion (110) and burning plastic (117), via the quite alarming-sounding smell of “internal horror” (1011).

And when I searched online, the first page I found about “That Subway Smell” suggested the signature bready odour “is clearly being pumped mercilessly out of the shop by wind turbines resembling jet engines”.

But this was a lone voice. No-one else concurred – not even the 1,346 members of the I Work(ed) At Subway And It Made Me Wanna Cut Myself Facebook group (who presumably should know). It would appear the smell is a genuine by-product of the baking process. Mark Evanier reports one Subway staff member as saying:

The problem is that despite what the ads might lead you to believe, Subway shops do not bake their own bread from scratch. They thaw and then bake frozen dough. I’m not sure if it’s in the thawing or the baking or both but the smell comes mostly from that. I realized that from working there and noticing when the smell was at its worst. It clings to the pans and racks that are used in the baking process and it also clings to the people who work there, as any of their family members will attest. I think it has something to do with the yeast in the dough.

I think it also comes partly from the marinara sauce with the meatballs in it, especially if we haven’t been selling a lot of meatball sandwiches that day. The longer the meatballs sit in that sauce, the more you can smell them throughout the shop. The smell you notice is a combination of those two fragrances.

In his pragmatically-titled 2007 post The Smell of a Subway Restaurant on Your Clothing is Inevitable After Eating There M. Marcus claimed the chain were actively trying to reduce the odour by:

installing more ceiling fans into their stores to have more ventilation. In addition, the entrance and exit doors are being left open so that fresh air can come in and the smell of fresh bread can go out.

Maybe this is the right idea – at least if you agree with one Australian blogger’s view that “the smell of yeast/herbs/bread makes Subway smell like someone farted”.

You may also be in favour of greater ventilation if you work there. Back to Facebook again, where “Amanda” writes:

DO NOT leave anything from work in your car.. I used to leave my visor in my car.. I cant anymore, my car seems to always smell like subway, and I am embarassed to have people in it… I CLEAN IT EVERY WEEK!!

Final word to Subway worker “Janine”, who appears to speak for many when she opines:

the smell of the whole place is enough to make me want to puke! i cant stand being anywhere with that smell on me.. and IT DOSENT GO AWAY! its in your hair even in your underwear! meatballs!! omg puke!!!

OMG puke indeed.

Anyway, hold on to your nostrils, because even if Subway aren’t deliberately shoving their emissions in your face, plenty of other people will be in future. There’s even a name for it: coercive atmospherics. Consider this 2006 experiment on behalf of the California Milk Processing Board:

A bus shelter usually isn’t the kind of place where people want to breathe deeply. But that may change in San Francisco next week at a few of the shelters that will be infused with the scent of fresh-baked, chocolate-chip cookies [...] The just-out-of-the-oven cookie bouquet will be embedded in scent-infused adhesive strips. They will be affixed throughout the interior of the shelters, including underneath the seats.

Just one day after their installation, the strips were removed, apparently due to allergy concerns. But as Jonathan Zittrain expounded, in truth San Franciscans’ concerns probably ran deeper than that:

Olfactory advertising is crossing a line [...] When it’s as easy as stickers, suddenly any place of public accommodation can assault your senses with whatever smell is paid for. Unlike the use of even large billboards, there’s no easy way to avert your nose the way you can avert your eyes, making the advertising much more invasive. Sure, magazines have those smelly perfume ads — but only once you’ve decided to open the magazine and try to read it.

Imagine, in other words, spam that really smells of SPAM.

You, my unfortunate friend, have sniffed the future.

The greatest pop record of 2009

You’ll notice the title of this post is a statement, not a question. That’s because what I’m about to assert is beyond dispute. Really.

Tik Tok by Ke$ha is this year’s best pop record by a country mile.

Yes, others might be subtler, more sophisticated, less crass. But is that what we want in our pop music? No, it is not.

We want trashy lyrics about booze, boys and clubbing. We want shameless audio gimmicks galore. We want thumping choruses topped with a vocal that could strip paint. And if those choruses are underpinned by dirty analogue synthesizers, then that just about completes my Christmas list.

The acid test of any pop record is this: how would it sound at a nighttime fairground, PA cranked up to 11, accompanied by flashing lights and the smell of onions? I bet this would sound fan-frickin-tastic.

Inbox Zero

Brothers and sisters, this evening I have an important announcement to make.

I have just reached Inbox Zero on my work e-mail.

Now, this may not seem significant to you, but I can tell you exactly when I last hit this pinnacle of supreme Zen clarity: it was 1 August 2003. Two thousand, two hundred and twenty-one days ago. (Don’t ask me why I know this.)

Of course, back then I didn’t appreciate what the term Inbox Zero meant. In fact, scratch that – I didn’t fully appreciate its meaning until five minutes ago, when I finished watching this 2007 presentation by Merlin Mann.

I seriously recommend you set aside 60 minutes at some point to watch this video: it might be the most productive hour you’ve ever spent.

Me? I managed to feel 30% smug about the habits I’d already picked up by osmosis, and 70% liberated by the new stuff I learned. (NB: Percentages may not be totally accurate.)