ok computer
The early reviews of Google Glass are starting to arrive. Most seem enthusiastic, but I doubt I’d pay $1500 to beta test a gadget unless I was more than a little prejazzed to begin with. In the midst of processing these thoughts came the news that Google Now is available for the iPhone as well, giving me two things to complain about.
First, a little long story. When I’m bored, I check Facebook on my phone. When I’m really bored, I check it a lot, even though nothing changes. I used to do the same with email, much worse in fact. I’d tap refresh over and over. It didn’t matter that there was nothing new to see, even that fact was a reward. Now I knew there was nothing new, at least for the next fifteen seconds. The extent of the problem became clear when I rejiggered some things on the server and (deliberately) left webmail disabled. I’d find myself sitting on a park bench and my phone would be out and unlocked before I remembered there was no mail to check. And then I’d feel a sense of anxiety and unease. What if I had an email, just sitting there, unread? All the classic symptoms of (self-diagnosed) addiction and withdrawal. My Facebook habit is less bothersome because I don’t mind going a few hours without an update; there’s something magic about email that triggers an immediate need to know, right now.
Getting back to Now and Glass, my rule is pretty simple. I tell my phone what to do. My phone doesn’t tell me what to do. This is more obviously a problem with Now (as I understand it), but my concern with Glass is that we become so accustomed to semi-passively checking things that we can’t stop. I’d be walking down the street muttering “checkmymail checkmymail checkmymail” like a madman.
Long ago when computers had arcane interfaces that required a space here and a comma there and definitely not a tab, you may have heard an operator saying “ok, computer, let’s try this again” in an exasperated tone. The same tone a parent uses to coerce a problematic child into cooperating. (Jokes about who’s in charge of who are equally applicable to computers and children.) Today I feel you’re equally as likely to hear “ok, computer, what next” with the same resignation as a whiny teenager trying to find out if they’re finally done with their chores.
Has anything really changed? I remember when CrackBerry addiction was a serious problem and seem to recall reading similar complaints with the introduction of the original telephone and how it would soon destroy standards of social interaction. I imagine such complaints accompany all new technology, but there is something different about communications tech. As we become more interconnected, we become more interdependent. We are beholden to all those with the means to contact us. Maybe.
Another variation of this, as seen in online systems’ third party welcome emails.