Simple Pleasures Are the Best

Years ago, when my dad was in his seventies, I tried to teach him how to use a computer.  He was overwhelmed by what was for him a serious challenge.  This was long-enough ago that there were still dedicated "word processors," units which looked like a computer keyboard and monitor, but which had only one function — to create documents.  Learning how to use them was far easier than learning to use a computer and all it's distracting features, even in those days when they operated in a relatively limited field of effort.

My father tried, but a word processor was not for him.

I realized that the only technology my father might appreciate, even master, would be the closest technology to the manual typewriter he'd been using his entire adult life, a machine which would mimic his old Royal's features.  I was happy to show him how to work an electric typewriter, and he took to it like a fish to water.

I believe that one should consider before racing to adopt the latest technology, particularly if you are efficient using the technology you're used to using.  You should account for the expense, time to adjust, retrain, and even the loss of some aspect of your current process that you might come to wish you had retained, for whatever reason.

I posted about whether or not to agree to software updates years ago.

Be at ease with your own expert notion of what's comfortable for you.

Always use the simplest effective technology.

The Best Prescription

It may be better for your own mental health to ascribe human qualities to your computer’s performance.  For example, saying, “My computer’s in a funk today, not getting much done,” suggests that you should just be patient, perhaps try tomorrow when the machine’s feeling better.  While on the other hand, treating your computer’s performance as a technical issue—which of course it is—may have you spend the rest of your day trying to solve a problem which might just go away on its own after the computer has had a good night’s sleep—technically, a reboot.

If It's Fixed, Do We Care What Went Wrong?

Today my scanner would not respond, saying another program had the scanner in use, reporting this to me in an error message.  I closed every program I thought might use the scanner, no change.  The error message still maintained that the scanner was in use, and advised I reboot my computer.  It occurred to me I might just reboot the scanner, and when I did, the error went away and I was once again able to use it.

This is an example of countless times we know how to make a problem go away without actually knowing what the problem is.  I often think that most computer problems have very specific causes, like the old cartoon about the mainframe dying every night at a particular hour, confounding technicians, simply because the cleaning lady unplugs it to plug in the vacuum.

It seems likely to me that my scanner was not in use at all, but that some data bit had tripped to give the appearance that it was.  Some technicians delight in tracing such errors down, and are often paid handsomely for their efforts.  Still I wonder why application code doesn’t report errors more reliably and with greater accuracy.

In the old days, technicians poured over “stack overflow” reports which left a trail of… well, everything a computer was experiencing at the time of a system crash.  No one has time for that anymore, so we rely more heavily on error messages to tell us what went wrong.

I feel there’s a lot of room for improvement in error messaging, and it might be interesting to actually know what’s happening when things go wrong.  

Of course, our software applications and operating systems are vastly more complicated than they once were.  Perhaps there’s no time to test every conceivable interruption, and to neatly alert us what’s wrong.  But if each step in a software program verified what it was doing, in theory, when it was not able to perform that step, it could throw report an error that would state clearly what it was unable to do.  It might even suggest the cause of its problem, identify a key antecedent to it’s action, or other programs that were interfering with its operation.

Persons more interested in all this have addressed everything I just mentioned.  But I sense that error reporting — and recovery from error — could be much more robust than it is.  

Perhaps the reason error recovery isn't more robust is that it’s just easier to restart the program.

Nothing Is a Closed System

I find the intentions of "open systems" compared to "closed systems" fascinating.  Proprietary Apple is airtight compared to Windows which is locked-down compared to free-ranging Linux and others.  I was recently struck by an article by acting coach Anthony Meindl.  It made me think of computer code from a fresh angle:

If you look at your life, the tremendous amount of effort you had to exert to overcome obstacles and get to where you are today speaks of the possibility of your spirit. But it also shows that nothing is a closed system. Nothing. To think otherwise is to limit something that is limitless. That is—you.

Next time we run up against the limits of proprietary code, we might appreciate our strengths, and leverage our creativity to triumph over closed-mindedness.  Not encouraging hacking here, just resourcefulness.

Why Is Software So Slow?

The title of this post is the title of an article in September 2013 The Atlantic.

Hardware generally meets its potential, providing faster processing and more space in more and more confined areas.  Software, Charles Simonyi claims in an interview with James Fallows, has a way to go before it similarly meets its potential, that new or better-leveraged coding paradigms must be discovered and used to speed-up everything and to remove all the repetitive tasks we still are required to complete that computers are so well suited to address.

Read the article for all of its salient points.  All I want to say is that it’s all accurate, regarding the way things are and the way things have been from the beginning of computer programming.  We have yet to harness software's potential to be our amazingly talented and intuitive administrative assistant.

I was particularly impressed with what I thought was Simonyi's key observation, simply stated:  We can do things like send email “because the knowledge of how to do it has been encoded in software.”  This is how all software is applied, really.  But if you consider anything you do repetitively at a computer, aren't tasks left which could be “encoded in software”?  Of course there are.

Software features are often derisively referred to as “bells and whistles,” but some can be actually time saving.  Most of us likely don't use the shortcuts available to us, don’t leverage software within MS Office, for example, which eliminates repetitive tasks.  "Slow software" is a human problem also. We often don’t bother to use features because there’s a certain ramp-up learning period that initially lengthens the time it takes to complete something.  But anything we find ourselves doing over and over again we should investigate to see if there’s a feature that would speed the process.

For example, I don’t think most of us use macros enough.  They are available in many programs, the ability to “record” successive keystrokes as a one-click event to avoid typing so much.  Also, the notion of templates is a favorite of mine, that for anything you've ever done there may be a model for it that could be tweaked rather than starting all over again from scratch.

In the article cited, Simonyi complains about TV controllers and similar “remotes.”  It’s certainly imaginable that any of them might record macros to allow one-button pushes to guide a user down a well-worn path.  This is what “Guide” and “Menu” buttons do, but why not something more personalized?  If I always want to see the HBO documentaries, I ought to be able to get there in one click.

To get the most out of your applications, discover what they can do for you.

Internet Filtering Is More Useful Than Insidious

There’s a book out this week—which I haven’t read—entitled, The Filter Bubble: What the Internet Is Hiding from You. But I did watch a ten-minute talk given by its author, Eli Pariser, and I found his thesis somewhat self-evident and at the same time alarmist.

I hope all of us already effectively deal with the filtering Pariser is talking about. For example, the filtering of friends on Facebook example he cites is a simple options setting, and the moment it was introduced, people felt it and let each other know about it, which is the way the internet deals with unwanted filtering.

If you go to a wide variety of sites, and create intelligent, drill-down searches, unwanted filtering is not going to be a factor. You should also “search” using a variety of search engines and employ other tools as well. I often search on Amazon, as just one example, to find what’s been written, when, and who wrote it.

Filtering can only successfully direct you to choices if your choices are directed. The more you cast about in many directions for distinctly different, unrelated items, the less unwanted filtering has any relevance at all, while each new search you make creates filtering you’ve actively chosen.

Pariser says human editors have been replaced by algorithmic gatekeepers. Algorithms are necessary for the internet to function—and they don’t have the last word. Editors and journalists always and will forever serve a function, whether the model is the past where the power was vested in a trusted few, or today on the internet where we all have more gate-keeping options. Most of us would still rather trust a professional whose job it is to keep the gate than to rely solely on our own vetting of everything—of course we trust sources. The fact that we can choose among many more sources, and even find obscure bits of information ourselves, is surely a good thing—provided we are responsible enough to make some effort to discover the truths we need to know. It’s still far easier in our filtered internet universe in which the filters are easily removed or bypassed than in the old world in which they were opaque and unavoidable.

The internet is like Wikipedia, astonishingly self-correcting. We have far more power to get the straight story than any generation before ours. Filters, understood properly, are useful tools, not blinders.

False Advertising

A person should be absolutely satisfied that a web site or an email or any social media posting is completely legitimate before responding to it in any way. This is because the purveyors of spam have become sophisticated enough to fool even an intelligent casual observer.

For example, I recently got an email describing an interesting job opportunity. It was from a person I didn't know—but there are many in my network I don't know yet and if they have work for me, I want to hear from them. The language of the email was only slightly off-beat—call it a yellow flag, not a red one.

When I went out on the internet I couldn't find the company. Okay, that's almost certainly a red flag—except it meant I didn't find any bad reviews. Could the company simply be new or obscure? Does every business have a web site? Well, probably, yeah, so it was a red flag. Still, I wanted to believe it was a legitimate opportunity and wasn't yet ready to hit "delete."

But the indisputable red flag was that the email appeared not to have been sent to anything resembling my email address, nor was it from any business. These days, all of the email header information can be faked, so if it isn't from a legitimate enterprise—and certainly if it appears it wasn't sent to you—it’s garbage.

I saved myself further trouble, but wasted my time in the bargain.

Six Months to Live

I recently completed a short stint as an IT Technical Recruiter—short, because I didn't make any placements, and particularly because the owner of the recruiting firm I associated myself with and I mutually agreed I wasn't a "good fit."

My most valuable take-away from this experience is the fact that, if you’re an IT pro who finds him-or-herself unemployed for any reason, after six months your career is simply no longer viable.

I've been out of an IT job for far longer than six months. I had no idea my professional life was over. When I learned that it was, I felt how I imagine a zombie must feel when he first notices his accustomed lifestyle evading him.

I have a major IT home project I’d like to finish before I die—as in real death—which involves making one large searchable database out of my two enormous and very distinct existing ones. Perhaps only so my descendents can reconstruct some of the essence of me after I’m gone. This project will ensure me a life in IT while my ruined career remains among the walking dead.

And ensures my digital existence when my real existence ceases to… exist.

Tick-Tock

I don’t appreciate digital clock faces because you have to read them. You can glance at a traditional face with two arms and know immediately it’s ten after two. Digital reads, 2:10—a minimum of two steps, one for the hour, one for the minutes. And with digital, you have to think how close your time is to the hour, or quarter-hour, or half-hour; and how far from noon (or midnight) you are, proportionally. One quick glance at a clock face with hands and you know it all. Digital, well, you have to think about it. Not for very long, hopefully, but it’s not a welcome effort.

Another benefit: With an analog clock face you get aesthetics. There are attractive digital displays out there, but so many more traditional clock faces are minor works of art—especially if you’re into classic utilitarianism.

A mechanical stopwatch is an even simpler pleasure. A glance at one hand and you know how much time has passed—as long as you’re under a minute. All right, I’ll grant that, in the case of a stopwatch, having a digital number blinking at you may be saving mental effort, because you want that single number, and as precisely as possible, usually.

But if a one-second margin for error is acceptable, and you really want to know roughly how close you were to some mark, say 30 seconds, or a minute, then once again the mechanical watch is more friendly to your task.

And, by the way, for any hand-held stopwatch, digital or analog, I feel a one-second margin for error is the best you can hope for. Our reaction time is human.

I'll leave for another day whether "human" is naturally more analog or digital, but I bet you can guess how I feel about that.

Blogging Hiatus

Please read today's post on my Meta blog, which explains my recent absence from these pages.

What Do You Know?

Once in a while I see technical position advertised with the expectation that the applicant can do their work completely from memory. I have a friend who can do this, and he has an amazing career.

Most of us rely on a variety of references to back us up. One of the first lessons I was ever taught ended with this advice: If you’re ever asked if you know something, say yes, take the assignment, and get a manual.

The knowledge most of us carry around with us falls somewhere between total recall and knowing where to go to get it.

I have a personal bias toward knowing where to go. My reasons are that I have too many technical interests to have it all memorized, and also that so much rote memorization tends to crowd out original thinking—including the latest-and-greatest technical information, which becomes out-of-date the moment you commit it to memory.

It does slow a person down, admittedly, if they have to look everything up. Success with technology involves knowing what to know, and where to go to find the rest.

3-Button Mouse, 3-Button Velcro

I lament the demise of the three-button mouse. What an intuitive interface! You would wiggle your three fingers in a balletic dance, and the need for a very large number of keystrokes was eliminated. Of course, you’d have to have a program which incorporated the elegance of the device, and there were few. So few that the 3-button mouse fell out of favor.

I lament the demise of the three-strap Velcro on tennis shoes. Never very popular, people just didn’t get it. That third strap provided much additional comfort. It also provided security. If one of a two-strap Velcro opens, you feel as if your shoe is about to fall off. If you lose one strap and two are still secure, you feel just fine.

The best doesn’t always prevail.

Belt Ring

I have a ring for my belts. It came with a hook, but the hook is superfluous. Better to hang the ring on a hook for quicker access. Grab the belt you want, open the ring, take the belt, close the ring, hang it back on its hook.

I’ve looked for this item for sale the internet, no luck finding one as sturdy with a hook as easily removed and discarded. Closest available I found is here.

Perhaps it’s just too perfect a solution to be popular.

My Favorite Algorithm

There are algorithms for everything.

My favorite represents a combination of numbers in a single number. The value of that number is determined as the sum of all 2 ** (N-1) for each N included in the set.

For example, the set containing 1, 7, and 11 is:

(2**0) + (2 ** 6) + (2 ** 10) = 1089
(1) + (64) + (1024) = 1089

This algorithm was particularly useful when computer space and processing time were at a premium. But even today, it’s cool to be able to “say” several specific things with a single number.

The way it works is that each combination will have its own unique number, no matter how many items are in the set, using powers of 2.

Best to limit the range of “N” so you can decode your result number expediently. The software I know that employed this algorithm used it for a range of 1 to 15.

When to Upgrade Software, Hardware—or Anything Else

It's reasonable to have to pay for upgrades, but you should only upgrade if you require the functionality the upgrade provides.

The only reason to upgrade when you don’t require upgraded functionality is because the current version will no longer be supported. If you upgrade in this case, you aren’t actually upgrading, you’re meeting a support requirement.

Upgrades which increase performance, or correct errors or design flaws, should be called fixes.

It's not reasonable to have to pay for fixes.

Number, Please?

A friend of mine was looking for a phone number the other day. It wasn’t written in his address book, it wasn’t in his Blackberry. It wasn’t on his laptop computer, and wasn’t anywhere to be found in address books on the computer network at work.

He eventually found the number. It was on a scrap of paper .

Information aids can keep us from finding what we need to know.

Software: IdeaFisher

IdeaFisher is one of my favorite programs. Its benefit is the ability to associate ideas, just like we do. It's like plugging in an expansion module into your brain. The associations you make in your thinking are suddenly increased many-fold by IdeaFisher's creative suggestions.

IdeaFisher is now ThoughtOffice, and I don't own a copy. ThoughtOffice taps the internet, and includes images in its associations--certainly a boon.

But ThoughtOffice cut out IdeaFisher's most appealing and useful feature: the ability to add your own associations and ideas to the ThoughtOffice database.

I really liked being able to add associations to the IdeaFisher's database of ideas. It's as if ThoughtOffice turned the IdeaFisher model on its head, giving me countless associations but no ability to delete those I don't care for nor to add my own.

How I enjoyed IdeaFisher! Over time my "version" of IdeaFisher became startlingly familiar, a database of my thought processes, surprising me with associations I'd never made myself between my own ideas--it out-thought me. It was rather spooky, like the thing was my smarter twin, having original thoughts that could have been mine.

How many times have the simple, elegant uses of a program been hobbled by "improvements"?

If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Project Competition

I see too many projects in competition for the same business real estate.

If you want to get something done, and it will take coordinated teamwork and many steps to complete, making a project out of it is defensible, even smart. But too often, in the name of better business, project-making becomes a distraction from actually doing business.

If you have a project in mind that's similar to one already in progress, you should consider whether it's really worth it to scrap the original effort for the sake of some new approach. It's probably better to finish what you started, and follow-up with an intelligent evaluation period. It's even a worse course to start the new approach concurrently with the old, either denying that their end goals are the same, or squandering resources in the name of "healthy competition."

I should cite examples, but the best of which I'm aware I'm not at liberty to talk about. I appeal to your common sense—cite your own examples.

Win98 Was Stable

Windows 98 was a stable and secure operating system.

It was stable because you could simply reinstall everything if it failed, or restore it from a tape backup. You’d have a tape backup because you assumed Win98 would crash.

Win98 was secure, at least during its heyday, because this was prior to the exponential growth of internet viruses.

A case for the robustness of Win98 (second edition) is hard to make from a technical standpoint. But in practice, I never had problems with it. Subsequent Windows operating systems increased in complexity and, in my opinion, were rushed to production (release “updates” have multiplied almost as quickly as viruses). I feel we now live in a very uncertain computing environment.

Disagree, please. I’m surely not accounting for the increased sophistication of today’s software. But how much of that sophistication do we need, and at what price? And not a dollar cost so much as a demand for more of our time.

If hardware and software are ends in themselves, then we live in the best of all possible worlds, and it only gets better. But to the extent computers are tools intended to accomplish real-world tasks, we need better mousetraps.

Note-Taking

It is not true that you remember everything, or even that good ideas invariably resurface when they’re due and may be safely ignored when they first occur to you. Fact is, a new idea appears under a unique set of circumstances which never occur again, and an idea that’s ignored is as likely to vanish without a trace left in your memory.

Okay, I don’t know for sure this is a fact, but it seems reasonable to me. And I’m retaining far more information since I started taking note of my Big Ideas.

But who wants to lug around a notebook? I mean, a paper journal—leave your computer at home. I carry a rugged but ultra-thin and pliable pad, a Moleskin Cahier Pocket Ruled Journal :