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Society Technology

Settling up and moving on

We were done with our meal and so I signalled to a waiter to settle up.

A very young woman at a table nearby explained what I’d done to her companion – not unkindly, and without possibly knowing she was within earshot of a highly-sensitive Geiger Counter of a human being:

“Did you see that? Do you know why they do that wiggle with their hands? It’s because they used to have write their name on a piece of paper to pay their bills.”

Thank goodness my postman still calls me ‘young man’.

My vanity and intimations of mortality aside, it’s interesting to think about all these little cultural – or even structural – artefacts that litter our society and environment.

One example is the QWERTY keyboard. Most of us use one every day. After a few years and no-training, sheer repetition turns us into touch typists. Our fingers can reach for a P or the space bar even when we’re tapping away on a keyboard-less desk!

Yet this QWERTY layout is arbitrary from today’s vantage point. It’s a legacy of an arm’s race in the once red hot mechanical typewriter boom.

Indeed popular legend is that the key arrangement was selected not to speed up typing but rather to slow typists down – in order to prevent a typewriter’s hammers from jamming.

Whether true or not, the arrangement of keys has not been selected for the modern world – and yet it’s not going to change in our lifetime in the Latin-writing world.

(The only thing likely to supersede it is voice. How very back to the future).

Another example of this in-the-making is the navigation of virtual realities – or The Metaverse as we must call it nowadays.

Getting from imaginary A-to-B is sure to build off video game controls first pioneered by the likes of Doom and Super Mario 64 in the 1990s. Nobody is going to spend time figuring out whether that’s optimal, when so much of the money-spending adult world knows how to do it already.

Of course some habits or actions do go change or away.

My parents were still reciting their number on picking up their home telephone well into the era of Caller ID and mobile. At some point they stopped. Nobody does that any more.

On the other hand, many of my generation still end their emails with a ‘best’ or a ‘cheers’ and their name. The young people don’t.

You can’t model the future

These changes happen so slowly we seldom see them underway.

But for a striking visual example, check out this video of a Chinese model racing through a clothing shoot for a fast fashion brand:

Two things are happening at once here.

Firstly, the ease of manufacturing and the relentless turnover of disposable fashion means the manufacturer Taobao requires images of thousands of product skus every month. Possibly every week.

The model – a pragmatic woman called Cui Yue – laments they could shoot for 24 hours a day and still not get through the backlog.

Which means everyone involved must move at speed.

Secondly, there’s no film in the photographer’s camera. Instead it’s all digital, which makes the marginal cost of an additional shot extremely near-zero.

Fashion photographers were always click-happy, but this is the old flash-flash-flash cliché on steroids.

As a result Yue seems more like some Boston Dynamics ModelBot than the strutting, stalking models of old. She transitions through a dozen poses in as many seconds, with an economy of movement that would put a ballerina to shame.

She’s like a very pretty C-3PO doing Tai Chi.

Turn, turn, turn

Cui Yue has made peace with her eventual replacement by younger, cheaper women.

And I expect those women will have to accept they’ll be replaced by computer graphics. All those people with cameras and clothes and bottles of water are expensive, even at this pace.

The young historian at the restaurant who explained away my hand wave no doubt paid for her bill – like I did – by touching her phone to a portable card reader, brought to the table by the staff.

All very 2022 and yet probably not long for this world, either.

Waiting for the bill is only slightly less annoying than waiting in a queue at the supermarket in today’s world of self-serve checkouts. There’s a small social payoff at the restaurant, but I don’t think it will save the ritual any more than album covers held back music streaming.

Several startups enable diners to pay and leave whenever they want – just by scanning a QR code either at the start or the end of their visit. You get up and go when you’re done.

But that won’t last long either.

Amazon Fresh stores enable you to pick-up anything you like off the shelves and walk out without any formal settling-up. Doing so at a restaurant would be magnitudes easier.

Everything is changing, all the time. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re from the future.

If you can read this you’re already a relic from the past.

Categories
Society Technology

A singular feeling

“I’ve had enough,” said Simon the other day in a lockdown Zoom chat. “I just want things to stop for a while.”

“God I miss the 1990s,” he added.

“It’s true,” I said. “Nothing happened in the 1990s.”

“Maybe the PlayStation.”

Like a lot of people, I’ve got the sense the world has been going slightly crazy in the past few years.

The financial crisis. A bear market. Online warfare. Trump. Brexit. Russian bots. A bear market, again. A whipsaw rally.

A virus that flies commercial. Around the world in a month, not a year. A horror story you see coming, between the photos of your aunt’s cat on your social media feed.

I realised I’ve been thinking about this all wrong.

This isn’t an overwhelming number of things happening.

It’s all the same thing happening.

It’s exactly what my friend Simon says. The world is speeding up.

It took over 500 years to go from Gutenberg’s printing press to IBM’s electric typewriter.

It took 25 years to go from the electric typewriter to the Compaq desktop PC.

15 years from there to the Imac. Ten years from iMac to iPhone.

Five years from mobile phone calls to Facebook to WhatsApp.

People aren’t shouting at each other on Twitter because they have gotten angrier.

They’re shouting on Twitter because it exists, and before it didn’t.

People don’t disagree with you because they know better.

Everyone disagrees because nobody is sure of anything.

The government lied. Wall Street lied. The news lied. Facebook lied. Now everything might be a lie.

And faster and faster it goes.

This is how we make way for the singularity.

Not with a bang. Not a whimper.

A whirligig.

Categories
Society Technology

Why you’re doomed to techno-befuddlement by the time you’re 70

A friend aspires to be as adept at using consumer technology in 30 years – when he’ll be in his late 70s – as he is today.

This will be me and my friend in 30 years’ time. Children will smirk at us before being re-submerged in their entertainment vats.

He believes many older people have been lazy about keeping up with the underlying advances of the past 50 years.

And he argues that because he works in software engineering and makes an effort to understand the principles behind new technology, he will be in a good position to achieve his goal of being able to program his semi-bio-engineered cyborg gardener using mind control as easily as his grandchildren in the year 2054.

I believe he’s missing the point, and we’ve had many debates.

Silver surfer wipeout

We first got onto this topic after my friend expressed frustration with his septuagenarian mother, who was struggling to read her online banking webpage.

She’d had the Internet for years! Why couldn’t she just fill in the boxes and click the right buttons?

Because, I argued, she didn’t grow up with it. It’s not in her bones, or her muscle memory, or the appropriate synaptic connections.

While most older people I know have basically got the hang of parsing webpages by now, it was fascinating watching them try in their early encounters with the Internet.

Very often they’d start reading from the top left. They’d scan right, then return to the left hand side, drop their eyes down a bit, and continue the process.

They were reading the webpage like a book!

Ever wondered why anyone clicked on banner adverts or got confused about content versus text ads in the sidebar?

Now you know.

Reading a webpage like a book is bonkers to my generation.

Most of us grew up with – or at least encountered – video games.

We were taught very young to treat the screen like a plate of tapas to pick and choose from, rather than as a sacred text.

Perhaps even those who missed games (many young girls, in the early days, for instance) were still trained to have a roving eye by the frenetic activity of Saturday morning cartoons, or by the visually didactic offerings of Play School and Sesame Street.

Older people grew up on books, and watched movies at the cinema that were first staged like theatre productions. Their hands were held by the film’s creators through the viewing. Though they couldn’t articulate it, they mostly knew what to expect next (what shot, what reaction shot, what panning shot, and so on).

Whereas we were taught to take what we needed from a screen. Webpages, when they came, were no big leap.

Of course we were also young, inquisitive, and took pleasure in being adaptable – qualities that do seem to wane.

In any event, reading webpages has diddly-squat to do with understanding hypertext or TCP/IP.

Similarly, many of our parents well understood what a video tape was capable of doing.

The reason they struggled to program their VCRs was because they grew up in a world of wooden horses and plastic cars and just one fancy piece of electronics in the corner of the living room that at first they weren’t allowed to touch.

Are you already a luddite?

If you’re in your mid-to-late 40s and you believe your grandkids won’t be helping you with your household appliances in 30 years, ponder the following:

  • Do you spend fewer than 10 hours a day consuming content via a handheld digital device?
  • Do you still own a CD or DVD collection, or even an iTunes library?
  • Do you take a photo of every meal you have in a restaurant and then distribute it on social media?
  • Do you ever answer your front doorbell?
  • Do you take 546 portraits of yourself in front of every cultural landmark you pass, and know which is your good side, the right angle for your chin, and what’s your best filter?
  • Are you innately au fait with the rule of three?
  • When was the last time one of your memes went viral?
  • Do you answer your phone and/or leave voice messages?
  • (You actually have a landline?!)
  • Did you meet your last three partners on dating apps?
  • Has your Facebook account been dormant since 2016?
  • How often do you Snapchat something you’re ashamed of?
  • Do you fall asleep with your iPhone?
  • Can you even imagine sitting in front of adverts on the TV?

Sometimes you should be answering yes, and sometimes no.

Hopefully the questions speak for themselves. Most of us my age are already past it.

And this is just 2010-2020 technology. If you’re under 30 and you’re thinking “sure”, wait until you see what’s coming next…

The future is child’s play

My point is that what defines technological advances, eras, generations – and alienation – is not how the technology works.

It’s what people do with it.

A clue my friend is going to be metaphorically reaching into the befuddled darkness in his old age with the rest of us is he thinks none of the stuff in that list is new, and that it’s mostly stupid.

He doesn’t use Snapchat, he says, because he hasn’t got time, but anyway it’s just text messaging with pictures.

Posting photos of every dinner to Instagram is pointless, narcissistic, and distracting.

And so on.

Yes, perhaps I agree with him – but I would because I’m his age.

Our parents thought Manic Miner was a waste of time, too.

My father – who worked in Information Technology all his life – said I was in too much of a hurry to encourage him to get a home email address. Who was ever going to email him at home?

Whereas young people play with the new technology around them.

It’s not even new technology when you’re young. It’s just the world.

Their play may seem silly at first. But often they’re learning how to navigate the future.

Photographing your dinner seems ridiculous to those of us who made it to 46 without a daily visual record of what we ate.

But we weren’t cultivating multi-faceted media personalities from our pre-teen years with as large a footprint online as off.

I sent my friend a video this morning. It shows kids having fun using their AirPods as covert walkie-talkies in class:

My friend replied as follows:

A typically convoluted and wasteful solution. I’m sure they have great fun doing it, though.

(To get his tone, read his second sentence in the sarcastic voice of Basil Fawlty, rather than with the camaraderie of a Blue Peter presenter.)

His response illustrates why my friend will surely have to call out the droid training man six times before it’s finally packing away the grocery deliveries the way he wants it to.

Or why he’ll be one of the last to order an autonomous car that has a hot tub instead of a driver’s seat.

Or why he’ll never meet a partner on Tinder who will only make love after micro-dosing LSD.

Or why he’ll insist on sending text messages, rather than sharing head-vibes via an embedded emote transmitter-receiver.

Or why he’ll die of a heart attack because he hadn’t tracked his blood via a wearable monitor disguised as a signet ring.

Or whatever actually does come down the road; the challenges of tomorrow’s technology won’t look like those of today.

I don’t mean to make fun of my friend. I applaud his aspiration.

But he has got a solution for a totally different problem.