The Design of Future Things (8 page)

The fundamental restriction on people's successful interactions with machines is the lack of common ground, but systems that avoid this danger, that suggest rather than demand, that allow people to understand and choose rather than confronting them with unintelligible actions, are perfectly sensible. The lack of common ground precludes many conversationlike interactions, but if the assumptions and commonalities are made clear, perhaps through implicit behavior and natural interactions that are readily interpreted by both machines and people, why then, I'm all for it. And this is the topic of
chapter 3
.

 

F
IGURE
3.1

Kettle with whistle. A simple technology that summons us to do its bidding: Hear my whistle? Come and take care of me.

Photograph © Daniel Hurst. Used under license
from Acclaim Images™.

 

Whistles signal. People communicate. The difference is profound. Designers may think their designs communicate, but, in fact, they only signal, for the communication only goes in one direction. We need a way of coordinating our activities, cooperating with autonomous machines, so that we can perform tasks together smoothly, pleasurably.

Almost all modern devices come with an assortment of lights and beeping signals that alert us to some approaching event or act as alarms, calling our attention to critical events. In isolation, each is useful and helpful. But most of us have multiple devices, each with multiple signaling systems. The modern home and automobile can easily have dozens or even hundreds of potential signals. In industry and health care, the number of alerts and alarms increases dramatically. If the trend continues, the home of the future will be one continual wail of alerts and
alarms. So, although each single signal may be informative and useful, the cacophony of the many is distracting, irritating, and, as a result, potentially dangerous. Even in the home, where danger is less often encountered, when many signals might be active, even the beep of one is unintelligible:

The devices of the future promise to move us into even more confusion and annoyance if they follow the same method of signaling used today. Yet, there is a better way, a system of natural interaction that can be more effective and simultaneously less annoying. We manage well in the natural world, interpreting the signs and signals of the environment and its inhabitants. Our perceptual system conveys a rich sense of space, created from the seamless combination of sights and sounds, smells and feelings that surround us. Our proprioceptive system conveys information from the semicircular canals of the inner ear and our muscles, tendons, and joints to give us a sense of body location and orientation. We identify events and objects rapidly, often from just minimal cues—a brief glimpse or sound, for instance. But more importantly for my purposes, natural signals inform without annoyance, providing
a natural, nonintrusive, nonirritating, continuous awareness of the events around us.

Consider natural sounds, for example: not the beeps and buzzes of our equipment, not even speech sounds, but natural environmental sounds. Sounds convey a rich picture of the happenings around us because sounds are an automatic result whenever objects move, whenever they meet one another, scraping, colliding, pushing, or resisting. Sounds tell us where things are located in space, but they can also reveal their composition (leaves, branches, metal, wood, glass) and activity (falling, sliding, breaking, closing) as well. Even stationary objects contribute to our aural experience, for the way that sounds are reflected and shaped by environmental structures gives us a sense of space and our location within it. This is all done so automatically, so naturally, that we are often unaware of how much we depend upon sound for our spatial sense and for our knowledge of the events in the world.

There are lessons to be learned from these natural interactions with the real world. Although simple tones and flashes of white or colored light are the easiest ways for designers to add signals to our devices, they are also the least natural, least informative, and most irritating of means. A better way to design the future things of everyday life is to use richer, more informative, less intrusive signals: natural signals. Use rich, complex, natural lights and sounds so that people can tell whether a sound is in front or behind, up or down, what the material and composition is of visible objects, whether an expected event is near in time or far, critical or not. Not only are natural signals less intrusive, but they can be a lot more informative, always in
the background making us, if only subconsciously, aware of the state of ongoing processes. They are easier to identify, so we no longer have to scurry about trying to find the source of the signal. Natural, yet providing continual awareness. The natural world of sound, color, and interaction is also the most satisfying. Want an example? Consider the whistling kettle.

The sound of water boiling in a kettle provides a good example of a natural, informative signal. This sound is produced by pockets of heated water moving about, creating sounds that change naturally until, at last, a rapid, “rolling” boil is reached, at which time the teakettle settles down to a continuous, pleasant sound. These activities allow a person to tell roughly how close the water is to boiling. Now, add a whistle to signal when boiling has taken place, not through some artificial electronic tone but by enclosing the airspace in the spout, letting a small amount escape through the opening. The result is a naturally produced whistle, one that starts slowly, at first weak and unsteady, then progresses to a loud, continuous sound. Does it take some learning to predict how much time is available at each stage of the process? Sure, but the learning is done without effort. After listening to the sounds of boiling water a few times, you get it. No fancy, expensive electronics. Simple, natural sound. Let this be a model for the other systems: always try to find some naturally occurring component of the system that can serve as an informative cue about the state of things. Maybe it is a vibration, maybe sound, maybe the way light changes.

In the automobile, it is possible to isolate the passenger compartment from most of the vibration and sounds. Although this might be a good idea for the passengers, it is a bad idea for the driver. Designers have had to work hard to reintroduce the outside environment in the form of “road feel” to the driver through sound and vibration of the steering wheel. If you use an electric drill, you know how important the sound of the motor and the feel of the drill are to accurate, precise drilling. Many cooks prefer gas ranges because they can more rapidly judge the degree of heat by the appearance of the flame than by the more abstract dials and indicators of the newer types of cooktops.

So far, all my examples of natural signals come from existing appliances and devices, but what about the world of future things, where autonomous intelligence increasingly takes control? Actually, if anything, these completely automatic devices provide even richer opportunities. The sounds of the little cleaning robot scurrying about the floor remind us that it is busy and let us subtly monitor its progress. Just as the pitch of the vacuum cleaner's motor naturally rises when items get stuck in its hose, the pitch of the robot's motors tells us how easy or hard it is finding the task. The problems with automation occur when something breaks down, turning the task over to people, often without warning. Well, with naturalistic, continual feedback, there will be warning.

Whenever I walk into a research laboratory, I look to see how neat or messy it is. When everything is orderly, everything in its
place, I suspect this is a laboratory where not much work is being done. I like to see disorder: that means active, engaged people. Disorder is a natural, implicit sign of activity.

We leave traces of our activities: footprints in the sand, litter in the trash, books on desks, counters, and even the floor. In the academic field of semiotics, these are called signs or signals. To the reader of detective novels, they are called clues, and ever since the perceptive eye of Sherlock Holmes entered the world of detectives, they have provided the evidence of people's activities. These nonpurposeful clues are what the Italian cognitive scientist Cristiano Castlefranchi calls “implicit communication.” Castlefranchi defines behaviorally implicit communication as natural side effects that can be interpreted by others. It “does not require a specific learning or training, or transmission,” says Castlefranchi. “It simply exploits perceptual patterns of usual behavior and their recognition.” Implicit communication is an important component of the design of intelligent things because it informs without interruption, annoyance, or even the need for conscious attention.

Footprints, disorderly research laboratories, underlining and sticky notes on reading matter, the sounds of elevators or of a home's appliances: all are natural, implicit signals that allow us to infer what is happening, to remain aware of the activities in the environment, to know when it is time to step in and take action and when it is possible to ignore them and continue with whatever we are doing.

A good example comes from the world of the old-fashioned telephone. In the old days, when making an international phone call, clicks and hisses and noises let you know that
progress was being made, and through the differing sounds, you could even learn how well things were progressing. As equipment and technology got better, the circuits became quieter, until they became noise free. Oops, all the implicit clues were gone. People waiting on the line heard silence, which they sometimes interpreted to mean the call had failed, so they hung up. It was necessary to reintroduce sounds into the circuit so people would know that the call was still being processed. “Comfort noise” is what the engineers called it, their condescending way of responding to the needs of their customers. The sounds are far more than “comfort.” They are implicit communication, confirming that the circuit is still active, informing the telephone caller that the system is still in the process of making the connection. And, yes, that implicit confirmation is reassuring, comforting.

Although sound is important for providing informative feedback, there is a downside. Sounds are often annoying. We have eyelids that permit us to shut out scenes we do not wish to watch: there are no earlids. Psychologists have even devised scales of annoyance for rating noise and other sounds. Unwanted sound can disrupt conversations, make it difficult to concentrate, and disturb tranquil moments. As a result, much effort has gone into the development of quieter devices in the office, factory, and home. The automobile has become so quiet that many years ago Rolls-Royce used to brag that “at 60 mph the loudest noise in this new Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock.”

Although quiet can be good, it can also be dangerous. Without noise from the environment, the automobile driver can't be
aware of the sirens of emergency vehicles, or the honking of horns, or even the weather. If all roads feel equally smooth, regardless of their actual condition, regardless of how fast the car is traveling, how can the driver know what speed is safe? Sounds and vibrations provide natural indicators, implicit signals of important conditions. In electrically driven vehicles, the engine can be so silent that even the driver might be unaware that it is operating. Pedestrians subconsciously rely upon the implicit sounds of automobiles to keep them informed of nearby vehicles; as a result, they have on occasion been taken unawares by the silent, electrically propelled ones (or by any quiet vehicle, a bicycle, for example). It has become necessary to add a signal inside the automobile to remind the driver that the engine is running (alas, one manufacturer does this most unnaturally by using a beeping sound). It is even more important to add some naturalistic sounds outside the vehicle. The Federation for the Blind, an organization whose members have already been affected by the silence of these vehicles, has suggested adding something in the car's wheel well or on the axle that would make a sound when the car was moving. If done properly, this could produce a natural-sounding cue that would vary with the speed of the vehicle, a desirable attribute.