New Technology, Simply Complicated

New technology? There was a time when I loved complicated machines and computer programs; learning to master them gave my pre-teen brain a hit of dopamine. Look what I can do!

But then something switched; I’m trying to put my finger on the moment that it happened.

Analog dials suddenly became so much more attractive than buttons. A needle display from empty to full was so much more comforting than a digital percentage. Simplify, simplify, simplify. How do you make the complex simple and easy to use? the mental challenge was fascinating. Give up functionality for ease of use? When the Apple Macintosh computer came out with their version of graphical user interface, I was enthralled.

But then, simple gets complex. We want new features, we want new functions, we want more, more, more power. On my phone today, I am told that I can create full length feature films, but I can barely record a personal video as each update moves the controls, adds new features, changes the colors. I’m the kind of person that keeps the same car for a long time.

So what was that moment? The moment that my brain realized that complexity was going to move beyond my human potential to master the many worlds of new tech.

I think it was in trying to teach others—usually my teachers and parents—how to use these high-tech gadgets. That’s when I realized the subset of functions that they were going to use and the need to simplify.

It was no longer me and the machine, but the community that needed to use the machine. It was no longer the supercomputer relating to the supernerd. It was the personal computer interacting with the community. The computer had left the ivory tower of academia and escaped the silos of government because scientific discovery and business moguls had driven the costs down to the common folk.

Today, everyone has a computer within reach. We call it a smart phone or a smart watch or a smart TV or a smart refrigerator. Technology is no longer dumb; it’s been programed with personality—personal assistants, in fact, that talk to you. A new interface, you simply tell it what to do with your voice in normal everyday language. It’s like talking to a person; how much simpler could it be? But like any person, it also misunderstands me and doesn’t always do what I want.

I’m waiting for the next interface where the computer just knows what I want, sends out the request, and delivers my chai tea latte by drone directly to the landing pad on the roof of the house, which is surrounded by solar panels and a safe distance away from my teleportation antennae to prevent interference. Of course, teleportation is retro technology, but I’m a reusable technology person. I like the face-to-face connection instead of the new holographic meeting spaces. My mom doesn’t get out anymore, so I only meet her in holo; she disabled the teleport (cheaper that way) and the only way to get there is by airpod. I have to turn on airplane mode and tap the right airpod twice to access the old tech channels, swipe up on the screen, and teleport by old tech. Only half of me gets over there, but sometimes I can only deal with a half-hearted conversation anyway. Sometimes old tech is useful.