Since F8 I’ve been thinking a lot about frictionless sharing and what it means and in particular how I feel about it. I think it’s best summed up for me by bastardising a Douglas Adams quote - ”I love frictionlessly shared things. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”

Frictionlessly shared things feel devoid of meaning to me. They were shared automagically without human intervention and, as such, all they have is an algorithmic relationship with that person. Normally the only human intervention connected with them is to switch them off.

That’s why I tweeted this this morning:

I’ve been fascinated in declarative vs implicit sharing for a while now, but somehow seeing the very ignorable stream of people’s actions flow by has sharpened the focus. I’ve not glanced and seen one interesting thing within it. It’s like your peripheral vision as you drive fast along a road. It feels like mere fodder for the robots; for other algorithms to try at best to curate something for you out of your friends actions, or quite possibly to try and make better adverts.

It’s aspergic social software. I always think that good social software is where you can picture yourself having that conversation with someone - where they have edited their subconscious in some way before the stream of data emerges.

There are three services around at the moment which are the converse and feel very meaningful to me. Interestingly the sharing within them is declarative and frictionfull. You have to work to do something before sharing it and in doing so, far more of you, the thing your friends and people who follow you care about, emerges.

The first of these is Readmill. At some point I should write more about why I like it in general. It’s beautiful. In this context though, the simple action of highlighting things that you’re interested in has an implied friction. You have to have read the thing first to be able to highlight an element that has meaning for you. There’s no shortcut. The act of opening a page is not enough as it is with the frictionless sharing in some of the newspaper Facebook apps.

The second one is Instagram. For me it seems like a way to curate the world around you. To note down the moments in life where you spot something. It makes you see. It reminds me a lot of Tom Taylor and Tom Armitage’s lovely Noticings and in some of the things we tried to do with our game And I Saw… You’re not live streaming the world around you, you’re plucking visual ephemera and things which touch you and sharing it. As such it has a massive emotional resonance and feels like one of the most visceral ways of being present with distant friends.

The third is a new one and is the perfect antidote to the Facebook Spotify integration which takes more out of the party than it brings for me. This is my Jam allows you to share the one piece of music that is currently full of meaning for you.

“What’s your favorite song right now?

Not any old track, but THAT song; the one that’s on repeat, the one you can’t get out of your head today, the one worth shouting about.”

This comes back to my thoughts about the conversation you’d have with someone and on how you really have to role play social software to imagine how it feels for someone on the other end of it. Personally, I’d tell my friends what music I was obsessing about and I’d hope they’d do the same for me. This morning’s chat with Chris Wild shows me how true that is. The Spotify autoshare functionality is like my friends telling me in person the name of every track they’re playing, even the ones which play when they go off to make the tea. It’s the zenith of anti-social social software - no eye contact is ever made as the stream of non-conversation occurs. All it feels like to me is analytics for a person’s life.

Good things are always hard won and it strikes me that frictionless sharing is merely the easy way out. It’s the outcome of having enough compute units and a deep enough desire to amass data in the hope of understanding a person as a monetizable unit. Let’s make things harder and do better with those compute units and the pieces of life people choose to share. Make it more about curation and make the more complicated services that encourage people think about sharing and through doing that give them a meaningful and emotional connection to their friends.

Something I’m very proud of and honoured to be involved in launched yesterday. It’s a project called DACS Open. Its name harks back to events such as the Whitechapel Open which was an annual event which was renowned for supporting the local community of artists, many of who moved to East London because of the low rents for both housing and studio space. 

It’s important to mention money early on. Very few artists make work that command the enormous numbers often associated with the art world. Many artists struggle to be artists. Many have to teach and in the current cuts to education, teaching jobs are harder to find. Many work to public commission, but these are being reduced. Many make work thanks to the support of fellowships, however these are in decline. It’s not just the public sector in a recent essay at the start of their annual booklet Alan Christea talks about the challenging climate for commercial organisations too. The arts and artists are getting squeezed from every direction at the moment. It’s always the first thing to go, but definitely not the first thing to be missed.

DACS, the Design and Artists Copyright Society, has recently been studying artist’s wages. The results are shocking as the statement above shows. With the current financial climate and squeeze on funding for the Arts it’s hard to see it changing any time soon. The DACS Open project hopes to help this problem by working with artists on ways that they can engage audiences online and then hopefully find new funding models such as micro-philanthropy.

The whole process is a set of co-creation exercises where we explore with artists what is possible in terms of stitching together bits of technology and how they want to be in digital spaces. We’re looking with them for the places where they feel they they can be open without changing how they are as artists. We’re looking with them for tools which make their lives easier, places where everyday devices and software can be transformed into things that help them to concentrate on making work while at the same time helping them to take advantage of all of the opportunities that digital holds for engaging audiences. The co-creation is key. We’re two workshops in and I now know so much more about artists and in particular what it is to be one and the process of being one that the prototypes we’re making with them are very different to anything I’ve made before in direction. We’ll be sharing all that we do on the DACS Open blog and Twitter account, with videos on Vimeo and photos on Flickr. Please follow along, I’ve written my first diary entry about the first two weeks of workshops and making. 

For me personally there’s a strong reason to do this. It’s about giving back. The visual arts have been one of the greatest passions in my life. Visiting galleries and seeing art is one of my major pleasures in life but for a long while now I’ve wanted to find a way to say thank you for all the joy it brings. This is a small part of that thank you.

Mark Simpkins and I took a very different approach to the Honda Hackday to the ones that we both take both at hack days and in our working lives. We decided to make some art together. Mark’s talked a bit about it here. We jokingly called the movement the Algorithmicists. Both of us have wanted to explore how you make things to provoke thought and invite inquiry in the observer and have no utility or purpose apart from that. Mark has for a while talked about an organisation of unknown shape called This is Our Algorithm and this was a chance for us to try it on, to see how it felt and many thanks to Rewired State and Honda for allowing us to.

Mark talks very well about some of the thoughts and principles:

“All three pieces dealt with algorithms, code and control. They were as much about some strange desire we have to codify up our lives into possibly complex but ultimately meaningless algorithms, trying to reduce complexity to a point beyond understandable simplicity to end at a nihilistic pointlessness.

Reality is complex, understanding reality is hard.”

The first piece and physically the largest piece we made was called A Dream Within A Dream. It is an exploration both into influence and algorithmic scoring and also a piece to provoke that thought in the viewer. It’s partly inspired by this fabulous tweet from Chris Sacca.

I have some fairly strong views about Klout. I really don’t like it in so many ways. I can sympathise with people who feel there need to be some form indicator about the reputation of an account on Twitter (real person vs bot) but I feel really rather sad about things like Klout in many ways. They dehumanise networks in my opinion. One use case I often hear is about looking at how companies can avoid very public confrontations with people by understanding who the influencers are and then ensuring that they’re helped/offered special treatment/pacified. This feels like an own goal for a quasi-meritocratic society at best and a re-enactment of the rise of the 1% at worst. Giving free things to influencers feels like giving gift bags to people at Awards Ceremonies.

I also have strong views about black box ranking systems or ones where the walls are so opaque that an everyday user cannot begin to see what is going on in the system. I can imagine which tweet it was that made Klout for a long while think I was influential about Hugh Grant. However it’s really quite an outlier in my stream, although I sent another today. I’m not an expert statistician, but as a former research scientist I find it worrying that a large amount of faith is put into a metric which clearly in some cases amplifies aberrant signal over noise and pretends it’s a relevance. I’d love to know how they run controls in their system. How they test it against randomness. How the look for and guard against false positives. How they compare against standard texts and against nonsense tweets algorithmically created out of common word tables.

Our way of probing all of this was to create a fake dreaminess index. To show the futility of algorithmic scoring and how you can create an index about anything against anything. To show through parody that value only exists in creating a truly realistic index if that is what you feel you must do. To show this we set out to make the most pointless one we could.

The first point in our plan was in calling it a dreaminess index as shown in the parody image above from our presentation. What are we referring to as dreaminess? The second point is to think about what a dream is. Like influence, the word dream, has so many meanings and nuances - from the dreams you have at night to short term and long term aspirations, both personal and for the wider world.

The mechanism by which we went about creating the index was a further probe. Indexes need to be compared to things. The only way to measure things algorithmically is against some form of ideal, be it a standard or a derived standard. We decided to create an index of dreaminess based on pure lexicographical similarity to Edgar Allen Poe’s “A Dream Within A Dream”. I could argue, as pointlessly and as vigorously as I liked if I wanted to, about why I think that poem is the very ideal of a piece of writing about a dream. Without statistics, and all of the things we as scientists take for granted such as reproducibility and controls it and any index or scoring table is pointless. We’d like to thank Dom Hodgson who suggested our +D index should be called Doubt. Inspired.

The way we created the index is deliberately meaningless too. The scoring table is based purely on word frequency analysis of the poem. Things you’d normally stopword out are deliberately left in. The poem is our ideal of dreaminess and we’re futilely comparing how similar all the words including “a” and “I” in your tweets are to the poem. It’s deliberately wrong and pointless. The number of times the indefinite article are present in the tweet are doubly amplified, it’s both a high scoring and common word. It has all the wrong forms of bias.

We invited people to send in their dreams to us, we set up an account called GiveUsYourDream. The wording was deliberate - we would become the possessors of your dreams. You gave them freely, we have them now. When not enough people opted in we simply did what all other similar indexes would do, we just hoovered in tweets from a Twitter search for “dream” without asking people to opt in. This again is a deliberate response and provocation, and in addition it ensures that every dream gets at least a score of 5 for having the word “dream” in it. 

What we did next is to start making the physical side of the project, the visible part of the art work that people would see and engage with. We started writing down the dreams on blank pieces of paper chain. We wrote the tweet on the inside, so that it would be hidden partially from view. On the outside was the name of the person who had the dream and our +D score of their dream and, by inference, them. The reality, the sentiment, was barely visible when the chain was assembled; it was partially or largely obscured by the nature of the paper chain. The score and the name were dominant, just as it is on Klout. You’re boiled down to a score, the thing which you said is now a second class citizen. 

Part way through writing down the scraped tweets I came across this one and it stopped me cold. It made me think that actually anyone who does anything algorithmic should have to, as part of what they do, physically write down some of the data. You get a new emotional connection to it. It becomes real. And personal. It’s clear that someone typed it, just as clearly as you are having to laborioiusly write it. I wanted in a way to share a picture of what we’d done with this person, but then I felt I may spook them out. Instead I’ll look at this from time to time as almost a cautionary tale to anyone who may think about sentiment or influence mining. People write things with hopes, fears, feelings - read and use those things with respect for that.

We then set out to assemble. We’d originally considered going the whole height of the Guardian’s floors at Kings Place but the physicality of writing and making the chain meant that we could only manage the height of one floor in the time allotted, even though it was an inspiring and moving sight. A chain of semi obscured dreams. Independent dreams now interlinked. Dreams inextricably held within other dreams. Dreams within dreams. The whole piece was designed to be utterly self referential, the text selected as the source of the scoring table related to the physicality of how the tweets were displayed and gave the piece its name. It was moving to see it installed, hung on transparent nylon thread, running through the void of the stairwell and gently touching the floor. Rain Ashford took this picture of it, the best I’ve seen, as it disappears up into the illuminated stairwell. 

I miss it. It was something Mark and I talked about and schemed and thought about all weekend and it was there for a few hours and then it was gone (possibly to appear again we hope somewhere in Honda’s office in the UK). I do however have a feeling we’ll do more of these things. We spoke to many people afterwards who were really encouraging and said it had made them think about Klout and algorithmic scoring. We hope it makes you think about that to. 

Footnote/Full disclosure: After my post bemoaning things on a weekend, yes, the Honda hackday over the weekend. I was paid to be there.

I just received more details about the launch event for a competition to engage developers to make things for the much hyped Nokia Lumia 800. I love Nokia. I actually like Windows Phone 7. I had a play with a Lumia 800 when buying my iPhone 4S. It’s a lovely device and with the right apps it could possibly do well.

However, the event is on a Saturday, and it’s three hours long. Ten am till One pm. Silly day, silly time. Not just silly, a bit rude. I and many other developers have a life. Some have outside interests, some have girlfriends, some have wives, some have boyfriends, some have husbands, some have children. Three hours on a Saturday morning feels like a weird one. Maybe do a bit of market research rather than just assuming developers are a stereotype which doesn’t have a life at the weekend, as this is how your choice makes me feel.

I can almost predict the format. Some very exuberant marketing person or senior business figure will flounce on stage and list all of the features on the phone in excruciating detail. If you’re unlucky it will be preceded by TV slots, brand presentations and some sort of ghastly faux Jony Ive video about the design language (I’m a massive fan of Jony Ive, people aping him talking about design just annoy me). The details of the device will be excruciating as everyone already knows them. Engadget and everyone else scooped it months before your launch event which we also probably read the coverage for. I almost guarantee it’ll concentrate on consumer not developer features. Then a whole load of people will patronise about what a great opportunity the competition is while everyone in the audience sarcastically tweets about how it’s their applications that make the ecosystem. Then someone will tell you about the competition, the prize fund which is probably a lot less than the venue hire and the stage set cost and will have a small enough spread to make it barely worth entering. They’ll probably have a few presentations from people who had advanced access, but these people will only talk about the good things, it’ll feel fake. Telling the truth would be smarter but not on message. Someone may or may not tell you about the toolsets and the APIs, their presence in the whole thing will be so small as to almost feel apologetic. Expect no chance for Q and A.

Then there will probably be lots of milling around before the big palette of handsets arrives to be handed out. Expect queueing here. Lots of it. While you’re in the queue people may come and demo the phones. The demos will be by marketing people or hired in staff, sometimes inappropriately dressed models, rather than by developers or evangelists. Sometimes the phones will be their personal units with their data on it, often making you feel embarrassed at playing/viewing the device. Sometimes the demo units will be poorly charged. Asking for the developer tools will at best be responded to with a piece of paper with a web link on it. At worst with a suggestion to go and register on the developer site and download the tools. 

Sound familiar?

Doesn’t have to be this way. As Dan Williams just said “I am a developer not your cheap marketing tool”. These big glitzy launches serve just one community: the agency or department who report on bums on seats rather than engagement and provide places for the senior people to “get out among the people who make great stuff for us” (but then normally get swooshed off before you can chat to them). It’s a posh bun fight with no analytics about value or return on investment in apps which make the ecosystem great. Some day I’d love to see an analysis of how many competition apps actually end up being top grossing ones.

Here’s my suggestion and I’m saying it for free as I’ve had enough of this sort of event and I’d like a better one. Hire one of the many shops which are currently unused in our austerity highstreets, create a pop up developer shop somewhere near to where there are lots of developers and start ups. If you’re stuck, here’s a starting place map for London. Don’t spend a fortune on the decor, spend the money on putting people who know what they’re talking about in there. Possibly spend some of the budget on a good coffee machine or, if you want to pander to stereotypes, a big fridge full of Cuke. Invite people to come into the shop and allow them to book half hour to an hour slots, make sure you’ve got lots of staff at lunchtimes. Write down the things they ask about so you can improve your developer site and FAQs. Write sample code for the commonly found things. Give them a USB stick (hint: they’re very cheap) with the developer tools on it. If you must put all of your marketing videos, put it on the stick. Do not make it mandatory to watch the videos. Do not put the documentation or the tools installer in some form of multimedia presentation thingy which makes you sit through the marketing guff. 

If you’re going to do a competition make it one in which there can be lots and lots of winners of smaller prizes where the prize roughly to the loss of earnings in making the thing you’ve made. That way if it’s a paid app and you promote it, then the developer does really well, but everyone feels like they have a good chance. 

I’m betting this will cost the same or less as a fomulaic (despite what you think you’re doing with your crazy slightly leftfield idea) big glitzy marketing led launch.

Anyone want to give it a try with a new device? Then I’ll come and play. Until then, keep your free phone. Saturday with my family is worth more, and it’s your opportunity, not mine.

p.s. thank you to @iamtheprawn and @rainycat who made me go cold with embarrassment that my original version didn’t mention developers who have husbands and boyfriends. Hopefully those of you who know me realise this was just a slip up when writing a rant.

Mark Simpkins and I are collaborating on a project for Honda Hackday. It’s all about dreams and algorithmically scoring them, in the loosest of senses, and then doing something physical with them where we write them out on paper and then do something with that. I won’t give it all away now. 

If you’d like to be involved, and we’d love you to, please just tweet your dream to @GiveUsYourDream. 

A few short days ago Dan Roberts and the rest of The Guardian team did something really rather extraordinary and yet really rather simple - they opened up the news lists as Google Docs. It was extraordinary for two reasons for me. Firstly the news lists are a prized asset; less scrupulous newspapers have bribed people at competitors to see them. One way of viewing the move is that opening them up is in many ways a tacit admission that the speed of transmission of news has now reached a point where openness outweighs commercial advantage and secrecy. Advertising what you’re working on builds suspense and anticipation. The alternate way of viewing it is that it’s part of inviting the readership in; making them a part of the newspaper - mutualising the relationship and utilising the knowledge out there to improve the story.  This is something that I’ve seen friends on the technology team (Charles Arthur and Jemima Kiss) do to great effect.

The second extraordinary thing and the beautifully simple thing was how they released it: Google Docs. Simple and democratic at the least, full of data and empowering of experimentation at best. I was very interested. Having worked on Open Platform from the start I was excited to see a new form of data emerging for me to remix and alchemise. 

Initially I thought my evening’s play after they released it would be to make a little JSON feed to play with. Isn’t that what every developer does when they see some data in a Google spreadsheet that interests them nowadays? Then I discovered that Dan Catt had done that, which was the most lovely discovery and allowed me to play a bit further into the opportunities that much quicker. (You can read Dan’s excellent discourse about the newslists and JSON and the thing I made, The Later On Today Guardian, and small pieces loosely joined here).

What interested me first about the news lists was that there were two phases to them with the publication of the story being the phase boundary. You could “help” to inform the story before it was published and then you could “read” the story afterwards. This informed part of the design of The Later On Today Guardian which is very much an ugly version 0.1 thing. In the “help” phase, Twitter’s rather excellent Web Intents allow you to tweet the journalists with a prepopulated hashtag. One elegant addition would be to give each story a unique hashtag, akin to a machine tag, right from inception. This would allow for easier collation at a later stage of the process, scooping together the news list, the information from readers that helped to form the story and the story itself in to a capsule of process journalism.

The second thing which interested me was the fact that the newslist was itself a capsule; akin to the bundles of stories in a physical newspaper (well it sort of is the digital manifestation of the promise of a newspaper). I and many others have been long interested in the finishability and serendipitous nature of the curated bundle within newspapers. We’ve even some of us tried to make them anew. This felt like a new way to highlight the curation of news and to give you a chance to finish the news stories that editors felt were important during the day. Something that is now being rather well and rather beautifully and with deft human intervention in the new Guardian iPad app.

The progress bar isn’t there for some crazy gamification thing, it’s more of an ambient readout of how far through the news day they - the journalists - might be (the matching is currently imperfect and misses stories and has the occasional false positive). It also gives you an idea from visit to visit as to whether there is anything new for you to look at. You can remember a percentage complete (roughly) or the position of a bar far easier than you can remember everything you’ve seen on a page.

I’m enjoying looking at it occasionally, I have yet to make the columns work really nicely on a tablet device or on Google TV (and the webfonts break on Google TV), but there is something interesting about something which jogs your peripheral vision about news things. Something like these things below which atomise news and curate temporally in a persistence of vision type way, but that’s a post for another time.

So last week something quite monumental happened. Many digital people, myself included were invited to Buckingham Palace. I say myself included at the start not from wanting to big myself up, but because last time someone wrote a blogpost like this, the excellent post by Bobbie Johnson, someone said that it was sour grapes about not being part of the in crowd. Knowing Bobbie I can’t think of anything further from the truth. In the spirit of transparency, here’s the invite. I’ll forgive them for now for one thing, getting my title wrong, there are other things I can’t forgive.

When emailed the invitation I accepted, when the physical invitation arrived I decided not to go. I really felt uncomfortable about the host. My feeling about his burgeoning relationship with London’s startup scene is that he is looking for a new meaning in the fallout from his downgraded role as a special trade representative a result of some dubious dealings while acting as a representative of the country.

It would have been interesting to see my fellow digital people in lounge suits. Amusing but not necessarily comfortable. It’s not really how the sector is. I know it’s politic to dress up for events, such as this picture below, but it just feels like the first step onto a slippery slope.

The slippery slope I refer to is about losing sight about what makes us us. The night before a few people over dinner were talking about us being the new establishment. If in becoming the new establishment we become the old establishment, modelled anew a bit, more digital but not much else, then we’ve done a massive disservice to generations of digital people behind us. We don’t need to change ourselves to become more like the people we often feel are corrupt or doing the wrong or inappropriate thing.

Anyone who hasn’t already read Ben Hammersley’s excellent speech to the IAAC should read it now. Anyone who has read it before should read it again before they jump on a digital duke bandwagon. Ben’s speech and being a mentor at Young Rewired State say three things to me.

1. We’re becoming the new establishment just by being ourselves, through being intelligent and through the simple truth that everything digital touches is being transformed.

2. We’re a transitional generation. Born of an analogue world. As Ben says “ third-digital-native, third-pathfinder. And … also third-establishment”. As such we need to be mindful of the decisions we make, not just for ourselves but for those who come afterwards. We’re stewards.

3. Our role is really to move aside the old establishment were we can, not to replace them wholesale with all of their tendencies and fallibilities. We, the people who rail against the hyperconsumptive business mechanics of the broadcast era and the 21st century, mustn’t become the new dinosaurs.

I wanted to remind people of something written in what, for a now secular humanist building, is the closest thing to a geek church we have in London; Conway Hall. Who has not sat in pews at Conway Hall and listened to and debated the dogma of digital either at Interesting, Playful and The Story.

To Thine Own Self Be True

I pondered this a lot at Playful. The sun hit it in almost a road to Damascus style way. I’d felt sad the night before as I saw friends heading to the palace, delivered through the media of Twitter, Instagram and Foursquare - the new broadcasters - that I wasn’t going there with my friends. As I stared at those words in Conway Hall surrounded by those same friends I knew I’d made the right choice for me. I’m not judging them at all, part of me wishes still that I’d gone. This is my personal view.

On my way from Conway Hall to see another friend after Playful I passed by the Occupy London Stock Exchange camp. Agree with them, disagree with them, it’s up to you. When The Telegraph writes an article with this title you know that something is amiss and the old establishment is despised.

As I walked away from the camp I walked past many stereotypical city workers, in suits, smoking cigars, the epitome of excessive consumption. I felt deeply that I’d hate the world in which my friends had not displaced them but replaced them in every way. I’d like to think we have a strong enough moral compass to not go that way, but I fear that the system is grasping out at a time of crisis. It realises the power is shifting in some ways, not yet in the companies that broker power and wealth, but in the companies that have relevance in the near future. 

I’d swap any number of evenings at the palace to spend a day in the company of my friends at Conway Hall and see wonderful things like the fabulous self-effacing Swede Emil Ovemar nervously giggling among the balloons while Toby Barnes haphazardly sorts out the next very clever presentation. 

Call me naive or sentimental if you like. I just think we can do better and I hope to fuck we don’t become a new “old establishment”. Our kids will hate us and they and we deserve us to make a better world and system. We need to fight for it and not to settle for the path well trodden or take short cuts that will lead us astray.

I’ll leave you to think over Matt Locke’s wise words below. I’m not trying to appropriate his sentiment on this matter. I personally don’t know how he feels about the palace. I just know how I feel reading this: empowered. 

Today my 20 month old son delivered the perfect epitaph to Steve Jobs. He closed my laptop. Humanity over technology. You’re right Tom. Steve was right too on that.

When we started the Activate Summit at The Guardian it was designed to be all about the people who do, not the people who talk. The people who do the hard thing and ship, not just talk about it. The summit also had to be about the magical place where the technology disappears and you’re just left with what it brings to the user. This is how I’ve thought about Apple devices for a long while now. They’re different.

I first encountered a Mac half way through my Chemistry degree. I was on my industrial placement at SmithKline and French, lucky enough to work with some of the people who’d pioneered Computer Aided Drug Design and had made Tagamet, the anti-ulcer drug. They were people who thought differently. I was hooked. Everywhere around were VT220s, VT420s and the occasional IBM PS1/PS2. It was a VAX world. This was a Mac Classic. Small, tiny screen, perfectly formed. Brilliant. Sadly I was a student, I couldn’t afford one. But I got to play with a Silicon Graphics and a beautiful Evans and Sutherland Picture System so that was cool.

The machine for some reason I always wanted was a Color Classic. They were the real icons for me. Still would love one.

I owned my first Mac part way through my PhD. It was a PowerBook 100. It revolutionised how I wrote and what I did and helped me to think more graphically. It inspired me so much in my research and writing. As I came closer to submitting my thesis I took it everywhere; I clung onto it. It held my world. I was even holding it while in a queue to have Michael Nyman sign a CD. He signed my PowerBook and talked about having one himself and how he couldn’t be without it. After several years (3) the PowerBook 100 had a bad experience falling onto the floor as I tripped and fell off a train. It still boots up behind a cracked screen. I bought a PowerBook 190 and on the commute between Chichester and London I finished writing the first website for the Cass Sculpture Foundation in 1996 that I’d started on the 100 while I was working on the Which Online project for Webmedia. Again the 190 still boots up. Different. 

Then there were the Sculley years, the years of beige. Not the best, but the machines were still the best to use from a software perspective. I never stopped buying them though, they were somehow better. They got better after Jobs returned and focussed the line up. I had tricked out G3 machine on which I did the video montages that were used as part of the proposal to get planning permission to put sculpture on the FourthPlinth in Trafalgar Square. Videos that made it onto Channel4 and BBC Breakfast news. I’d never really done much video stuff or photomontages before, but somehow the Mac made it easy to do these things. 

I remember where I was when the iMac appeared. I was sitting in NoHo Digital on Regent Street. It was amazing. Not just in the way that Steve often said amazing, but truly amazing. It was a computer that looked like it could be part of a home, part of the family. The post-PC era started there in that teardrop shaped blue and white thing for me. I still have my iMacDV SE, the see through smokey grey one where you can see deep into the workings. It still works just fine. I occasionally still play with it. The slight curvature of the screen now seems so strange, so fascinating, so retro.

Then came the G5. I was lucky enough to be sitting in the audience at WWDC for the keynote when it was announced. I was working on PeoplesArchive, we were building a video on demand archive for the life stories of great scientists. I’d been working closely with some of the QuickTime team at Apple. We were doing some interesting stuff around how you made subscriptions to video services. We also built a production system out of iMovie and using AppleScript to break up videos using chapter markers automatically. It was a large scale edit system for humans who’d never used computers much before. I was hugely touched when they wrote a Pro story about Peoples Archive, more touched when I was flown out to Paris for the MacWorld and my second Stevenote of the year. In between the two events the new G5 had revolutionised our production of an enormous amount of video. The sheer horespower was amazing. 

It was in Paris that I was the closest physically to Steve Jobs in my life. I got to meet Phil Schiller and talk to him about what we were doing. While standing outside one of the bars at the Musee D’Orsay where the party was Steve walked up to the door of the bar. This is where I saw the lovely humility I’ve heard about him in action. The doorman told him that bar was over capacity, but there was another one a floor down. He thanked them very politely, smiled and walked to go there, carrying on his conversation with the person he was with. No drama, no fuss, no diva like behaviour. Everyone has a Steve story about his attention to detail and his passion and dictatorial nature. From my perspective that evening he was an inspiration in being humble.

And now we’re in the post-PC era. I have some of the best computers I’ve ever had in terms of design and usability. I can’t see how they can build a better screen than the 27” iMac and how they can make a better laptop than the 11” MacBook Air. Either ends of the spectrum. I also have an iPhone and iPads. I’ve made software for them too, something I’ve never done for a PC apart from in the days of CD-ROM. It never appealed that much before, but the iPad made me want to make something other than a website. They’re inclusive devices. Computers for people who don’t want a computer. They’ve enabled some amazing applications to come into being and they’ve altered the world of interaction forever. My boys swipe things now, not peck them.  

I remembered very clearly him saying these words. It was at the iPad2 launch. I was finishing off the coding on Artfinder’s iPad framework. It felt so right. The first time I saw the iPad it made me think of coffee table art books. Now we could make them. There are now over 20 Artfinder iPad apps in the App Store. Most of the time the thinking was about getting the interface out of the way of the art and out of the way of the device.

As I’ve thought more and more about these words they’ve become a mantra. I’ve pondered them more and more since then, often every day. They became more poignant when he stepped down from Apple. They became a lot more poignant today. I wrote the words below into my script for my talk at Shropshire Geek Night to accompany the slide above. I wanted to make sure I said what I really wanted to say when I was likely to be emotional; he’d just stepped down from Apple and we all sadly knew why.

“We should hang onto this phrase as closely and as tangibly as we physically hang onto our shiny Apple gadgets. It’s the touchstone for why we should always try harder to make better things. This is the greatest legacy and the greatest inspiration. We have to make technology human, and to ensure that the things we make fix real needs and problems and have a soul. Most importantly we need to make things so good that we love using them and the technology melts away and the impact is all that’s left.”

We’re in the post-PC era now. It’s all about user centricity, the technology being subservient to the user, the things we make being about their needs, even before thy can articulate them. That is the most incredible legacy for him. We can’t squander that. Ship more things that are bent around the needs and desires of the people who use them. If you don’t, you’re doing it wrong, and you’re doing his memory a disservice.

I like many others watched bits of the F8 keynote the other day. Just as with the unveiling of the Like button over a year ago I watched and I worried a little.

To me the Like button is a human powered web crawler. Most crawlers index the known web. When pressed, the Like button indexes the declaratively important web. Some may say that it indexes the visited web because the Like button is an IFRAME and even if logged out some of the data in Facebook’s cookies are available for tracking purposes. At best it has a shaped graph of how often a page is visited, something which could be used for filtering or ranking search. At worst from a privacy perspective it has propensities of liking, both for the content and for the user.

The new move into bringing media into apps and a walled garden takes this a stage further. Leaving aside whether walled gardens are a smart or dim move for now there’s one bit of user interaction/integration I’ve never seen before which is real time scrobbling of text content. Last.fm’s scrobbler at least waits until you’re part the way through a track before recording your play of it. This gives you time to discard it, to try new bits of music on privately before declaring your interest in them. 

Text is harder. Sure you could see if people scroll down the page as a measure of engagement. Simply at the moment they click it to say they’ve read it implies a meaning that isn’t there. Everything in the graph is based on verbs. To me the right verb is “opened” or “clicked”, maybe “viewed”; “reading” is a very different action more purposeful, more intentional, more emotional.

I think it’ll shape user behaviour and engagement with content more than it will alter people’s knowledge of how to change privacy settings. You may see something which you don’t necessarily agree with or know would be uncomfortable for your friends, and rather than go amend privacy settings to see it privately you’ll just not look at it.

All this real time scrobbling content will do, in my opinion, is to channel some people further into apparently safe monocultures and reduce the impact of content which could diversify their views. Or they’ll hopefully just walk out of the gates of the walled garden and read it elsewhere. It’s the beginning of the end for one or other thing. Time will tell.