July 2009 Archives

Let's call this "Coca-Cola Economics" (CCE for short).  For me, this line of thinking ties directly back to the DNA of the Old Economy: the blockbuster, hit making, top 40, the superstar.  I believe it's all but antithetical to the DNA of the New Economy: the conceptual age / long tail, deep and vertical, featureful, open source, economy of free.

Is popularity... bad?  Certainly not, but cool should always trump popular and act as your guide though the inspirations toward mediocrity that popularity injects.  In America at least, popular almost always equates to poor quality, bad taste, gratuitous execution.  From McDonalds to the Joanas Brothers, this kind of CCE-based bullshit exists not because of organic demand or genuine cool factor, but because of a researched, manufactured, and carefully engineered demand, a primary tool of the Old Economy.  CCE's ability to engineer demand depends, sadly, on an uneducated, undiscerning audience which is why Kentucky Friend Chicken can only garner an ironic appreciation in say, Japan, while it basks in genuine appreciation here in the states.

This is all to say that, in the New Economy, Cool has a better chance of success and longevity, and yes even making money than Popular does.  On the Web, where communication is fast, knowledge easy, education and taste-making are effectively side effects of every blog entry and every twitter exchange.  Bullshit can't survive, and critical mass means the beginning of the end.  What happens to Facebook's cool factor when your mother and father have accounts?  What happened to MySpace when Murdoch bought it?  What happens when you try to apply Old Economy thinking to the New Economy?  

Thankfully for all of us who love the Web, failure happens.

I either love or not. I don't find a problem with hate because I don't see it as the opposite. For example, if you ever get to look at my Yelp reviews it's either max stars on one. The movies I'd run to go see are the ones with the best and worst review at the same time. Basically, I don't find the middle interesting.

So when I say I hate Virgin America I mean that in the best way. I do. I don't think they should stop doing business. I merely mean that I had an experience which I find frustrating. Which I will never forget.

Tap screens. Right behind my head. My head is what tries to sleep. Until last, I've only flown short distances. Last week I flew direct to New York City. I only fly direct flights. I looked forward to sleeping. Tap - tap - tap, on the way there. Tap - tap - tap, on the way back.

I have a theory on decibels. Have you known someone who gets really frustrated when trying to sleep and the neighbors next door are playing the television or stereo too loud? I try to tell them that it's not about decibels. That I've seen them fall asleep with their own television or stereo on, in noisier places. I explain that what really frustrates them in that scenario is the 'how dare they invade my space'. The decibel coming through the wall isn't nearly loud enough to keep anyone awake. But the 'how dare they' factor is. In truth, if they knew their neighbor, or if they were invited to that party coming through the wall, it wouldn't even cross their mind. And they would sleep like baby.

So what was it about Virgin America that made the tapping behind my head bother me so much? Well, it isn't decibels. Try it, even with the highest spirits it isn't as easy to ignore. Weren't there similar water tortures from wars to this effect? As a designer, I also saw right through it. Clearly it was bad design. The fact that the tap interface had a redundant remote hard button menu on the armrest tells me they realized this already. Yet, they've stuck with the touch screen. And people don't favor using the remote cause it is trapped in a hole inside the shared arm rest. 

I tried, I really did. I closed my eyes and counted sheep - so to speak. Tap - tap - tap. I think the kid behind me was playing a game on the screen. It required a lot of tapping. And since the tap screen had to be cheap enough to have on every seat, I suspect it isn't as sensitive as it can be. So one has to tap harder. Harder if the first didn't go!

On the way to NYC I took the redeye. On the way back I took a day flight. I learned my lesson. And sure enough there it was again. Tap - tap - tap. 

Why didn't I turn around and say anything? Because I knew that the kid wasn't tapping any harder than what was required of him. I tested it myself and I couldn't avoid poking at the seat in front of me. I knew that the designer was to blame for this. And as a designer, I had to eat it. 

I was reading Malcolm Gladwell's piece here in the New Yorker and got glassy eyed over to this idea instead.

Personally, I like having certain tweets sent directly to my phone as text messages. I pay for unlimited SMS cause I like this way of messaging. Now let's say I'm someone who's really into history. I see plays and read books about historical events, which is great, but how about a new way to consume in this new medium a lot of us find ourselves immersed in today?

I am imagining an experience where I can subscribe to the twitter feed of, let's say, Lawrence of Arabia during the time when he led the revolt against the Ottoman Army. In real-time accuracy, only decades back, I receive play by play tweets from T.E. himself as the days passed trekking across the desert.

This way of storytelling is only possible today, where wherever we go we carry a device which we don't mind interrupting us from time to time.

The next step past this is mixed media where the play by play comes at you beyond one single channel. But that's another idea and it's too early to get into that.