The Single-Breath Test (Suzanne Forster)

I just read an article by John Maeda, an MIT professor of computer science, who swears that he, too, is overwhelmed by all the bells and whistles of today’s technology. I can’t tell you how much better that made me feel. Not only am I not the only one, I’m in pretty good company.

I’ve blogged about some of my technology woes, such as my Vaio laptop taking pictures of me without my knowledge or permission. (I apparently fell asleep at the keyboard and hit the Capture button.) This is the same computer that sends my emails before I can get them written. If only it would write them for me! But that’s kid stuff compared to what happened to my voice mail system a couple weeks ago. It literally vanished into thin air, taking all of my saved messages with it. For several days, people thought they were leaving me messages, but they were talking into a void—and this while I was traveling and relying totally on the cell phone for both personal and business calls.

The customer service person I spoke with had no clue what had happened and neither did the tech support person, although he promised they would send it to their Fix-It Team. For all I know that could have been a magician with a hat and a rabbit. Ringing in my ears was the bad news that the messages couldn’t be retrieved, and I would have to set up a new voice mail system. I set up the system, but still haven’t recorded my welcome message. That’ll show ‘em.

Are you ready for the good news? Apparently the Fix-It Team has been busy because now the system is saving calls for me, whether I want them or not. I have no idea how it’s choosing which calls to save, but there were twenty and counting last time I checked. Oh, joy.

In another example of technology run amuck, Allan recently removed a beloved virus program that he’d been updating and upgrading for many years. He said it was causing his computer to run at the speed of a glacier. He and I both have AOL, but he’s never trusted their security, so he went for some extra protection. Me, what do I know about computer security? I took what came with the machine. When I asked him why he’d decided to part with the program, he pointed out that I’d had no viruses, and my computer ran light years faster. Hey, I did something right. He also allowed that less might be more where computers are concerned.

Actually, that’s the MIT professor’s point. In the article, Maeda says that “hi-tech gadgets should make life easier, not more complicated.” That seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it? But exactly the opposite is happening. New technology is getting more complicated—and the professor claims it’s our fault. Us, the American consumer. He says we can’t resist a bargain, and I think he may have a point. Most of us want all the bang we can get for our buck. Why else did I buy a Sony laptop with a camera and a video recorder that I’ve never used, except by accident.

He points out how much easier a simple a pocket knife is to operate than a Swiss Army Knife, but we go for the latter, even though the odds are we’ll never use all the extra stuff. And it’s the same with cell phones. He claims that instead of “buying a simple cell phone, we eagerly purchase the deluxe model that comes with a camera, calendar, clock, digital music player and date book. We buy features we don’t need for the ‘just in case’ scenario that almost never happens, then spend a great deal of time stumbling over those extra features to get to the ones we really want.”

Professor Maeda’s had his own embarrassing problems with hi-tech gadgetry, including his cell phone. It seems he thought he’d turned off the ringer for an important meeting when mid-way through the speaker’s talk, his phone erupted. Everyone turned to look at him as if he’d done it on purpose—because he couldn’t be dumb enough not to know how to turn off the ringer, right? Hey, I’m still trying to find the section in my cell phone manual on ringers. My ringer’s gone off every place you could imagine, and a few you probably couldn’t. I now take no chances and turn off the phone altogether, which pretty much negates the purpose for which I bought it—emergency calls. Sheesh.

Maeda’s article, entitled “How To Keep It Simple” can be found in the November 19th issue of Parade. I thought his guidelines for the technologically challenged, which seems to be most of us, were nothing short of brilliant, and I’ll share one here that’s particularly relevant:

“Administer the single-breath test. If the sales clerk can’t explain how to use a gadget in a single breath, it’s probably too complicated. Say ‘thank you’ and walk away—you’ll save yourself a lot of misery down the road.”

The single-breath test. What a concept. It’s so zen you could almost meditate on it. I don’t see why it couldn’t be expanded into a general rule of thumb for living, and maybe even for novel-writing. If the hero can’t express his desire for the heroine in a single breath, it’s probably too complicated. As in actions speak louder than words? As in shut up and kiss me, you little fool? Mm, I like that. But maybe the best example of single-breath communication was Bacall’s legendary line to Bogie: “You know how to whistle, don’t you? Just put your lips together and blow.”

Suz