DARIEN GRAHAM-SMITH
Software designers’ continual tweaking is surely causing more problems than it’s solving
Updates are supposed to stymie viruses, not us users.
I had started to fear that I was succumbing to mental decline. Whenever I picked up my phone, a sense of uncertainty hung over me. I felt as if I couldn’t quite remember how to use features and apps that should have been wholly familiar. I hunted high and low for buttons I’d used a hundred times. I found myself tapping in the wrong place on the screen, for reasons I couldn’t quite explain.
Having compared notes with friends and colleagues, I realise that it’s not me. The problem is that the apps themselves keep changing. You learn and internalise how something works, then an update comes along, and the next time you open it, it’s subtly different. Over time, a general sense of disorientation sets in.
For better or worse, I’ve accepted that automatic updates are a fact of 21st-century life. There was a time when I would have insisted on studying the release notes for every update that came my way, and familiarising myself with any changes before deciding whether or not to install it. But who could possibly do that these days? We use too many apps and online services to keep pace with them all.
And while it’s nice to imagine that I might thoughtfully set aside any pending updates until some quiet period when I do have time to properly review them – the postChristmas lull is looking good right now – that’s a risky approach. The WannaCry ransomware attack in May ( see p36) spread via a vulnerability for which a fix had already been published. Similarly, the NSA hacking exploits leaked in April had already been patched. Embracing the endless cycle of updates is probably a lot less disruptive than the alternative.
Still, there’s a difference between the updates that close off obscure back doors and those that turn the user experience upside-down. Accepting one shouldn’t mean always accepting the other. To its credit, Microsoft clearly differentiates between security fixes and feature updates. Alas, the same can’t be said for mobile apps. Nor do such fine distinctions apply when it comes to online, browser-based services. A few months ago, I revisited the Chromebook concept, and came away impressed – but for anyone who values a stable platform, a cloud-based workflow could be a disaster. When your apps are running on someone else’s server, they’re liable to change without warning.
Indeed, the biggest providers of cloud services can be the most cavalier about consistency. I swear that every single time I open Google Maps the interface is different. Likewise YouTube – and don’t get me started on Hangouts, which seems to be in such constant flux that I won’t be surprised if sooner or later it turns into a fully-featured accounting app.
It’s a small consolation to know that the worst offenders are also the worst afflicted. I hear through the grapevine that Google employees get their phones automatically seeded with all the latest internal builds of in-house apps, as well as the public releases. If it’s frustrating having to deal with apps that are never quite the same twice, imagine being bombarded with pre-release versions that quite likely contain bugs and experimental features.
For my part, I’m lucky; all of this has little impact on my professional life. As a writer and editor, I can get by with an extremely basic set of tools if need be. Push come to shove, I can do my entire job in Notepad.
But for businesses that rely on specific technologies, a constantly changing toolset is not a good thing. Back in the days when I worked in a corporate IT department, the standard, supported platforms and applications were commonly years behind the latest releases. This wasn’t because we were lazy (although we were), but simply because these versions were known and understood by both support staff and employees alike. Moving to new versions was a carefully managed process, involving extensive testing and training.
So much for the 20th-century way of doing things. The modern business, we’re told, benefits from a much more agile, ad hoc relationship with technology. In practice, that tends to mean Rob the intern running critical functions using free apps on his iPad. Let’s leave aside for now all the obvious red flags concerning security, support, service levels and business continuity. The fact is, our Rob is only human. When the user experience keeps changing, in subtle and unpredictable ways, it’s inevitable that sooner or later he’ll make a mistake. Who’ll take responsibility, I wonder?
If this all sounds exaggerated, I should be clear. It’s rare that a major interface change comes along that really knocks me for six. Yet the small things add up. There was a time when I could sit down at my computer and feel confidently in command, like a captain at his bridge. I knew where everything was, and how it worked. Today, my relationship with technology is different. It’s likely that most of what I knew yesterday will still apply, but the confidence is gone. I know which mental state was better for my productivity, and my general happiness.
It’s very easy to stamp one’s feet and demand that “something must be done”. Harder, I know, for others to actually do that something. But I’d be delighted if some developer reading this were inspired to hold off on an unnecessary interface change – or, at worst, clearly flag up a necessary one. In a volatile world, we need all the certainty we can get.