My weekend with the iPad.
My title is tongue-in-cheek but like most humor there's a lot of truth, or wishful thinking, behind it. By know most of you know I'm a runner and I do my long run for the week on Sunday. After which I like to take a nice hot soak while enjoying a scotch and a book. The iPad, or any lifestyle device, that I could use in the tub would be an instant winner with me. Now onto the weekend.
To begin with, I agree with NY Times tech writer David Pogue who asserts the iPad is it's own device and should not be compared with a cell phone, netbook, or laptop. If a phone or mobile computer is what you need than buy that. The iPad is different. If the iPad was meant to be the hybrid of your phone and your computer it's a tremendous failure. It can't make calls and it doesn't work like a notebook. But that's not what it's for. I see it as more of a lifestyle device that I would have in addition to those other things.
I also approached my weekend with the iPad from the perspective of Marshall McLuhan who correctly, in my opinion, claimed way back in the 1960s that the medium is the message and if we want to understand things on a cultural level that's where we should be looking. I was curious to see how the iPad could extend my interactions with the environment or alter my perceptions of reality. I wasn't so concerned with what it did compared to other devices, e.g. what bells & whistles it had, what cool apps., etc. I was really focused on the device and how the device shaped the content and my understanding and interactions with it. This was the framework on which I approached our weekend together.
For the Fanboys I should begin by commenting on observations from several colleagues who had the iPad in their hands before me. The first was an observation that using the iPad in class or meetings, etc., is better than say a laptop or netbook because there is no screen between participants. That this somehow removes a barrier giving the feeling of being more present. I would argue that this assertion is misguided and irrelevant. Any device in a meeting or in a classroom requires split-attention. To say you're attention was somehow less split is not accurate. Using any device in these settings requires one to divide their focus, whether it's looking at a screen in front of you or down toward the table.
Instead, I acknowledge the distraction and further argue that it can be leveraged into something productive. If I'm an instructor, rather than ban any device from my classroom or surrender to the notion that no one is listening because they're all on Facebook, I would explore how these devices can actually be used to foster learning, including during class. The Fanboys, by making the argument that a device that doesn't put a screen between you and the other participants makes you feel more present are actually arguing the other, anti-device in these settings, side.
I've seen other comments that people would or did buy the iPad in part because the price was comparable to an iPhone. To which I reply, So? Would you compare the price of a motorcycle to a car? Why? They are essentially different modes of transportation with some overlap in use. A more apt comparison would be to compare the price, aesthetics, and performance of the iPad to similar devices, such as the HP Slate when it comes out.
For the Haters who love to howl about the iPad being a large iPhone that can't make calls I would say you are missing the point. It's not an iPhone. If you need a phone compare phones. Another argument they like to make concerns the shortcomings of a first generation product. Again missing the point. If the iPad is truly the first product representation of a new media, one that captures the public's imagination, these issues will be worked out over time. Did folks give up on television when it first came out because of all its inherent faults? Maybe some did but, as a culture certainly not. And look at where we are now.
The best observation I saw regarding the iPad was a colleagues comment that they wished they could fold it in half and carry it in their back pocket. Exactly. I can't wait for these devices to become more of a natural fit inline with how we do things. Then we have a media that's a game changer.
The second best observation I saw was by a colleague who tweeted about using the iPad to read the Sunday paper on his porch. That is a signal that a device like this can influence how I interact with the world. I can certainly see myself reading many things, including newspapers and magazines in this way. Which leads me to where I think the media can take us.
Extending Reality and Altering Perceptions Two things really struck me about the iPad during my time with it over the weekend. The first was how it extended my activity in reality. The touch screen feels like an natural extension of myself. Much like my coffee cup it's just there for me to pick up when I want it. It's also tactile in a way humans like to be tactile. You can do a tremendous amount of things with just the tips of your fingers without typing. This is a huge paradigm shift that can't be stressed enough: the removal of the need for a keyboard to interact is a major step toward making any device become more of a natural extension of the self.
The second thing I noticed was how the device changed my perception of connecting. The web was no longer a 2-step destination where you first had to get on the web to get where you want to go. Now with the touch of your finger you can go directly where you want. I found myself thinking less about web pages and urls and more about specific places to go, places within places.
Both of these innovations are in their infancy and therefore still require some old time typing and knowing addresses but this is the beginning of the end of that need. Soon with a touch we'll be there, wherever that there happens to be.
Which brings me to the main limitation of the iPad in its current format: the need for a keyboard at all. I know it's a necessary evil for now but I can envision a time when voice and touch, and perhaps even sight and sound, will eliminate the need for typing at all.
A second limitation lies in connectivity and responsiveness. There were times when my fingers were moving faster that the iPad causing a disconnect by interrupting the flow of interaction. Part of this may have been due to the WIFI connection and part may be due to the processor, I'm no sure. But if this media catches on these issues will be resolved.
Up Next for Me and the Ipad is that now that I'm looking at the device as a potential new media I feel liberated enough to look at it's potential. The hardest part is to get beyond comparing it to things that already exist. We need to create a new model of understanding. Much like television was different from the movies which were different from live performance which were different from the written word, The iPad is the first foray into a potential new media and that is how it should be explored. Instead of comparing it to a cellphone or a laptop we should be exploring its potential for new ways of meaning-making. Does it alter our perception of reality? Does it enhance our interaction with the environment? Those are the question that will determine its value.
There are two programs on the History Channel that I really wanted to like. They are Pawn Stars and American Pickers. For the unfamiliar, Pawn Stars is about the family run Pawn Shop in Las Vegas and American Pickers is about two guys from Iowa who travel the mid-west looking for trash that they can turn into treasure.
I was interested in both shows for the same reason I dig Antiques Road Show. I wanted to see what hidden gems were unearthed, whether of historical, cultural, personal, or political in value. But unlike Antiques Road Show, I ended up hating Pawn Stars and American Pickers. Here's why: I cannot identify with the lead players in the show.
At their heart both Stars and Pickers are about maximizing the benefit that can be extracted from someone else in a less fortunate situation. In Pawn Stars people are selling things out of a need for cash and the goal of the family running the shop is to pay as little as possible, most certainly under the true worth of the item, in order to maximize the profit on re-sale. I'm not against making a profit. What I find unsavory is the callous attitude demonstrated toward the seller. Generally speaking, you're not selling items of value at a Pawn Shop from a position of strength. And I guess I don't care for the way the shop owners leverage this weakness in order to maximize their gain.
The guys in American Pickers operate on much the same principle but, in lieu of taking advantage of a person in a weaker financial situation they seem to ply their trade off of the ignorance of others. What is so compelling about sifting through someone's belongings and offering them $50 for a bicycle you know is worth at least five times that? I'm making that example up but that is the premise of the show.
Maybe it's because I identify more with those being taken advantage of that I loathe these shows as much as I do. I'm more likely to be in or know someone in their position than I am the supposed protagonists of these shows. What appeals tome about the Road Show, which is essentially the same plot line, is that I'm rooting for the people who bring their stuff to be appraised and I get the sense that those who work on the show are as well. There's a sense that we're all in it together on the Road Show that I do not find in Stars or Pickers. In those shows there are winners and losers in a game whose outcome is known before it begins and that turns me off.
So what does running have in common with Balinese cockfighting? Quite a lot really.
For my dissertation I've been re-reading Clifford Geertz's seminal book on ethnography, The Interpretation of Cultures. The end of the book contains Geertz's notes on the Balinese cockfights he witnessed back in the 1970s and the deeper meaning these events had for the people involved. It got me to thinking about the deeper meaning behind why people like myself feel compelled to run like, and as much as we do.
Like myself, and those I count to be part of my personal running community, the rosters are common. We are not elite athletes born with a certain genetic gift that makes us fortunate enough to make a living doing an activity we love. The Balinese select their roosters from common markets and do not breed for pedigree. We, like the roosters, are what we are. Simple working class stock. We work with what we have in order to maximize performance.
For the Balinese men their rooster is an idealized extension of the self. An opportunity to boil down the complexities of life into a moment that can be understood. They imbue into their cock (metaphoric pun intended) what they see as the best of themselves but, as in any great mythological tragedy, what also gets transferred is their darkest fears and fatal flaws, which make the stakes of the fight all the more meaningful. For runners our running serves that purpose. For all its complex machinations life is at its most basic is a struggle for survival overlaid with a drive to make some kind of meaning out of it. Running, for me anyway, is a way to strip away the veneer and see things, if only for a brief moment, from a more primal perspective. By simplifying things into a single moment I can actually gain perspective on the larger picture. Sometimes I win and I'm rewarded with the feeling of transcendence and sometimes I loose and feel feelings of pathos and despair.
For a runner, running is a means to actualize our mortality, as is cockfighting for Balinese men. It's a way for us to "play with fire without getting burned," to quote one of the men. Because for the most part we're able to push ourselves to our physical and mental limits and live to tell about it. Rarely are the results a physical death but that is a small possibility and, I think, part of the allure. What is very real though is the metaphorical death. A perceived failure at an event we deem to be important, generally a race of some kind, kills our perception of ourselves in a way that makes us re-think our purpose. For the most part we regroup, lick our wounds, learn from our mistakes and are reborn to run another day. The Balinese man buys another rooster.
Race events are like the cockfight. What Erving Goffman referred to as "focused gatherings." A basic definition of a focused gathering is 'a collection of people engrossed in the flow of some common event relating to each other in terms of that flow.' Runners are a dispersed community, because of technological advances never more so, and race days serve as a means for a mix of some of us to get together and become one by partaking in the event itself. In many ways it is the the cycle of training for, participating in, and recovering from these events that make us a community by providing a sort of tangible reality that enables a culture to rise from it.
Participation in this type of flow requires a state of "deep play" (Bentham, Theory of Legislation taken from Geertz). That is, participating in something where the stakes are so high that from a practical perspective seems ludicrous to do. Many of us are marathoners. Some are triathletes. And some are Ultra-
or even Super Ultra-marathoners running crazy distances in the most
extreme conditions. There is wagering for both high and low stakes. The Balinese wager
their cocks against one another while we wager our runs against
ourselves. It may be a low stakes goal such as completing a given race
or something high stakes where our sense of identity as a runner
depends on completing a goal such as setting a PR. We go through long rituals for relatively short events. We obsess over something that ostensibly has no impact on what we need to do to survive and get on in the world and yet the act of doing it is necessary for us to function in the world where what we do has no value from a utilitarian perspective.
I guess I have more in common with a Balinese cockfighter than I thought.
