Category Archives: Philosophy

Introducing the Hans and Umbach Project

The Hans and Umbach Electro-Mechanical Computing Company

Last summer I began thinking about something that I referred to as “analog interactions”, those natural, in-the-world interactions we have with real, physical artifacts. My interest arose in response to a number of stimuli, one of which is the current trend towards smooth, glasslike capacitive touch screen devices. From iPhones to Droids to Nexus Ones to Mighty Mice to Joojoos to anticipated Apple tablets, there seems to a strong interest in eliminating the actual “touch” from our interactions with computational devices.

Glass capacitive touch screens allow for incredible flexibility in the display of and interaction with information. This is clearly demonstrated by the iPhone and iPod Touch, where software alone can change the keyboard configuration from letters to numbers to numeric keypads to different languages entirely.

A physical keyboard that needed to make the same adaptations would be quite a feat, and while the Optimus Maximus is an expensive step towards allowing such configurability in the display of keys, its buttons do not move, change shape or otherwise physically alter themselves in a manner similar to these touch screen keys. Chris Harrison and Scott Hudson, two PhD students at CMU, built a touch screen that uses small air chambers that allow it to feature physical (yet dynamically configurable) buttons.

From a convenience standpoint, capacitive touch screens make a lot of sense, in their ability to shrink input and output into one tiny package. Their form factor allows incredible latitude in using software to finely tune their interactions for particular applications. However, humans are creatures of a physical world that have an incredible capacity to sense, touch and interpret their surroundings. Our bodies have these well-developed skills that help us function as beings in the world, and I feel that capacitive touch screens, with their cold and static glass surfaces, insult the nuanced capabilities of the human senses.

Looking back, in an effort to look forward.

Musée Mécanique

Much of this coalesced in my mind during my summer in San Francisco, and specifically in my frequent trips to the Musee Mecanique. Thanks to its brilliant collection of turn-of-the-century penny arcade machines and automated musical instruments, I was continually impressed by the rich experiential qualities of these historic, pre-computational devices. From their lavish ornamentation to the deep stained woodgrain of their cabinets, from the way a sculpted metal handle feels in the hand to the smell of electricity in the air, the machines at the Musee Mecanique do an incredible job of engaging all the senses and offering a uniquely physical experience despite their primitive computational insides.

Off the Desktop and Into the World

It’s clear from the trajectory of computing that our points of interaction with computer systems are going to become increasingly delocalized, mobile and dispersed throughout our environment. While I am not yet ready to predict the demise of computing on a desktop (either through desktop or laptop computers alike), it is clear that our future interactions with computing are going to take place off the desktop, and out in the world with us. Indeed, I wrote about this on the Adaptive Path weblog while working there for the summer. Indeed, these interactions may supplement, rather than supplant, our usual eight-hour days in front of the glowing rectangle. This increased percentage of time that a person in the modern world would spend interacting with computing, even through any number of forms and methods, makes it all the more important that we consider the nature of these interactions, and deliberately model them in such a way that leverages our natural human abilities.

Embodiment

One model that can offer guidance in the design of these in-the-world computing interactions is the notion of embodiment, which as stated by Paul Dourish describes the common way in which we encounter physical reality in the everyday world. We deal with objects in the world–we see, touch and hear them–in real time and in real space. Embodiment is the property of our engagement with the world that allows us to interpret and make meaning of it, and the objects that we encounter in it. The physical world is the site and the setting for all human activity, and all theory, action and meaning arises out of our embodied engagement with the world.

From embodiment we can derive the idea of embodied interaction, which Dourish describes as the creation, manipulation and sharing of meaning through our engaged interaction with artifacts. Rather than situating meaning in the mind through typical models of cognition, embodied interaction posits that meaning arises out of our inescapable being-in-the-world. Indeed, our minds are necessarily situated in our bodies, and thus our bodies, our own embodiment in the world, plays a strong role in how we think about, interpret, understand, and make meaning about the world. Thus, theories of embodied interaction respect the human body as the source of information about the world, and take into account the user’s own embodiment as a resource when designing interactions.

Exploring Embodied Interaction and Physical Computing

And so, this semester I am pursuing an independent study into theories of embodied interaction, and practical applications of physical computing. For the sake of fun I am conducting this project under the guise of the Hans and Umbach Electro-Mechanical Computing Company, which is not actually a company, nor does it employ anyone by the name of Hans or Umbach.

In this line of inquiry I hope to untangle what it means when computing exists not just on a screen or on a desk, but is embedded in the space around us. I aim to explore the naturalness of in-the-world interactions, actions and behaviors that humans engage in every day without thinking, and how these can be leveraged to inform computer-augmented interactions that are more natural and intuitive. I am interested in exploring the boundary between the real/analog world (the physical world of time, space and objects in which we exist) and the virtual/digital world (the virtual world of digital information that effectively exists outside of physical space), and how this boundary is constructed and navigated.

Is it a false boundary, because the supposed “virtual” world can only be revealed to us by manipulating pixels or other artifacts in the “real” world? Is it a boundary that can be described in terms of the aesthetics of the experience with analog/digital artifacts, such as a note written on paper versus pixels representing words on a screen? Is it determined by the means of production, such as a laser-printed letter versus a typewriter-written letter on handmade paper? Is a handwritten letter more “analog” than an identical-looking letter printed off a high-quality printer? These are all questions I hope to address.

Interfacing Between the Digital and Analog

Paulo's Little Gadget by Han

I aim to explore these questions by learning physical computing, and the Arduino platform in particular, as a mechanism for bridging the gap between digital information and analog artifacts. Electronics is something that is quite unfamiliar to me, and so I hope that this can be an opportunity to reflect on my own experience of learning something new. Given my experience as a web developer and my knowledge of programming, I find electronics to be a particularly interesting interface, because it seems to be a physical manifestation of the programmatic logic that I have only engaged with in a virtual manner. I have coded content management systems for websites, but I have not coded something that takes up physical space and directly influences artifacts in the physical world.

Within the coding metaphor of electronics, too, there are two separate-but-related manifestations. The first is the raw “coding” of circuits, with resistors and transistors and the like, to achieve a certain result. The second is the coding in Processing, a computer language, that I write in a text editor and upload to the Arduino board to make it work its magic. Indeed, the Arduino platform is an incredibly useful tool for physical computing that I hope to learn more about in the coming semester, but it does put a layer of mysticism between one and one’s understanding of electronics. Thus, in concert with my experiments with Arduino I will be working through the incredible Make: Electronics: Learning by Discovery book, which literally takes you from zero to hero in regards to electronics. And really, I know a bit already, but I am quite a zero at this point.

In Summary

Over the next few months I aim to study notions of embodiment, and embodied interaction in particular, in the context of learning and working with physical computing. As computing continues its delocalization and migration into our environment, it is important that existing interaction paradigms be challenged based on their appropriateness for new and different interactive contexts. The future of computing need not resemble the input and output devices that we currently associate with computers, despite the recognizable evolution of the capacitive touch screen paradigm. By deliberately designing for the embodied nature of human experience, we can create new interactive models that result in naturally rich, compelling and intuitive systems.

Welcome to the Hans and Umbach Electro-Mechanical Computing Company. It’s clearly going to be a busy, ambitious, somewhat dizzying semester.

Quoth Heidegger

There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who engage in hermeneutical phenomenology, those who engage in phenomenological hermeneutics, and those who get beat up after philosophy class for being good at math.

Mindflayer

In the context of how analog interactions tie into human experience and perception, Jared just pointed me to Henri Bergson’s Time and Free Will: An Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness.

All I can say is, holy shit. My long-dormant love for philosophy just rocketed so hard to the front of my consciousness that it threatens to break through my forehead.

Things are about to get interesting.

Eight

I find it somewhat comforting when my surroundings remind me that this, all of this, is just a phase. The wild river of life, not unlike the Monsoon Lagoon at Raging Waters, twists and turns as it sees fit. No doubt in a few short years, or weeks or months or even days for that matter, we’ll all find ourselves paddling completely different routes.

Tonight I was reminded how fortunate it is that I am no longer ten years old. No longer do I throw tantrums and shout at my mother and slam doors so hard it ripples the floor upstairs and makes the lights flicker. Me? I don’t really mind listening to the whole act. I actually find it quite entertaining, and what’s more it also grants me a moment’s pause for reflection. I smile at it now, knowing that fifteen years ago nothing I blew up over was critical enough to leave a lasting impression on my life. I chuckle and wonder why the hell I took it all so seriously, when nothing really mattered at all.

Sure, I realize this now, but to be fair I must remind myself that back then, this was my very reality. I commit a historical injustice when I superimpose my current mental state on my ten-year-old self. Back then I was ten, and that’s all I had. All those daily ups and downs, the joys and stresses, they were what constituted my life. Of course I took all that stuff seriously, whether it was the injustice of not getting a Sega Genesis for Christmas, or missing a ride to school in the morning, or being forced to eat hot lunch for an entire year.

Ultimately, what difference did it make? In the long-term, was it really worth gettin’ stressed out and throwing a tantrum over that Genesis? Damn. Even back then, when I saved up and finally bought one with my own money, I ended up selling it a couple months later for a Super Nintendo. Talk about a short romance. Back in 1990, try telling me that in fifteen years the main players in the video game realm would be the company that built my Walkman, and the company that invented DOS. Try telling me that Ninendo would literally own Sega. I would probably call you crazy, and I then I would probably kick you in the shins. Seriously, I was notorious for that in elementary school.

Flux is the natural state of all things. This is both ridiculously obvious and ridiculously easy to forget. Even now, I’m no doubt working myself into a tizzy over things that, in ten years’ time, I’ll simply laugh at upon reflection. The only difference is that this time around I’m aware that my stresses are ridiculous in the greater sense, involving such dumb things as mysterious mold growing on the outside of my flower pots, bleach stains on my bath mat, and misspellings on my LLC registration with the Oregon Secretary of State.

In its own dumb way, the knowledge that these stresses are inconsequential becomes a stress itself, a kind of meta-stress about the lack of relevant stress in my life. Sigh. Perhaps I miss my days of hiking through hailstorms, evading grizzlies, and treating blisters.

Or perhaps there’s just a gaping hole in my heart. Try as I might to distract myself with the banalities of civilized life, I miss those days of driving to Anoka, playing lousy mini-golf, and turning road signs into giant birds that eat people.

I just lost the game.

Cryptozoology

So.

I had a post here, but as the martini was taking hold I inadvertently closed my browser window. This should be a lesson that the web is not a proper development environment for the discipline of writing, and instead we should write our drafts on something less ephermeral, like composition books or soft clay tablets or coffee mugs.

Thus, this here post is being written in my wholly over-priced and sadly disappointing text editor of choice, which I continue to use because I can’t afford the competition. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself, given the current weakness of the dollar in the global economy.

What is a euro, anyway? As far as I’m concerned, it’s nothing more than a fancy keystroke, an ASCII-equivalent, an extended character in my font library. Either that, or a brilliant attempt by the mindflayers of the European Union to drag Scandinavia down into the dirt with the rest, to try and force them off their noble crowns and kroners and kronas and the whole lot.

Anyway, BBEdit really isn’t all that bad. It just feels… clunky. I mean, I continue to use it because it has really robust RegEx support, but even its search-and-replace dialogue is disappointing. Seriously, hitting the “return” key doesn’t start a new line, but instantly executes my half-baked script? And yet the paltry three-line textareas aren’t resizable? And your HTML toolbar wastes more of my time than it saves? And your automatic code-coloring, in a word, sucks? BBEdit, you’re fucking lucky the Euro is roaming around these days, because it’s the only reason I’m still with you.

That and inertia. Curse you Newton, for inventing both.

I don’t know why, but my mind keeps drifting to trolls. Not the trolls in World of Warcraft, mind you, but the little ugly ones that roam the northern reaches of Minnesota. As I recall, trolls were introduced to Minnesota by the early Scandinavians who settled the area. They smuggled over from the Old World while hiding in liquor barrels and tiny, tiny thatched houses and rotten moss-covered logs that the Scandinavians brought over to remind themselves of their homeland.

These trolls look like they’re made out of wood and grass and nuts and pine needles, and if you ever caught one and brought it to your nose you would say the same for the smell (though some are thought to bathe infrequently and may smell slightly of duff as a result). However, it is important to remember that trolls are indeed made of meat, just like the rest of us, as it would be silly to think that a living thing could be made of anything besides meat. How absurd!

It is said that every time you say “I don’t believe in trolls!” a troll somewhere dies. I find this to be a ridiculous notion, and I demand those who researched the matter to cite their sources. Even for a humanoid species as closely tied to the environment as trolls are, it’s hard to believe that the mere utterance of a few words would have a direct causal relationship with their untimely deaths.

Now, it’s feasible that when the above statement is said it will set into motion a chain of events that inevitably brings about the death of a troll. If that is the case, however, it becomes a question of whether or not the person who said “I don’t believe in trolls!” is morally responsible for the death. I suppose that depends if the person who made the utterance said it with autonomy (in that he or she was not compelled by another to say it), and if the chain of events involved any other autonomous beings that knowingly could have chosen one way or the other to cause a troll’s death.

Genocide or not, I still haven’t figured out if trolls live in the forests of the Northwest. My friend lives across the river in Snowden, and most of his neighbors claim that they have seen sasquatch and aliens… he also adds that his neighbors are the kind of people that have always seen sasquatch or aliens. A few weeks ago there was a creepy event where a number of goats had their udders surgically removed, which as far as I’m concerned neither proves nor disproves the presence of sasquatch, aliens, neighbors, or even goats for that matter.

Trolls, though? I have no idea on that one. Really, no idea. Maybe I’ll find out while camping under the stars for our Pray for Snow party at the base of Mount Hood tomorrow.