Online, offline, and the ‘need’ to share

Tech Life

First things first: The IRL Fetish, written by Nathan Jurgenson for The New Inquiry is an essay you should read in full and bookmark right away, because it’s one of the best you’ll find, especially for its clarity in describing this ‘tech life’ many of us live today. A tech life where “Thoughts, ideas, locations, photos, identities, friendships, memories, politics, and almost everything else are finding their way to social media.”

It’s a captivating, thought-provoking read. The central part, the point Jurgenson makes which I find absolutely spot-on, is this:

To obsess over the offline and deny all the ways we routinely remain disconnected is to fetishize this disconnection. Author after author pretends to be a lone voice, taking a courageous stand in support of the offline in precisely the moment it has proliferated and become over-valorized. For many, maintaining the fiction of the collective loss of the offline for everyone else is merely an attempt to construct their own personal time-outs as more special, as allowing them to rise above those social forces of distraction that have ensnared the masses. “I am real. I am the thoughtful human. You are the automaton.” I am reminded of a line from a recent essay by Sarah Nicole Prickett: that we are “so obsessed with the real that it’s unrealistic, atavistic, and just silly.” How have we come to make the error of collectively mourning the loss of that which is proliferating?

In great part, the reason is that we have been taught to mistakenly view online as meaning not offline. The notion of the offline as real and authentic is a recent invention, corresponding with the rise of the online. If we can fix this false separation and view the digital and physical as enmeshed, we will understand that what we do while connected is inseparable from what we do when disconnected. That is, disconnection from the smartphone and social media isn’t really disconnection at all: The logic of social media follows us long after we log out. There was and is no offline; it is a lusted-after fetish object that some claim special ability to attain, and it has always been a phantom.

Digital information has long been portrayed as an elsewhere, a new and different cyberspace, a tendency I have coined the term “digital dualism” to describe: the habit of viewing the online and offline as largely distinct. The common (mis)understanding is experience is zero-sum: time spent online means less spent offline. We are either jacked into the Matrix or not; we are either looking at our devices or not. When camping, I have service or not, and when out to eat, my friend is either texting or not. The smartphone has come to be “the perfect symbol” of leaving the here and now for something digital, some other, cyber, space.

But this idea that we are trading the offline for the online, though it dominates how we think of the digital and the physical, is myopic. It fails to capture the plain fact that our lived reality is the result of the constant interpenetration of the online and offline. That is, we live in an augmented reality that exists at the intersection of materiality and information, physicality and digitality, bodies and technology, atoms and bits, the off and the online. It is wrong to say “IRL” to mean offline: Facebook is real life.

Yet, while reading this very fine argument, I started having some doubts. My point of view is one of a person who has experienced ‘life before the Web’ and who has lived through the great impact and transformations brought by the Internet from the mid-1990s up to now. That is why I don’t completely agree when Jurgenson writes “If we can fix this false separation and view the digital and physical as enmeshed, we will understand that what we do while connected is inseparable from what we do when disconnected. That is, disconnection from the smartphone and social media isn’t really disconnection at all: The logic of social media follows us long after we log out. There was and is no offline; it is a lusted-after fetish object that some claim special ability to attain, and it has always been a phantom.”

I tend to see some kind of separation between the online and the offline because, well, I lived that moment when the online started creeping into my life. I lived that moment where the online started becoming an activity that separated me, in some ways, from my surroundings. I lived that moment in which logging in and ‘going online’ was somehow like going someplace else. And since I could spend (a lot of) time doing things in this ‘other place’, the experience was more addicting and detaching than, say, losing myself in a book (an ‘offline’ activity). While over the years and especially in these recent years I’ve come to accept this increasing interconnection between the online and the offline, while I’ve come to terms with the fact that technology has gone under our skin (figuratively for now, and maybe literally soon), for me the “disconnection from the smartphone and social media” is still a disconnection, and “the logic of social media” doesn’t follow me long after I log out.

That is why my position starts diverging from Jurgenson’s when he writes:

Facebook doesn’t curtail the offline but depends on it. What is most crucial to our time spent logged on is what happened when logged off; it is the fuel that runs the engine of social media. The photos posted, the opinions expressed, the check-ins that fill our streams are often anchored by what happens when disconnected and logged-off. The Web has everything to do with reality; it comprises real people with real bodies, histories, and politics. It is the fetish objects of the offline and the disconnected that are not real.

I politely beg to differ here: I’m not entirely sure that “What is most crucial to our time spent logged on is what happened when logged off; it is the fuel that runs the engine of social media.” Or rather, I’m not entirely sure it’s this simple. I see increasingly strange and quirky behaviours online from people who — I suspect — have less and less offline material to offer as ‘fuel’. In other, more blunt words, I notice behaviours of people whose life when not connected is practically non-existent. I notice this in the way people express their opinions in online forums and discussion threads on sites and blogs where comments are permitted. I notice certain ways of reacting, certain ways of interpreting things, certain lack of logic and common sense that in my opinion reveals how little of ‘the offline world’, of ‘the world out there’ these people have experienced. (Or how much they’ve come to rely on the online dimension only, getting information there and there only, without being able to effectively sort the wheat from the chaff.) 

This is what I find most dangerous: that this increasing presence of the online in our lives might end up throwing off the delicate balance between online and offline, and progressively become self-sustaining. I’m exaggerating a bit here with the dystopia, I know, but since Jurgenson mentions The Matrix, think about the scene where Cypher meets Agent Smith at the restaurant and says: You know, I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? … Ignorance is bliss.

The Web has everything to do with reality — Jurgenson writes — it comprises real people with real bodies, histories, and politics.” It is true, yet at the same time we have to start asking ourselves what is this ‘reality’ we’re talking about, because the Web has everything to do with a reality the Web itself is changing and transforming every day. The IRL (In Real Life) dimension may be fetishised by some, but I’ve also encountered people who clearly fetishise the online. People for whom Facebook is indeed real life and not just an ingredient, a part of it. People for whom an Internet acquaintance has the same importance as the person they’re meeting face to face. 

Let’s be clear here. I’m not saying that people you exclusively interact with online are less important than the ones you know in person. We’re all real people with real bodies, etc. What feels wrong is the lack of focus and depth of field, so to speak: we are meeting for a dinner among friends, why does texting or chatting on your smartphone with your acquaintance overseas have to get the same focus, the same prominence, as the situation you’re living this very moment, in the here and now, with the people you’re having dinner with? I’m not saying ‘Don’t use Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and so forth’, I’m just saying ‘Why now? Why do you have to lose yourself in that portable glowing device (smartphone or tablet) right now? I’m simply advocating layers, foreground and background, depth. Do you really feel that checking in to Foursquare when you enter a pub, or snapping photos of the food you’re about to eat and sharing them on Instagram, or chatting online with your smartphone with someone who’s not even there (unless we’re talking of loved ones and significant others) makes for an enriching, fuller experience?

In short: I realise the digital and physical are enmeshed and dichotomies are silly here, but where is this inseparable interconnection taking us? Who knows, perhaps what Jurgenson calls fetishisation of the offline is some kind of reaction to the very infiltration of the online, of the digital, into our lives. Some kind of re-adjustment. 

Finally, the part I disagree with Jurgenson the most is this paragraph near the end:

Those who mourn the loss of the offline are blind to its prominence online. When Turkle was walking Cape Cod, she breathed in the air, felt the breeze, and watched the waves with Facebook in mind. The appreciation of this moment of so-called disconnection was, in part, a product of online connection. The stroll ultimately was understood as and came to be fodder for her op-ed, just as our own time spent not looking at Facebook becomes the status updates and photos we will post later.

How can Jurgenson be so sure of that? Honestly, when I disconnect from the Web and the online (and it happens for a few weeks every year), when I go for a hike or excursion, I love to feel the place, to feel the moment for myself. In those circumstances, believe me, the Internet is far far away. I write notes in my paper notebook, I take photos with my film and digital cameras, but I’m not doing those activities with the urge of sharing them online later. For me, sharing is a choice, not a need. Compared to my experiences offline, what I share online is little, really. I’m wired that way. I like to share, mind you, but online sharing is not the ultimate goal of what I do every day. 

(And by the way, sharing offline — lending books, making others listen to certain music you like by being in the same room while listening, showing photos in person, sending postcards, giving small gifts — for me is certainly more satisfying. Something I loved to do when digital photography was just in its infancy, was taking Polaroids of the sky, of the clouds, on different days and in different weather conditions, and then giving them to people I cared for so that they could use them as bookmarks. Their reaction to my little idea was indeed a fulfilling experience). 

[O]ur own time spent not looking at Facebook becomes the status updates and photos we will post later” to me sounds like too simplistic a statement, and while I shudder as I reckon that for some people it may not get more complex than that, I most certainly don’t think and don’t function that way. The time I spend offline is definitely not a function of what I may or may not do online later, or what I’ve done online before. For example, when I take a photo during a walk around town, I don’t choose the subject thinking “Hah, I can’t wait to show this on Flickr or Instagram”. I simply photograph things I love, scenes or fragments which have attracted my attention somehow. This always comes first. Then I might choose to post such photos or not. There isn’t any compulsion to share or towards online social media. There is a sphere of privacy, of intimacy, of feeling certain experiences as mine and mine only, where the online is simply not allowed to bleed in. It’s probably a subtlety, but it makes all the difference to me.

Let me rant about iOS 6 Maps a little

Software

I have two eligible devices that could be updated to iOS 6, a third-generation iPad and an iPhone 4. When I realised the step backwards regarding the quality of the new Apple Maps application (replacing the previous version, based on Google Maps), I got cautious. On the one hand, I was eager to try some of the new features and improvements in iOS 6; on the other, since I’ve come to rely on the Maps app quite often — especially for public transportation directions — I really wasn’t too much excited to ‘upgrade’ to a new Maps app which doesn’t even have such directions. Thus, the decision came easily: I would update my iPad to iOS 6, but not my iPhone 4. Until Google releases a standalone Maps application for iOS 6, I’ll leave iOS 5.1.1 on my iPhone.

After exploring the new Maps app on the iPad for quite a bit, I must say I made the right choice. One of the first searches I performed in Maps was an easy one, or so I thought: I would ask Maps directions to reach the one official Apple Store here in Valencia. I reported my experience in this brief post on The Quillink annotated. (By the way, after reporting the problem, the issue seems to have been corrected already, so kudos to Apple for the speed).

These days I’ve been trying other Maps queries, and the results are quite the disaster. Maps got right 5 search queries over 25. In some instances, I did what other users did to test the accuracy of the application: I searched for well-known places or sites whose location I know exactly, and the results I obtained were spectacularly inaccurate or led me nowhere (both literally and figuratively). I even had to slightly correct my home address, because when I tapped on it in my Contacts’ card, Maps opened and placed the pin in another town outside Valencia. Needless to say, the same queries in Google Maps returned accurate results and precise directions.

One common error in the new iOS 6 Maps app is due to its inflexibility and apparent inability to handle ambiguous or incomplete queries. You can’t expect people to write a perfectly formed address all the time. Furthermore, often users search directions for a place (such as a point of interest, or businesses, restaurants, petrol stations, banks, etc.) they really don’t know its address. When you perform a search in the previous Google-based Maps app after asking the app to pinpoint your current location, the app assumes you’re looking for places in your vicinity, and returns a fairly accurate result even when your query is approximate and generic. If I’m walking near Valencia’s centre and ask where “Calle Colón” is (Calle Colón is a rather big avenue right in the centre of Valencia), Google Maps responds by showing me a bunch of pins indicating businesses and other places I can find along the actual Calle Colón in Valencia. Apple Maps shows me the Calle Colón of a town outside Valencia. To get something useful out of Apple Maps I have to form a more precise query. In this example, I have to ask Apple Maps where “Calle de Cristóbal Colón” is. (For English speakers: it’s like the difference between asking about “Columbus Avenue” and “Christopher Columbus Avenue”).

I completely agree with Federico Viticci’s comments on Apple Maps in his immense piece The iOS 6 Trilemma:

Above, I wrote that users just want stuff to work. They don’t care about deals between companies or the strategic importance of moving away from Google. Many of those who will upgrade to iOS 6 will find a worse Maps application than the one they used to have.

Apple Maps are pretty. The standard view is all vector-based, so you can zoom in and out without losing any detail. Their icons are colored and nice. But besides that, just about everything else is a step backwards from Google Maps here in Italy, and especially in my area. 

And here in Spain as well.

[…] Every once in a while, looking for a location in Viterbo takes me to another city in Italy, although I entered the name correctly. Occasionally, this happens with local businesses too: I hit the “Locate” button, type in the name of a store in Viterbo, and suddenly I’m in Rome. […]

As I’ve already outlined, the same phenomenon has happened to me here in Valencia, too.

[…] Local business search is inferior to Google Maps. Apple has nicer icons to differentiate businesses, but the results are fewer and out of date. […]

Same here, and possibly worse if you consider that Valencia isn’t a small town. In my generic search for Greek restaurants, Siri, using the Maps framework, returned four results. Two of them were for the same business, but with the address written in two slightly different ways, so that one seemed to be near where I live, and the other in a completely different town. Oh, by the way, that Greek restaurant closed more than a year ago, and now there’s a sushi restaurant in its place. 

I also agree with Federico about the loss that is the removal of Street View, replaced by an inferior and rather useless ‘3D’ representation; and the Flyover feature, which may be beautiful to look at if you’re living in big American cities, but for the rest it’s little more than a gimmick.

[…] Even if Flyover had better imagery, animations, and was faster and more responsive, I don’t think it would be as useful as Street View. It’s a cool toy. But to get the job done – to explore cities as humans would – I have to use Street View on my computer. Humans drive and walk, they don’t fly. Flyover sounds good on marketing material – “stunning 3D images with animations!” – but in actual usage, it’s terrible. […]

Exactly.

And here comes the part where I agree most with Federico, worth of a full quote:

People want their devices to work. Normal people use these things to plan trips, go to work, wake up in the morning, catch the bus to go to school. These devices have changed and improved many aspects of people’s lives. We’re not playing games here anymore. The tech press is so entrenched in itself, we have forgotten normal people use their iPhones and iPads not for “reviews” and “exclusives” – they use them to do stuff. To get the kids to school on time. To learn a city’s landmarks and must-see locations before going there.

How are we going to tell these people that, because of Apple’s strategy, they’ll have to cope with an inferior version of Maps?

How do we tell students that public transit directions are no longer, that they’ll have to use separate “App Store apps” – which aren’t available yet?

Can we justify Apple Maps in the name of the greater good?

Personally, I can’t. Because while I could go on and let my friends read the “Company” section above and try to make them understand that, yes, that’s why Apple had to ditch Google, the truth is – they don’t care. They are going to update to iOS 6 because they’re curious, just like everybody else, and they’re going to ask about “the Maps app that doesn’t work anymore”.

They won’t say “Yeah, but at least Apple has more control now”.

They won’t say “At least Apple’s icons are nicer”.

Those are things bloggers like me write. The “normal people” will hate that the new Maps app isn’t as good as before.

And we’ll have to tell them that “It’ll get better soon”. Because it’s not great since day one.

It’s time we stop giving Apple a free pass on everything. Enough with the sugar-coating. Earlier this year, someone argued that the privacy fiasco was actually a good thing because it could have been worse on Android. What kind of explanation is that? It was bad, period. With Maps, I have a similar black & white view. The current version of Maps is, from a data standpoint, a step backwards from Google Maps, with the exception of turn-by-turn navigation, which is a great addition.

As a tech writer, I understand the importance of Apple’s new Maps, and I applaud their decision to build their own solution for the future. I also understand that, while Apple could have licensed some Google technologies such as Street View and public transit directions to include as options in the new Maps, they didn’t want to.

As a user, I can’t help but think that this needed more time, that maps simply aren’t ready in many areas, and that Google Maps was just better.

Apple’s response, “The more people use Maps, the better it will get”, is just baffling to me. As I said on Twitter, I think maps are a bigger deal than Genius playlists. When the Genius feature was new, the first days it returned me laughable results, and soon started getting better and better. The big difference is that when Genius in iTunes failed to give a useful suggestion, it wasn’t really a problem. If one likes Enya, who cares if Genius suggests Iron Maiden, right? But when you ask directions for a place you’d like to reach but you don’t know where it is, and Maps sends you 25 kilometres away, in another town, to a nonexistent restaurant, government office building, or — worse — doesn’t help you to find a hospital or clinic, well, that’s a whole other story. After submitting 15 ‘Report a problem’ in Apple Maps, I really don’t feel like doing the homework for Apple. Not when there’s already a better product around. “The more people use Maps, the better it will get” to me really sounds like “The more people find themselves lost today, the less they’ll find themselves lost tomorrow”. I’ll just go back to my paper maps, thanks.

Yes, Google Maps has been around for a longer period of time and it’s a more mature and refined product. Yes, I know that Apple couldn’t have possibly developed an equally mature and refined product overnight. But I must say, I also didn’t expect Maps to be this level of bad. And Apple didn’t start acquiring map companies just a few weeks ago, it’s been three years at least. I don’t know what’s behind the scenes, and I don’t pretend to tell Apple what it should do or have done — God forbid. At the same time I can’t help feeling Apple hasn’t invested enough in developing a good map product, especially if it’s meant to compete against something like Google Maps. 

Another thing that annoys me are certain reactions like ‘Maps works great where I live, what’s the big deal people are making?’ or people who point out that even Google Maps isn’t always perfect and accurate. Or paternalistic crap like this Apple Maps: The FAQ. It’s true that Google Maps aren’t perfect, but at this point the error, the missing or inaccurate or ridiculous result (directions-wise, at least) seems to be the exception in Google Maps and the rule in Apple Maps. Tech writers and informed geeks may understand what’s happening, but the majority of common users, the millions who will purchase the new iPhone and who are already upgrading to iOS 6 — as Viticci points out — will simply find themselves with an inferior Maps application that does not ‘just work’. Inferior not from an engineering standpoint — it’s actually prettier than Google Maps: vector-based maps, better typography, visually appealing turn-by-turn directions, etc. — but as regards to sheer reliability. Which I think is all that matters with maps and directions.

Siding with the new ‘timid’ iPod nano

Tech Life

In his article at The Verge entitled Apple’s timid new iPod nano sidesteps a smartwatch revolution, Nilay Patel shares some rather blunt opinions about the new iPod nano. While I agree that the iPod line — with the exception of the iPod touch — is the least innovative of Apple’s portable device offering, I’m not so sure about the rest of Patel’s assessment. Here are a few observations.

Patel writes:

Why all the changes? According to insiders, Apple reworks the nano every few years to kick off a cycle of upgrades — the $150 nano is an impulse buy holiday present that almost makes it seem like you care about the recipient. […]

But that’s the old market, and the old way. It is, you might say, the Samsung or Sony way. It has not been the Apple way — iPod sales decline steadily every quarter, and cynically changing the nano into a tiny fake iPhone to juice sales one last time won’t stop that slide. The MP3 player market is dead, and Apple doesn’t seem to know how to move on. 

I wouldn’t say that the MP3 market is dead, not yet at least. The problem with many geek tech writers is that often they have this tendency to look at things from their geeky perspective, and at times their point of view might be a bit myopic. Not every user of modern gadgets out there shares the same habits as us geeks. Not everyone has the latest iPhone, iPod touch or iPad. Some people use a ‘classic’ iPod for listening to music and don’t have an iPhone (or any other multi-touch smartphone for that matter). Some people prefer buying an iPod nano instead of an iPod touch or an iPhone for their preadolescent children. Some people may like the simplicity of the non-iOS iPods but prefer other platforms for their phones and tablets. Some people may not even afford anything above the nano’s price point. These are just the first counterexamples that come to mind.

Now, about the iPod nano’s redesign. I guess that, rather than “changing [it] into a tiny fake iPhone to juice sales”, Apple’s concern was more like addressing one significant issue of the previous-generation nano: the user interface. Yes, the previous nano was small and very wearable and cool, and it could be transformed into a geeky ‘smartwatch’ with the right accessory, but in my opinion its user interface was a disaster. The screen was too tiny for precise touch gestures (they should have called it ‘iPod shuffle touch’). Navigating playlist was a pain in the arse. Even changing screen orientation with two fingers was neither intuitive nor a quick-and-easy affair. I know because I tried one quite extensively when they came out: on paper, I would have purchased it straight away. After trying one in person… no, thank you. I didn’t know what changes the 7th-generation nano would sport, but I was sure Apple would revert to a device with a bigger screen, especially if you want to have a decent multi-touch interface and user experience. The bigger physical controls and the addition of a Home button are other welcome improvements.

Patel continues:

There was a glimmer of hope a year ago, when Apple updated the previous watch-sized iPod nano with new clock displays and even began selling nano watch bands in its retail stores. The nano wasn’t a very good watch, but the potential was blindingly obvious — it was Bluetooth and a connectivity protocol away from being the ultimate iPhone accessory. It felt like a brewing revolution in wearable computing that guaranteed an extra $149 in revenue from every iPhone owner.

The ultimate iPhone accessory”? Really? Are we even sure that this ‘smartwatch’ thing would have been the future for the iPod nano? Do you really want a ‘smartwatch’ with you along with the iPhone, essentially relaying to you the same kind of alerts and notifications the iPhone already provides? I don’t know, it seems a bit redundant to me (unless there’s some great feature or potential usage I’m not seeing). I feel for all those who manufactured accessories to transform the nano into a cool wristwatch, yet I find a bit naïve to expect that Apple would maintain the same (or a similar) design for the most chameleonic and unpredictable of all iPod models. 

And yes, Kickstarter campaigns for high-quality accessories such as the TikTok and LunaTik wristbands were successful and proved that there was/is interest for this kind of thing. Who knows, maybe smartwatches are the next big gadget. Maybe a lot of owners of the previous nano were just looking for an alternative way to use an iPod with an otherwise terrible user interface.

Five

Tech Life

As with anything that has to do with a new Apple product, the debate is an ongoing flow of opinions before, during and after the introduction of said product. In the case of the iPhone, every time a new model is introduced, the Internet has shown it can go absolutely crazy, with the most varied range of reactions, from the utterly silly and gratuitous babble, to the smartest, thought-provoking insights. The quantity of posts commenting the new iPhone 5 is simply impossible to follow.

I wanted to take a couple of quiet hours of my time to enjoy the video of Apple’s September 12 music event before writing anything about it because I didn’t want to feel tempted to just comment on other people’s reactions or commentaries. After watching the whole thing, I admit it was a bit difficult to come up with a cohesive piece, so I thought I’d keep this simple — but alas, not short — and share five observations.

1. The leaks

This I have to say to the many rumour sites out there: Great fucking job you’ve done, I hope you’re all pleased with yourselves. A lot of the effect of a new Apple product’s introduction relies on the surprise element. But when you already know practically everything that there is to know, the wow factor gets irreparably dampened. At the time of the iPhone 4 launch, thanks to the whole lost/stolen prototype affair, the new case design was known, but little more than that: the internal changes and new features revealed during the Apple event (above all, the Retina display) were surprising enough to make me enjoy the unveiling of the new iPhone. This time the leaks have been so egregious that everything of the iPhone 5 — outside and inside — was already predicted or outright revealed: the bigger screen, the bigger battery, the new processor, the improved camera, the support for LTE, and so on.

I usually try to avoid rumour sites and articles, but these last two months the ‘sensational scoops’ have been posted everywhere and so aggressively that even skimming through my RSS feeds with Flipboard was enough to spot leaked photos of the iPhone 5 case, and even a video in which you could see the new EarPods.

Personally, there’s nothing I find disappointing about the new iPhone 5. What is disappointing is this increasingly maddening ‘leak culture’, enabled by people who just can’t wait a few weeks to see how a damned smartphone will look like, so that they’re happy to give thousands of pageviews to stupid rumour sites.

2. The small things

When innovation is on the ‘micro’ scale, sometimes it gets overlooked or underrated. I won’t certainly describe the iPhone 5 as being a ‘revolutionary’ device, but it is undoubtedly on a great evolutionary path. (See also this smart post by Chris Breen on Macworld). You must understand that the iPhone is too important for Apple to radically change its looks at every new model generation. It is a delicate balance: on one hand, changes have to be significant enough to make an upgrade worthwhile; on the other hand, the iPhone’s general design has quickly become a classic, and deviating from it dramatically (and somewhat capriciously) would be too risky and ultimately an unwise decision. With the iPhone 5, therefore, what’s significant is a series of small changes and improvements which taken individually may not seem remarkable, but together have a cumulative force.

Really, the best description of this process is on the iPhone design page at Apple’s site:

iPhone 5 is just 7.6 millimeters thin. To make that happen, Apple engineers had to think small, component by component. They created a nano-SIM card, which is 44 percent smaller than a micro-SIM. They also developed a unique cellular solution for iPhone 5. The conventional approach to building LTE into a world phone uses two chips — one for voice, one for data. On iPhone 5, both are on a single chip. The intelligent, reversible Lightning connector is 80 percent smaller than the 30-pin connector. The 8MP iSight camera has even more features — like panorama and dynamic low-light mode — yet it’s 20 percent smaller. And the new A6 chip is up to 2x faster than the A5 chip but 22 percent smaller. Even with so much inside, iPhone 5 is 20 percent lighter and 18 percent thinner than iPhone 4S.

In a nutshell, almost every major component in the iPhone 5 is smaller than before (except of course for the battery, which is bigger) and at the same time more powerful. The result is a device that yes, is taller than the previous models, but also thinner and lighter. And more powerful. And with a longer battery life. This is not marketing speak, but a series of facts anyone can verify.

Speaking of personal preferences regarding other small things, I like how now the black model is effectively blacker than before (love that ‘Black & Slate’ combination) and the white model is… less white than before. I never liked all that whiteness in the white iPhone 4/4S, in my opinion it made the device look cheaper and more kitsch than the black model. The new White & Silver combination is, to my eyes, much more elegant.

Another feature I like — which probably didn’t attract much attention during the Apple event — is the three microphones and the fact that now noise-cancelling works both ways, for outgoing and also incoming calls, which should be great when people call you from a place with a noisy, busy background.

Yet another welcome addition are the EarPods, the new Apple earphones. I haven’t tried them yet, but considering the terrible sound quality the previous earphones delivered, these will surely be an improvement. I still don’t understand Apple’s insistence on a single white model. It would have been quite nice to have black EarPods to match the black iPhone 5.

3. The disappointment

People have grown increasingly demanding towards Apple. I really don’t know what on earth they expected from the new iPhone. That after all those leaked images Apple would have shocked everyone by presenting a different iPhone, completely redesigned overnight? After reading a bunch of reactions from pundits, commenters on tech news sites and the like, it seems that people wanted a revolutionary new design but, er, not too much revolutionary because, you know, the iPhone is the iPhone in the end and… Oh well, I give up.

Others have found the iPhone 5 disappointing because it doesn’t include features like Near Field Communication (NFC) and wireless charging. I don’t know enough of the former to express an informed opinion, but my guess is that Apple simply deemed the technology not mature enough (or not widespread enough) to be useful for iPhone users at this time. As for the second, since I also own a Palm Pre 2 and its wireless Touchstone charger, let me tell you: wireless charging may be a cool feature to show off to your friends, but it’s not worth the hardware changes that have to be implemented in order to make it work correctly and reliably. (Lots of Palm Pre owners had to have their Touchstone replaced — sometimes more than once — before finding one that worked well). Keep in mind that yes, the phone is not connected to the charger through a wire, but you always have to connect the charger to a wall socket to charge the phone. There’s very little convenience to be gained here.

But the real silly bit must be the quantity of virtual ink that has been poured about the infamous new Lightning connector, replacing the 9‑year old 30-pin dock connector. Some says that if Apple wanted/needed a smaller connector, it should have opted for the more standard micro-USB solution. In his blog, the excellent Rainer Brockerhoff explains why Apple didn’t do that, and why the Lightning connector (albeit proprietary) is a better choice:

People keep asking why Apple didn’t opt for the micro-USB connector. The answer is simple: that connector isn’t smart enough. It has only 5 pins: +5V, Ground, 2 digital data pins, and a sense pin, so most of the dock connector functions wouldn’t work – only charging and syncing would. Also, the pins are so small that no current plug/connector manufacturer allows the 2A needed for iPad charging. Note that this refers to individual pins; I’ve been told that several devices manage to get around this by some trick or other, but I couldn’t find any standard for doing so.

Of course, to maintain a bit of retrocompatibility with all the third-party accessories users have been purchasing over the years for their iPods and iPhones, Apple had to introduce a Lightning to 30-pin Adapter. Of course, said adapter is sold separately for $29. Of course, people have written the stupidest arguments about it. My opinion on the matter? It’s exactly like Cole Peters’, so go read his great piece: The Spoor of High Horses. (I so agree with him when he says “It’s not that people aren’t allowed to dislike an Apple product, or features of it […] but rather what astonishes me is the lengths these people are willing to go to in their searching out of negative aspects. Minor details are blown into overwhelming claims of failure, all in the name of getting some time in the spotlight or simply to take part in the hate-on-Apple game.” — but please read the whole article, it’s worth your time).

4. The new iTunes

I am a renowned iTunes hater. It’s possibly the single most irritating software ever produced by Apple, and the only time I liked it was when it was just a music player and nothing more. It was simple, it worked just fine. Then, the downward spiral until it became a multimedia behemoth, slow and progressively less user-friendly.

The new, completely redesigned iTunes is a huge step forward, in my opinion. The new interface borrows heavily from iOS, but in this case it is really a big improvement. From what I’ve seen in the video of the Apple event, the new iTunes gets everything right as regards to user interface and interaction. It feels lighter while retaining all its (numerous) features. Navigation is easier and better thought-out. It is also graphically more elegant and essential. The ‘Up Next’ feature is useful and interesting. And even though I basically never used iTunes minimised, I really love what they did with the Mini-player: it appears more functional and versatile than before, and I may be inclined to use it more now.

The various Apple online stores (iTunes Store, App Store, iBookstore) have also been redesigned, and it’s definitely a welcome change. The App Store in particular needed this, because we had come to a point where its user interface simply couldn’t keep up with the exponential increase in the number of apps to choose from. Search and navigation were indeed suffering. The new design appears to be a more functional change. I can’t wait to try it.

5. The increasing polarisation

A few days ago, here’s what I said in two consecutive tweets: It is increasingly difficult to talk about technology without being labelled. Either one is an “Apple fan” or an “Apple hater”. It’s not black or white! Also, it’s ludicrous that, to appear ‘objective’, one has to belittle Apple or its products, lest one lose credibility.

Up until three years ago, I was all for ‘fighting the good fight’, trying to clarify my position, to explain how I form my views and opinions by reading a lot and checking the facts before writing an article or replying to a mailing list/forum discussion. I also used to explain that I’m not a new Apple user (or fanboy), that I’ve been using Macs since 1989, that my decision to go Mac-only from circa 1993 on was not based on a whim, but after using other platforms and opting for the one which gave me the best user experience, the best hardware/software quality, and that ultimately worked best for me. This doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the work of other manufacturers. I love webOS, for example, and my second phone is now a Palm Pre 2. I really like what Microsoft has been doing with the Windows Phone OS and Windows 8, and so on. However, in recent times I’ve grown really tired of explaining where I come from. Those who stumble on this website can very well do their part to try to figure out who is the person writing this stuff, where he comes from, what his level of experience is.

This increasing polarisation when it comes to Apple hurts any intelligent debate. People have to understand that if someone appreciates the new iPhone 5 and is not disappointed at all by what Apple decided to include and omit, it doesn’t mean he or she has to be an Apple fanboy. This ‘us versus them’, ‘everything’s black or white’ mentality is just plain stupid, shallow and childish. And I don’t find this mentality in comment threads only. It’s also in blog posts, tech articles and pieces written by people who don’t bother to do a modicum of fact-checking before writing something that either over-celebrates or (more often) bashes Apple’s work, conduct or products.

I’m not a tech journalist, my site is not a tech news site, and I don’t feel compelled to impart my opinions on everything tech-related. As a long-time Apple user myself, it’s obvious that I often talk about Apple here. But I’ve always tried to be as objective as possible in my assessments, simply because I feel responsible towards my few readers. I’m not an Apple fan or an Apple hater. I don’t agree with every decision Apple has made in the last 20 years, I don’t love each and every piece of hardware or software Apple has introduced. At the same time I still have to see a product from an Apple competitor that has truly blown me away and convinced me to choose it over an Apple product in the same league. And I’m still open to that possibility. And I’m still waiting.

The truth is, if your job is to inform people, you should put all your personal preferences aside, check your facts, and write your piece. I feel that today, a healthy debate — especially if it involves Apple in a way or another — needs less polarisation and a more informed exchange of opinions. But to properly inform readers, tech writers should do a better job than what they’re doing now. In this field, doing your homework is getting harder, but sometimes choosing quality over speed or sheer output wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

‘Fixing’ email

Software

Recently, my attention has been directed to .Mail, which is yet another email application project that wants to “make email right”. I started using email in 1997, rather late compared to other people in my age range, and I never really had problems or experienced any kind of particular friction when using this means of communication.

A recurring argument in recent times is that email ‘needs fixing’ because we’re not living in the 1990s anymore, because we have different needs, because email is not ‘social’ enough or fashionable enough, because it has become somehow inadequate. And so on and so forth.

Email isn’t perfect, I’m not arguing that it is. But I have the feeling that all these efforts to reform this medium are focusing too much on cosmetic things. Interface and user experience are important, don’t get me wrong, but I believe there are a couple, bigger problems to address first: reliability and flexibility.

Delivered”

One of the features I like most of iOS’s and OS X’s Messages is that when a message is sent, you know it has actually reached your interlocutor because the word Delivered appears under your user icon. As I was saying on Twitter yesterday, it’s 2012 and I still have to deal with email snags and consequent misunderstandings because someone hasn’t received an email I sent, or vice-versa. This mysterious phenomenon doesn’t happen all the time, but it still happens remarkably often if we consider how much technology has otherwise advanced since the 1990s. Sometimes behind an email message apparently not received there’s a too aggressive spam filter, but in many other cases the message seems to vanish into thin air. In this regard, even fax technology is more helpful, because you always get a return receipt stating whether the transmission has been successful or not.

Perhaps it’s a matter of upgrading the protocols, but it would be wonderful that after sending an email message, a “Delivered” label (or equivalent status icon) would appear on the sent message. This would effectively put an end to that mild ’email angst’ and uncertainty that often users have. Sure, we usually take for granted that a message sent has been delivered correctly, but there’s always that one percent of doubt, quickly increasing the more time passes before the recipient replies (via email or whatever alternative means).

Related to this issue: how about an email client that translates in human language those nasty “Mailer-Daemon” or “Mail Delivery Subsystem” automated replies when something has gone wrong. Usually the contents of the message are rather cryptic or too generic to understand what happened (I know, nerds are fine with them, but I’m talking about the average user). Furthermore, very often these messages are in English, so people who don’t speak English don’t even know that there was a failure in delivering the message. It would be nice that the email client could interpret the error message by reading its status code and display a more user-friendly alert explaining the error with simple wording and in the language the user specified for the operating system. (For example: Your message to Gary Wilson was not delivered. Check the email address you entered because gary.wilsooon@example.com was not recognised. — or something like that).

I want simplicity!” — “And I want complexity!”

Another problem with email management and email clients is their lack of flexibility and adjustability. Some email clients offer too many options for certain users, or aren’t versatile enough for power users. People have surprisingly different needs when it comes to something as apparently straightforward as email. Mailsmith aficionados love its scriptability, and its powerful text and filter handling features. Other people love Sparrow because it’s simple, fast, user-friendly and it has great Gmail integration. Apple’s Mail seems to be a decent happy medium between these two, and that appeals to yet another category of users. But whatever the email client of choice, you’ll always hear people complain about something: it’s not simple enough; it doesn’t have many power options; the interface is too rigid; it creates friction in my workflow; it has Features X, Y, Z that are so useless to me and I can’t get rid of them; I want Features X, Y, Z of that other client but within my favourite email app because I don’t like that other client’s interface; etcetera, etcetera.

Wouldn’t it be great if an email client could really adjust its interface and feature set according to the user’s needs? Imagine something that starts with a minimal interface, like Sparrow’s or Reeder’s minimised layout, and that has the ability to expand according to what you want to use or display. Some sort of modular interface, adding elements as needed, and hiding them if/when not needed, so that they don’t clutter the program’s interface and confuse the user. Or something like Safari, which, again, starts simple in its default layout and configuration, but can be made more powerful, sophisticated and versatile by adding Extensions in a simple, user-friendly way. I know, it’s complicated, but in the long run it can be a more effective approach than modelling an email client based on what the developer thinks the user’s workflow is or must be.