Tomorrow the influential New Media Days conference is taking off in Copenhagen, and I've been invited to sit in on a panel about mobile apps. It's looking to be one of the most popular slots of the conference, and why wouldn't it? Mobile apps is a hot topic in the media world right now. Many media organizations are looking to cover lost revenue by releasing apps for the popular platforms, but there are many strategies, technologies etc. to consider.
Obviously I'll be sharing some insight from our work with
Issuu Mobile. For a while I've been following what is happening in the mobile space as Apple gets even more protective, Android rages onwards, the new Windows Mobile is released, and open HTML app stores starts to emerge.
But why apps? What's so special about them?
First, there's of course the ecosystem of the app stores, being on the featured and popular lists, being available and discoverable. It can make or break a business to be included in the app store. Second, a native app still outperforms browser-based apps and are not necessarily as dependent on connectivity.
But after giving this some thought, I believe there's a much deeper cultural reason behind the rise and rise of mobile apps. I was reading about the initiator of the Macintosh program at Apple, Jef Raskin, a true renaissance man who believed household computing ultimately should be about information appliance:
What is desired is for the computer to become an appliance, but not a mere appliance. Its presence must be taken for granted by its user, but in the long run, the act of programming itself must be taken for granted as well.
In the short run it will be, if successful, an information appliance.
In other words, the computer was envisioned as a tool. Part of what sets man apart from beasts is our unmatched ability to produce and operate elaborate tools. And I believe that we're most comfortable with tools that have just one or a few functions, e.g. there's a unity between the artefact and the function ("the hammer is used for nails").
The early computers were in essence raw computing power and unknown potential. It alienated the majority of people. But interfaces were tried and developed, usability was improved, and a few decades later most households actually had a computer although there was still a steep learning curve for many.
But when the iPhone was introduced, it was in a sense a leap towards making the computer look and perform like a genuine tool: The computer was now handy and pocket-size, just like a tool should be. You would use your hands to operate it, not a stylus; which would be like using a tool to operate a tool. Think about how prominent Apple today has made the touchpad on their computers. The hands are obviously the best way to operate a computer, because in a sense you are 'touching the software' and it's a comforting way of interacting with technology.
And, finally, the iPhone had apps as the main method of 'programming'. It's information appliance in its purest form: Once you launch an app it takes over the information layer and the interaction interface entirely. Once again there's a closer unity between the artefact and the function as most apps are designed with a single purpose in mind. The smartphone is a multipurpose device, yes, but in reality it's a device built for rapid execution of a series of single purpose applications. And I think that's why it's so hugely successful, because we as people seem to relate to that profoundly.
The one element that remains is the tactile feedback and response to touch, that we've come to expect from most other tools. Example: You know that once you pick up your hammer, it feels and acts like a hammer. You could almost say that the hammer 'touches you back' when resting in your hand. I think that's why touch keys will always give you that weird, alienated sensation, mainly because it didn't feel like pressing a key. Yes, the screen told me the key was pressed, and maybe the vibrator even confirmed it, but surely it didn't feel like pressing a key.
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