No Talent for Tools

Remember that when Ayla and Droog worked their materials, they were using tool-making tools to create objects that they were able to apply to the tasks of daily survival. Caught up in the spirit of innovation, Ayla therefore symbolizes all that is great about true invention. She sees how tools are empowering, and how tool-making tools are self-empowering. The decision to use a tool, though great, is not as inspiring as the commitment to build one, because building a tool is an act that advances the human spirit. You can use a tool, but others can use tools that you build.

We saw earlier that Ayla and Droog would have had little use for a voice-activated flint knapper. This because it would be solving the wrong problem. What Ayla and Droog need is more precision for their cutting and scraping tools, not an “easier way” to have them. They want better, not easier.

The image reminds me of a colleague—we’ll call him Evan—who was sawing some wood in his garage one day when I dropped by. I don’t know what compelled him to attempt this, because Evan is not a do-it-yourselfer. He’s more of a couch potato, and usually waits for everyone else to do the work before arising and offering to help. So I was kind of surprised to find him working wood.

Bruce: “Why the rag?”

Evan: “Oh, I was using it, and … damn “modern” tool … it was cutting my fingers. So I grabbed this rag.”

Bruce: “The blade was cutting your fingers?”

Evan: (showing me his bloody hand) “Yeah … look!”

Bruce: “Well how’s it going?”

Evan: “Slow, but it’s moving forward. Someday, I’ll just be able to speak, and the wood will just saw itself.”

Bruce: “Well, you know you can do that now.”

Evan: “Oh?”

Bruce: “Yeah—have the guy at the lumber yard cut it for you.”

As we chatted, I learned that Evan bought a circular saw on a whim at Homeowner’s Hell, the local hardware mega-store. He had the idea that he would use it to build a tree house for his nephew. But once he got both it and the wood home, he realized that the saw was too complicated for him to learn to use. In addition to all kinds of meaningless jargon in the manual (words like “hex wrench” and “safety guard”), he didn’t have a ground lift for the old fashioned power outlet in his 50’s garage.

Because of these obstacles, Evan just located the cutting edge component of his new purchase and began using it directly on the plywood. Manually sawing back and forth, Evan was OK except that—because it was circular—the cutting edges of the blade hurt his fingers while eating into the wood. So Evan located a cotton rag and wrapped it around his hand—just as a way of holding the blade while he cut.

Believe it or not.

Evan is a “no talent for tools” kind of a guy. Even the simple ones are beyond him, and the solutions that he arrives at—grabbing a rag to protect his hand—are in fact very creative examples of tool building. Evan can solve user interface problems (such as edges that hurt his hand) much more effectively than he can use tools designed by others. The reason is that Evan doesn’t want to change his thinking even one iota when he pursues a goal.

This brings up the entire difficult question of who these high technology interfaces are aimed at. There is the school that says high-tech and sophisticated tools are aimed at high-tech and sophisticated users—knowledge and information specialists, who need intelligent, even superhuman aids to support their creative work. This school focuses on A-ark and C-ark users—that is, people who have a set and setting that is oriented toward productivity, problem solving, and quality.

An equally vociferous contingent tenders that the less sophisticated, the downtrodden—the illiterate and less-fortunate—are the main beneficiaries of high-tech tools. This is the school that argues for the “everyday” person, the common man. This group tends to be B-ark product designers who are developing products for B-ark users. We hear things like, “Most people want to dictate because they don’t know how to type.” Or, “We need an interface that doesn’t require awkward and unnatural actions like mouse or keyboard.” An essay in my IBTBAGM book even suggests that ASR is a vital technology for the growing population of adult illiterates—it’s their only access to the information superhighway! Believe it or not.

Well Evan belongs to this last contingent. And the problem with designing tools for Evan is that we end up dumbing them down for everyone else.

And that’s a pity—since Evan rarely gets much of anything done anyway.