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There are plenty of engineers who worked hard and deserve credit, but there are also thousands of people labelling elbows in photos and judging the emotion of internet comments.

Over the past six months, I spoke with more than two dozen annotators from around the world, and while many of them were training cutting-edge chatbots, just as many were doing the mundane manual labor required to keep AI running. There are people classifying the emotional content of TikTok videos, new variants of email spam, and the precise sexual provocativeness of online ads. Others are looking at credit-card transactions and figuring out what sort of purchase they relate to or checking e-commerce recommendations and deciding whether that shirt is really something you might like after buying that other shirt. Humans are correcting customer-service chatbots, listening to Alexa requests, and categorizing the emotions of people on video calls. They are labeling food so that smart refrigerators don’t get confused by new packaging, checking automated security cameras before sounding alarms, and identifying corn for baffled autonomous tractors.

In recent years Sketch’s Mac-ness has become a liability. Requiring every person in a large design organization to use a Mac is not an easy sell. Plus, a new generation of “internet native” users expect different things from their software than old-school Mac connoisseurs: Multiplayer editing, inline commenting, and cloud sync are now table-stakes for any successful creative app.

At the time of Sketch’s launch most UX designers were using Photoshop or Illustrator. Both were expensive and overwrought, and neither were actually created for UX design. Sketch’s innovation wasn’t any particular feature — if anything it was the lack of features. It did a few things really well, and those were exactly the things UX designers wanted. In that way it really embodied the Mac ethos: simple, single-purpose, and fun to use.

Apple pushed hard to attract artists, filmmakers, musicians, and other creative professionals. It started a virtuous cycle. More creatives using Macs meant more potential customers for creative Mac software, which meant more developers started building that software, which in turn attracted even more customers to the platform.And so the Mac ended up with an abundance of improbably-good creative tools. Usually these apps weren’t as feature-rich or powerful as their PC counterparts, but were faster and easier and cheaper and just overall more conducive to the creative process.

Apple is still very interested in selling Macs — precision-milled aluminum computers with custom-designed chips and “XDR” screens. But they no longer care much about The Mac: The operating system, the software platform, its design sensibilities, its unique features, its vibes.

The term-of-art for this style is “skeuomorphism”: modern designs inspired by their antecedents — calculator apps that look like calculators, password-entry fields that look like bank vaults, reminders that look like sticky notes, etc.This skeuomorphic playfulness made downloading a new Mac app delightful. The discomfort of opening a new unfamiliar piece of software was totally offset by the joy of seeing a glossy pixel-perfect rendition of a bookshelf or a bodega or a poker table, complete with surprising little animations.

There are literally dozens of ways to develop cross-platform apps, including Apple’s own Catalyst — but so far, none of these tools can create anything quite as polished as native implementations.So it comes down to user preference: Would you rather have the absolute best app experience, or do you want the ability to use an acceptably-functional app from any of your devices? It seems that users have shifted to prefer the latter.

Unfortunately the appeal of native Mac software was, at its core, driven by brand strategy. Mac users were sold on the idea that they were buying not just a device but an ecosystem, an experience. Apple extended this branding for third-party developers with its yearly Apple Design Awards.

for the first time since the introduction of the original Mac, they’re just computers. Yes, they were technically always “just computers”, but they used to feel like something bigger. Now Macs have become just another way, perhaps the best way, to use Slack or VSCode or Figma or Chrome or Excel.

visionOS’s story diverges from that of the Mac. Apple is no longer a scrappy upstart. Rather, they’re the largest company in the world by market cap. It’s not so much that Apple doesn’t care about indie developers anymore, it’s just that indie developers often end up as the ants crushed beneath Apple’s giant corporate feet.

I think we’ll see a lot of cool indie software for visionOS, but also I think most of it will be small utilities or toys. It takes a lot of effort to build and support apps that people rely on for their productivity or creativity. If even the wildly-popular Mac platform can’t support those kinds of projects anymore, what chance does a luxury headset have?

Luke Wroblewski posted an interesting side-by-side comparison of the Today view, Control Center, and standard sharing sheets in iOS 7 and the iOS 10 public beta. Much less transparency, more solid shapes in place of outlines, and more use of color.

VidCon has “gone from weirdos to entrepreneurs.”Young people have increasingly turned to online video for entertainment. During the pandemic lockdown in 2020, digital content on platforms like YouTube and TikTok dominated, which experts at VidCon said helped propel digital media as a serious form of entertainment.

Digital-first talent are the power players today

It really drove people into watching creators, not as a hobby thing but as another linear option,” said Joe Gagliese, CEO of Viral Nation, an influencer marketing and talent management company.

creators are no longer just using social media as a jumping off point for bigger stardom. Instead, online content is the end goal. Over the years, content creation has become a serious and feasible career option for many.

Hecox said that toward the end of his and Padilla’s initial partnership, they gave priority to production quality in a way their audience didn’t like.“We had strayed too far away from digital and we started looking more like TV, and I think people didn’t connect with that,” Hecox said.

Instead of stretching themselves thin to fit a traditional mold, they've redirected their focus to their roots and what fans liked the best.

The VP in charge of Google Plus hosted the Friday all-hands several times to get us all excited about what they were building. It was obvious to me and many others that there was no reason for people already on Facebook to switch from Facebook. Someone asked a direct question, but the VP deflected and talked about how easy it would be to group your friends with the Circles feature — which was not at all a reason to switch.It seemed like Google didn’t have the processes or experience to get the product strategy right. “Who are our potential users and what does it take to win them?” is product strategy 101. Maybe someone raised this question in an exec review, but it didn’t become a launch blocker. Google+ never took off, and was eventually shut down.

If Google didn’t start with a conviction that they needed the product, it makes sense that they wouldn’t have the stamina to keep iterating and investing. Most other companies don’t have the money to build and launch products with such little conviction and oversight. Other companies need their products to succeed, so they try harder & smarter to make the products successful.

IME people often don’t realize that product strategies are actually way more important and influential than company strategies. Simply because it’s the products that have an impact on people’s lives, not the company.

Google has a company strategy, but they don’t make product strategies.

Google’s company strategy is “Hire all the smart people.” Hire all the smart people and let them build. Hire all the smart people so they can’t work at a competitor. Hire all the smart people even if we don’t have something important for them to work on.Google acts like a venture capitalist, investing in promising people with the expectation that most will fail. They invest broadly in search of the idea that will deliver 100x. Let 1000 flowers bloom, and see which are the best.

The priority, though, as you will have assumed, is not the movie’s people but its stunning formal ravishment, filled with gleaming ’50s modernisms set against luridly painted desert mesas and blazing teal skies, every shot an irradiated postcard from a sun-scorched pastel past, or an imaginary travel ad painted by the late Bruce McCall. Anderson structures his action around this design, horizontally, with whole scenes, and much of the comedy, captured in wide-screen swivels and stretch pans that often loop a complete 360 degrees. Some shots suggest a Lego formality, others recall late ’60s Godard. As an eye assault, it’s a thing of wonder.

I once had a student who, being on the autism spectrum, opined that Anderson’s films, with their regularized lack of modulation and love of symmetry and distance, and studied emotional coolness, are at least works that reflect the spectrum’s worldview.

Lately, I’ve been summing up Ellul’s technique by describing it as the relentless drive to optimize all human experience for efficiency. But Ellul also helped us out with another more felicitous phrasing. He referred to technique as the search for the “one best way.” So, for example, in The Technological Society Ellul wrote, “This ‘one best way’ becomes a dogma that applies to increasingly more aspects of life. This destroys choice. Nothing can compete with technique.”

One under-appreciated consequence of believing there is such a thing as the “one best way” in every aspect of life is subsequently living with the unyielding pressure to discover it and the inevitable and perpetual frustration of failing to achieve it. And not only frustration. It produces anxiety, fear, compulsiveness, resignation, and, ultimately, self-loathing. If there is “one best way,” how will I know it? If I have not found it, have I failed? And is it my fault?

the human person becomes “prey to a permanent panic that he is unable to translate into personal action.”

I think, for example, of how social media, in its form and content, became just another way to optimize the self and its relations. We were subjected to techniques designed to optimize for compulsive engagement and we ourselves internalized the logic in the way we learned to conduct ourselves online. And is there any more dispiriting word in the English tongue than “gamification.”

Digital tools have made it possible to measure, quantify, analyze, and regiment ever larger swaths of human experience, and so often with the implicit promise of disclosing the “one best way.”

(Interestingly, given the way “AI” is often marketed, we might understand it as digital technology’s compensatory complement to the more relentless forms of technique it has enabled. It promises to humanize the techniques by relieving us of some of the most tedious forms of work, personalizing the coping mechanisms, or giving us new tools for “creativity,” but without ever questioning the logic of the system.)

the very tools that promise to disclose the “one best way” are like two-way mirrors, they allow us to see but also to be seen. They promise to empower us to optimize our lives for the sake of our self-chosen goals, while empowering those who would condition and optimize us for their profit.

I look around the room and I see a laundry basket in need of optimization, an unsatisfactory rug, house plants that should be growing more. I need better tupperware, a kitchen remodel, some trick to clean my exterior windows that isn’t just me spending hours cleaning my exterior windows. Instead of looking around my living space with gratitude for the soft comfort I’ve built for myself, inflected with my peculiar tastes and preferences, I see lack. And that dissatisfaction becomes a sort of lingering fog, dampening my experience of the world.

The scroll doesn’t make you feel jealous, per se. I don’t even think it makes you feel shame, at least not in the way we usually think of it. It’s aspirational: it makes you feel like if you could just find the capital and discipline, you could touch perfection too.

Remodeling is the attempt to find “the one best way” with our physical spaces; wellness culture is “the one best way” with our bodies; productivity culture is “the one best way” with our work lives. And like all quests for optimization, they’re sinkholes.

If you’re an interior designer, if you see home space as an artistic tapestry, I get this; I believe you. But I also believe that we’ve collectively become very good at mistaking the feelings of optimization, organization, and control for fun. Organizing your fridge is not fun. Neither is watching someone do it. It is satisfying, and it is satisfying because it offers a flicker of control amidst the natural and amplified chaos of our lives.

instead of directing attention and energy towards the sort of structures that could make us feel less insecure — whether unions or deeper friendships or school year reform — we focus it on the self and the space around it.

But the very idea that we can “fix” this mindset is, well, optimization culture. “Fixing” suggests altering or shifting the existing parts. This bullshit requires dismantlement. But what does that even begin to look like? For me, it’s looking at my body, my self, and my spaces through the eyes of a friend who loves me the most. It’s extending that posture of grace for others. It’s talking back at the part of me that worries something is “off-trend” or will “look dated.” It’s finding that busted-ass coffee maker funny. Annoying, sure, but annoyances are part of the rich tapestry of life. It’s figuring out the parts of my living space that are precious to me, as we did in the Friday thread this week, and extending that feeling. Not the cost, not the aesthetic, but the feeling.

It’s remembering, over and over again, what a blessing it is to be simply, overwhelmingly, satisfied.

I've noticed that most devs, anyway, are either front-loaded or back-loaded."Front-loaded" means that the part of a project they really enjoy is the beginning part, design work, etc. Once those problems are largely worked out, the project becomes less interesting to them. A common refrain from this personality is "the rest is just implementation details"."Back-loaded" is the opposite of that. They hate the initial work of a project and prefer to do the implementation details, after the road is mapped out.Both sorts of devs are critical. Could it be that you're a front-loaded sort? If so, maybe the thing to do is to bring in someone who's back-loaded and work on the projects together?

Even if it's just a personal project, think about the time and money you'll need to invest, and the benefits and value it will provide. Think on why you should prioritize this over other tasks or existing projects. Most importantly, sleep on it. Get away from it and do something else. Spend at least a couple of days on and off planning it. Outline and prioritize features and tasks. Decide on the most important ones and define the MVP. If, after this planning process, you still feel motivated to pursue the project, go ahead!

Quick win is to ask yourself: What have I learned from this project? And make that the result of the project.

Find a job/role/gig where you think of the solutions and let other people implement them. Just always remember that it is no longer your project. You might have thought of something, but without the efforts of others it will never amount to anything, ever. So as long as you can respect the work of others and your own limitations in doing what they do you will do fine.

Find more challenging problems. I usually do this by trying to expand something that spiked my interest to make it more generically applicable or asking myself if the problem is actually worth a solution ('faster horses') and if the underlying problem is not more interesting (mobility).

it helps to promise other people something: Present your findings, write a paper, make a POC by an agreed upon deadline. Now you have to be empatic enough to want to meet their deadline and thus create what you promised with all the works that comes with it. That is your result. You also have to be selfish enough to tell people that is where you end your involvement, because it no longer interests you, regardless of the plans they have pursuing this further

The purpose of education is to socialise human beings into a life of complete institutional dependency. School teaches you that justice must come from someone in institutional authority, that meaningful activity must come from a ‘career path,’ that if you want to express yourself you must first gain access to centralised speech platforms,1 that if you want to do something, you must first of all gain a licence or a qualification and that, above all, your own desires and instincts are invalid.

People forget that when Bezos introduced Amazon Prime, Wall St. flipped out, because they insisted that it would cost way too much for too little benefit. But, through it all Amazon survived (and thrived) because Bezos just kept telling investors exactly what his plan was, and never backed down, no matter what Wall St. kept saying to him.

This is too easily forgotten, but your users are everything if you run an internet business. They’re not “the product.” They’re what makes your site useful and valuable, and often provide the best marketing you could never buy by convincing others to join and providing you with all of the best ideas on how to improve things and make your service even better for the users. The moment you’re undermining your own community, you’re beginning to spiral downward.

As you’re developing a business model, the best way to make sure that you’re serving your users best, and not enshittifying everything, is to constantly make sure that you’re only capturing some of the value you’re creating, and are instead putting much more out into the world, especially for your community.

Push the power to make your service better out from the service to the users themselves and watch what they do. Let them build. Let them improve your service. Let them make it work better for you. But, you have to have some trust here. If you’re focused on “Rule 3” you have to recognize that sometimes your users will create value that you don’t capture. Or even that someone else captures. But in the long run, it still flows back to you, as it makes your service that much more valuable.

If you’re charging for something that was once free, you’re taking away value from your community. You’re changing the nature of the bargain, and ripping away the trust that your community put in you. Instead, always look for something new that is worth paying for above and beyond what you already offered.

There are ways to monetize that don’t need to overwhelm, that don’t need to suck up every bit of data, that don’t need to rely on taking away features users relied on. Focus on adding more scarce value, and figuring out ways to charge for those new things which can’t be easily replicated.

You start learning acronyms like “ARPU” (average revenue per user) and such. And then you’re being measured on how much you’re increasing those metrics, which means you need to squeeze more out of each individual user, and you’re now deep within the enshittification stage, in which you’re trying to squeeze your users for more money each quarter (because now everything is judged in how well you did in the last 3 months to improve that number).

There is the "just asking questions" rhetorical trick, where someone asks something that sounds a lot like an outlandish assertion, and then defends themselves by suggesting they don't actually believe this thing — they're just asking if maybe it's worth considering.

There is also the “firehose” trick, which essentially amounts to saying so many untrue things in such a short period of time that refuting them all is nearly impossible.

Much more difficult, for all of us, is to engage the best ideas you disagree with, think about them honestly, and explain clearly why you don't agree. And even more difficult is to debate honestly, discover that the other person has made stronger arguments, adapt your position and grow.

Omitting key information in arguments, or omitting counter-evidence to central claims, is just one bad argument style that is common in politics.

The curse of whataboutism is that we can often do it forever. If you want to talk about White House nepotism, it'd take weeks (or years) to properly adjudicate all the instances in American history, and it would get us nowhere but to excuse the behavior of our own team. That is, of course, typically how this tactic is employed.

Bothsidesism: Naturally, this is what I get accused of the most. I'd describe bothsidesism as a cousin of whataboutism. Wikipedia defines it as "a media bias in which journalists present an issue as being more balanced between opposing viewpoints than the evidence supports." An example might be presenting a debate about human-caused climate change and giving equal air time to two sides: Humans are causing climate change vs. humans aren't causing climate change.Given that the scientific consensus on climate change is robust, arranging an argument this way would lend credence to the idea that scientists (or people in general) are evenly divided on the issue, even though they aren't.

A straw man argument is when you build an argument that looks like, but is different than, the one the other person is making — like a straw man of their argument. You then easily defeat that argument, because it’s a weaker version of the actual argument.For instance, in a debate on immigration, I recently made the argument that we should pair more agents at the border with more legal opportunities to immigrate here, a pretty standard moderate position on immigration. I was arguing with someone who was on the very left side of the immigration debate, and they responded by saying something along the lines of, "The last thing we need is more border agents shooting migrants on the border."Of course, my argument isn't for border agents to shoot migrants trying to cross into the U.S., which is a reprehensible idea that I abhor. This is a straw man argument: Distorting an opposing argument to make it weaker and thus easier to defeat.

"The straw man is a terrible argument nobody really holds, which was only invented so your side had something easy to defeat. The weak man is a terrible argument that only a few unrepresentative people hold, which was only brought to prominence so your side had something easy to defeat."

This is classic moving of the goalposts. We went from “there weren't classified documents” to “they were classified but not that serious” to “they may have been classified but the raid was unjust unless there were nuclear secrets” to "okay, but he wasn’t selling the nuclear secrets to Russia."

The "prove a negative" argument is when someone insists that you prove to them something didn't happen or isn't true, which implies that they have evidence something did happen or is true — but they don’t actually present that evidence.For instance, if I asked you to prove that aliens don't exist, you might have a hard time doing it. Sure, you could argue that we don't have an alien body locked up in some government facility (or do we?), but you’d have a hard time listing the contents of every government facility. And if you could somehow do that, you haven’t proved that aliens don't exist at all, or even that they've never been to Earth. But the burden of proof isn't on you to show me that aliens don't exist, it's for me to show you evidence that they do.This was, in my experience, one of the most frustrating things about some of the early claims that the 2020 election was stolen. A lot of people were alleging that Dominion Voting Systems was flipping votes from Trump to Biden, and then insisting that someone must prove this didn't happen. But the burden of proof was not to show that it didn't happen (proving a negative), it was to show that it did happen. Which nobody ever did.

When I started my career 3G was the hot topic, and every investor kept asking ‘what’s the killer app for 3G?’ It turned out that the killer app for having the internet in your pocket was, well, having the internet in your pocket. But with each of those, we knew what to build next, and with VR we don’t. That tells me that VR has a place in the future. It just doesn’t tell me what kind of place.

The successor to the smartphone will be something that doesn’t just merge AR and VR but make the distinction irrelevant - something that you can wear all day every day, and that can seamlessly both occlude and supplement the real world and generate indistinguishable volumetric space.

The authors suggest that the motivating power of work-to-unlock rewards arises because these rewards (1) naturally encourage consumers to set an attainable goal to start earning rewards, motivating consumers initially through goal setting and (2) keep consumers engaged after reaching this goal due to low perceived progress in earning rewards. A work-to-unlock reward structure increases persistence relative to standard continuous rewards across a variety of consumer-relevant domains (e.g., exercising, flossing, evaluating products), and even when work-to-unlock rewards offer rewards of a lower magnitude. Further, a work-to-unlock reward structure outperforms other reward structures that encourage goal setting. Lastly, the authors identify a theoretically consistent boundary condition of this effect: the length of the unlocking period.

Our research disentangles the direct and indirect impact (via consumers' perceptions of materials' naturalness, product authenticity, and product durability) of low-saturation colors on the perceived eco-friendliness of consumer products. Furthermore, the results reveal that, by fostering perceptions of eco-friendliness and green trust, such colors favorably influence consumers' behavioral intentions (i.e., their purchase intention and intention to pay a premium price for the product). Ultimately, the paper provides useful insights for companies and marketers interested in leveraging the meaning of color saturation to elicit perceptions of environmental compatibility.