December 2004
Floating Logos Project: “The poles are digitally removed from the image in order to give the illusion that the signs are disconnected from the ground as they ominously float above us.” (via)
I’ve been trying for a week or so to figure out what flickr is. I mean I know it’s a photo sharing site, but what makes it so damn interesting? Then, last night, I finally figured it out: flickr is a MMORPG.
Really, it should have been obvious, since the site is literally a MMORPG (it’s built on the old Game Neverending code, which is why you’ll see files ending in .gne on flickr). And Ludicorp says as much on their homepage (“Groupware for Play. We’re building a better platform for real time interaction online.”), but for some reason I was tricked into thinking it was more like iPhoto crossed with Friendster than Ultima Online.
Why does this make flickr successful where Friendster, Orkut, et al fall flat? I believe it’s because flickr’s designers are among the first (I can’t think of others but they surely exist) who have grokked video game design and (more to the point) figured out how to translate it to the web. What does this mean? It means that, unlike say Zoto, which is just a tool for storing and sharing photos, flickr is inherently, down-to-its-bones about play. If you look at a list of the elements of a successful game, they are all present in flickr: a sense of space to explore, a range of challenges, a range of abilities which can succeed, the need for preparation and skill, a variable feedback system.*
The most intersting part to me (as an interface designer) is how this plays out in the UI. Flickr is an example of what I think of as “vertebrate” or “narrative” or “trunk-and-branch” UI. In contrast to most web sites and apps which simply present a list of options (usually in a brutally straightforward way), flickr’s UI has a backbone. It presents a primary “plot” (upload photos and look at other people’s photos). This backbone gives users an immediate sense of the “story” of the site. But this central narrative exists in a space which allows for relatively freeform interaction, and the UI also helps nudge users off the main path with teasers like “Do you have a Cameraphone? Learn how to send photos to Flickr.” Like a video game, there’s a sense of progressive disclosure.
The downside of this style of interface is that some features are hidden. I used to reload my flickr home page until the “Do you have a blog?” teaser showed up; that was the only way I knew how to get to that feature. And flickr addresses this by including a mini-sitemap at the bottom of the screen. But the advantage is that the site feels less like an application and more like a Dungeon Master. (A role made explicit on the flickr blog for those who want a little extra hand-holding as they explore the gamespace.)
There’s lots more food for UI-design thought here, but this post is too wordy as it is. Let me just say kudos to the Ludicorp team for what they’ve built and good luck dealing with the player killers.
* List taken from A Theory of Fun for Game Design
Raph (Ultima Onine) Koster’s A Theory of Fun for Game Design is well worth checking out if you have an interest in the how and why of game design. It’s billed as Understanding Comics for video games, though I don’t think it quite lives up to that (the brilliance of Understanding Comics is in large part that it’s a demonstration; you’d have to make a game about video games to match it). Still, Raph is very smart and knows video game design. You can also check out an early comic form of the book (4.7Mb pdf).
Rajat describes the “digital photo effect” (That his ability to produce and acquire has far outstripped his ability to consume), which leads to a state where it’s difficult to enjoy/savor/experience any one photo. I’d add that, with this impoverishment of attention, organization takes the place of interaction as the locus of pleasure. We take delight in seeing the patterns in the data or in rearranging our collection so it looks different or seems more meaningful.
So, is this a bad thing? Well, I think it’s mixed. I think the loss Rajat points out is a real one, though not a new one: Walter Benjamin was talking about the the loss of “aura” way back in 1936. And, as far as I can remember, he was somewhat ambivalent about it, chronicling a profound change in the production and reception of art, pointing out both what was lost and what was gained.
So, too the current change. I may no longer put together a photo album every 5 years documenting important events in my life (losing a tooth, first day at school, senior prom), but now I am using photographs to take part in an ongoing visual piazza. Something lost, something gained.
Still, Rajat’s post made me stop and think about the loss. I want to preserve some of that contemplative time, in which as Benjamin put it “A man who concentrates before a work of art is absorbed by it.” So, I hereby resolve to contemplate something every day; to give it my full attention, if even only for a few minutes.
Speaking of Fibonacci, Rajat linked to a project he designed for IBM, with a very clever use of the Palm screenspace:
The interface design of the PIM in the Squarepusher is inspired by the Golden Rectangle. As new functions are brought into the primary workspace (the large square at the top of the display), prior functions spiral downward through progressively smaller squares until they “disappear” into the black sun in the center.Nice. (Black Sun, eh?)
I can’t tell you how many (talented) designers I’ve met who talk breathlessly about the Fibonacci Sequence and corresponding Golden Ratio (or who like to use Golden Ratios in their designs without talking about them), but can’t explain what it is. It’s like they’ve been taught that it’s important (or harmonious or whatever), but never bothered to understand. Anyhow, Dean Allen has put together a concise, extremely clear explanation called What the Hell is the Fibonacci Series?. And he ends by pardoning those who use the ratio without grokking it: “I don’t know much about math, but I know what I like.”
As of December 1, 2004, I am the father of Elias Owen-Savio. Eli is a beautiful, amazing boy. Photos to come once Nadav sleeps. Mmmmm…. sleeeep.