08 14th, 2008I’ve talked about each of these stores before. A recent visit to London gave me the opportunity to visit both within a couple of hours, which led me to think about how the experiences in them compare.
Nokia Flagship Store: Dark. Threatening. Exciting. Intense. Deep.
Apple Flagship Store: Light. Friendly. Discovery. Validating. Transparent.
Entering the Nokia store is like entering a video game: It’s not clear where you’re going, you need to explore and discover the levels of play. There’s a tension and an anticipation, an expectation that something thrilling is about to be revealed. Handsets are displayed in closed Lucite boxes or on pedestals, adding to the sense of mystique, but also to the distance. The dark palette and oddly high proportions of the ceiling (think Gothic awe) create a feeling of dominance and control that promises treasures if you explore. Reinforcing that, the ultra-high-end Vertu products are hidden at the far back of the space. On the negative side, there is too much empty space. Now what? Is there enough product here? Am I looking at the “right” things?
Entering the Apple store is like entering a great candy store: No surprises, here are the products, here are the prices. Bright, light, clear. Despite the open appearance, the store is rather fully packed. The glass stairs lead to the second level with the promise of more great things to find. Even if you never climb the stairs, you are left with the invitation, and with the sense that there is even more to delight you. There’s a validation and confirmation of your decisions; you are never left wondering if you are in the right place. You can see everything on display clearly from any point in the store.
I’m not saying that one store is “better designed” than the other. They have very different atmospheres, which is interesting.
OK, so I wasn’t going to post anything today. I certainly don’t have time to write (I must get some sleep), but couldn’t resist sharing this YouTube link. Enjoy!
Of course, that those of us who use candy-bar form phones already have random dial functionality…
[via Fortune’s Apple 2.0 blog]
Some thoughts on Fashion and Mobile Phones…
A red iPhone sounds… good. That is, if it’s the red of the Product (Red) iPod; not that bloody fingernail color of the mockup at the rumor site. Odd how a color can do that.
So, it has struck me as rather odd to now want an iPhone. The reason being (and I know how badly this comes across) is that it’s now available in (Red).
Rumours are apparently out in force that Apple is preparing a Product (Red) version of the iPhone in time for Thanks Giving [sic].
[via SMS Text News]
In the context of a discussion of the impact of fashion on mobile device purchasing, I recently realized that if — big IF — syncing were perfect and complete, I’d love to have multiple cell phones. Different colors, different styles, work, personal, whatever. One for entertainment content, one for email and/or browsing, one for heavy calling.
What do I mean by “perfect and complete”? I don’t want to think about what’s in a phone. So total synchronization of contacts, bookmarks, content (photos, videos, music), calendar, notes… EVERYTHING.
And I don’t want to move the SIM card. I just want all the phones to be paired to the lines I use as profiles (one personal, one work, one U.S.) that I can switch between (or even have all three lines coming in, toggling them off and on as desired). Let the device synchronize every couple of hours, and I’m ready to roll with whatever suits the mood.
Now we’re talking.
Charlie Kalech just twittered the prayer news that the MacBook Touch — that mythical Apple-branded touchscreen notebook computer — will hit the market by October. He links to Apple Insider (although I don’t see an item there).
I hope he’s right. I’m glad I’ve held out on upgrading my PowerBook. Is mobile computing salvation at hand? (Sorry about that.)
UPDATE July 28, 2008: I found this rumor report on the D: All Things Digital blog. I have to keep reminding myself: It’s just a rumor. Don’t get too excited. It isn’t working.
Thanks to @CharlieKalech for the tweet tip.
From the PosiMotion website:
G-Park in three easy steps:
1. Park your car and hit the Park Me! button.
2. Get lost.
3. Hit the Where Did I Park? button. Brings up Google maps and creates turn-by-turn directions that will take you right back to your car!G-Park also provides an easy-to-use interface for additional details. Available July 11 on the official iTunes App Store.
via Reaction[beta]
It looks neatly done. I’m especially happy that someone has done this, being a subject I’ve thought about for a while.
What is the “killer app” of the Apple iPhone?
I say: Scrolling.
Before you get all worked up about how much you adore Google maps and email and video, think a minute. Think about your own pleasure in using an iPhone or iPod Touch, and tell me if it isn’t really about feeling hip, feeling cool, feeling in control, and the fun of scrolling up and down lists; back and forth through album art.
Oh, all right, I’ll allow “scrolling” pictures larger and smaller by multi-touch spreading of fingers closer and farther. But that’s as far as I’ll go.
What do you say? Do you buy my argument?
Seen in Tokyo:
A pair of bumper sticker-type ads on the train doors:
+ Touch Sensor = Softbank
+ Motion Sensor = Softbank
That’s interesting to me. Not so much that Softbank is pushing a touch- and motion-sensitive phone (whoever isn’t doing that already will be soon), but that they are pushing the technology inside. Both touch and motion sensing have been around for a long time; now there is a sense [!] that consumers care that those capabilities are inside the box, much as they care about WiFi, a TV tuner, or GPS.
Wow, times have changed. Do I attribute this to the iPhone Effect? You betcha.
They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. It’s also the most sincere form of counterfeiting.
Seen in a local office supply store:
You can see the phony Shuffle just to the right.
An interesting post on the Google Code blog:
I played with some haptic feedback devices at Mobile World Congress in Barcelona last month and was really disappointed. The vibration comes from somewhere in the back of the phone — from a specific location where the vibrating buzzer is. In other words, the haptic feedback comes from a location not associated with the area with which you’re interacting. For me, it was a distraction rather than a feedback
I love the concept, but in practice it’s not there yet.
One of my interests is medical ethics. I’ve gone through much of the contemporary Orthodox bioethical literature, subscribed for many years to Lancet and New England Journal of Medicine, and am a voracious reader of all most things medical (well, dermatology’s just not my thing).
There are some advantages to reading what the professionals read: I’ve been able to help a number of family members and friends to research diagnoses and treatments, as well as benefiting from a realistic, unvarnished image of the biases and conflicts within the profession. (In the December 2000 issue of Jewish Observer I published a small piece entitled Ethics, Ethics, Everywhere, describing the efforts of my grandfather’s doctor to “let him go” after he suffered a stroke.)
I have great respect for doctors and the knowledge they carry. But they’re only people, with all the opinions, biases, and weaknesses that implies.
This week Jerusalem Post health reporter Judy Siegel reported that Samuel Golubchuk, the 84-year-old frum Jew from Winnepeg, whose doctors seek to remove him from his ventilator and feeding tube, had awakened. Mr. Golubchuk is now described as “awake, alert, has returned back to his baseline, sitting up in a chair at times, more interactive, and shaking hands purposively.”
Nevertheless his doctors still seek to kill him, and are contesting the matter in court, including moving to exclude the affidavits of experts on the grounds that they arrived too late. Apparently winning to them is more important than Mr. Golubchuk’s life. Indeed in a similar case recently in Calgary, involving an elderly Chinese man, whose family contested the doctors’ decision to cut off life support, and won, the patient eventually improved so much that he was able to walk out of the hospital and return home. Nevertheless the doctors continued to pursue an appeal. Presumably they wanted to bring him back to the hospital and kill him. [via CrossCurrents]
Jonathan Rosenblum is writing a little sarcastically here, but that shouldn’t disguise the fact that this is a really, really important case, and one which the religious Jewish community has been following closely for a week or so now. (The Golubchuk family asserts, without contradiction, that their father would want lifesaving measures taken, were he able to express himself.) I am not Canadian, and don’t know where one would begin making one’s voice heard on this issue, but I do know that we must not watch silently.
Why? Because this is not just “somebody else’s” problem. Because unless you hold deeply Galtonian Social Darwinist beliefs, it should matter to you that your own personal wishes for your care be respected. If you are, G-d forbid, ever unable to speak for yourself, you do want your Living Will to be consulted, don’t you? And you would like to have the person to whom you’ve granted power of attorney for healthcare matters consulted and their decisions followed, don’t you?
There’s a tricky side to this: vulnerability.
A GUI (graphical user interface) that offers too many options is just plain overwhelming. Keeping the interface simple and straightforward reduces stress, encourages uptake, and is conducive to a more positive user experience. It is not easy to create an interface that is simple and straightforward, and at the same time offers powerful user control over details (Apple is remarkable for their ability to successfully design software this way).
Now think about a person whose “task function” is to make life-and-death decisions on behalf of someone they love very deeply. Even a well-prepared child will not find it easy to decide whether it is kinder to “stop the suffering” or to “do everything possible” or something in between. Under stressful conditions, the burden is almost unbearable. Following the advice of a knowledgeable doctor is the equivalent of simplifying the GUI. It makes the decisions straightforward and far simpler, while reducing the burden of responsibility. And the doctor should know, right?
Well… there’s the rub.
