Is IT Too Complex?
A call for simplicity in everyday things
Tribute to Don Norman
An article in the November 2005 issue of the Harvard Business Review [Innovation Versus Complexity: What Is Too Much of a Good Thing?] shows how excessively complex product or service offerings can be counter-productive. It explains how to find the right balance between a single product offering (e.g. Ford Model T) and extensive product lines that companies develop to compete for shelf space, to protect market share or to counter competitive assaults.
However, there is a domain where the punishment for excessive complexity is less visible on the bottom line: software. Upstream, software complexity increases development costs (but these are on-time expenses) and, downstream, the support costs (but these are proportional to sales and, therefore, they don’t impact the profit ratio after a critical mass is reached). Compared with a simple software program, a complex package doesn’t cost (much) more to manufacture, to stock and to distribute. Where bits are more important than atoms, such costs are marginal. So, the penalty for software complexity is minimal, isn’t it?
I think this is one of the main reasons why we, ‘end-users’, are getting bloated things to communicate, organize our work and manage information. Quick test: what percent of the features of your favorite word processor, mobile phone, PDA and other similar things do you use on a regular basis?
What are the functions enjoyed by a majority of users and what are the intricate features understood only by a minority? We’re probably in one of the situations where 80% or more of the users need 20% or less of the functions.
The word processor I ‘m using right now offers 19 different toolbars. I use only three of them (16%) and yet my application window looks like the cockpit of a jumbo jet with close to 100 pictograms, buttons and symbols, without counting the nine pull-down menus in the upper bar, each with about ten commands: another 100 items. Over 200 items to choose from just to write a memo and, sometimes, add a little drawing. That’s insane!
My keyboard is a big as an aircraft carrier and contains about 50 keys that I never ever use (I don’t know what most of them do). Do the test with your own keyboard.
My mobile phone features 11 menus, each with about ten functions: that’s again over 100 items. Compared with a plain old telephone, the only extra functions I use are the address book, text messaging (mainly inbound because I hate having to use a numeric keyboard to write text) and taking the occasional picture.
Why do we have to schlep all this functional overweight that clutters our things’ screens and memories? About 10 … 15 years ago, leaders of the IT industry dreamt up concepts and standards to enable ‘component software’, i.e. the possibility for a user to buy a lightweight basic application (such as a simple word processor) and to attach to it just the additional functions that are needed (e.g. a spelling checker, a drawing utility, and so on). The problem was that such a scheme assumed that small software publishers could focus on a few functional areas (e.g. develop really intuitive spelling checkers), excel in them (pun intended) and carve market niches in coexistence with the big vendors. Guess what happened (apart from a few exceptions). The big guys preferred to create bloated applications including the above mentioned overweight (and the proverbial kitchen sink) rather than opening the door to small competitors.
The problem is that the technologies for processors, memories and other semiconductor products evolve much faster than the industry’s ability to harness them with software. Unfortunately, today, software complexity is proportional to hardware power. While using an Apple II of the early 1980s was like riding a bicycle, mastering a PC, 25 years later, requires the training of an aircraft pilot (see post “Wings for the Mind” in this blog).
Unfortunately, today, the term ‘easy to use’ is overused. Find me an ad where a company presents a product as ‘hard to use’. The main objective of software designers should be to make an application’s usage really intuitive rather than adding obscure functions that few people want and even fewer need.
A ray of hope: Apple’s iTunes is much better than the average software I have had on my PC for years. Only six main menu items that you don’t really need to pull down to run the application. Only 13 buttons, of which six are absolutely intuitive. A fantastic product that I enjoy everyday. I hope Mr Gates uses iTunes and gets inspired by it. Does Apple still have the magic touch or do we need a new seed?
Tribute to Don Norman
An article in the November 2005 issue of the Harvard Business Review [Innovation Versus Complexity: What Is Too Much of a Good Thing?] shows how excessively complex product or service offerings can be counter-productive. It explains how to find the right balance between a single product offering (e.g. Ford Model T) and extensive product lines that companies develop to compete for shelf space, to protect market share or to counter competitive assaults.
However, there is a domain where the punishment for excessive complexity is less visible on the bottom line: software. Upstream, software complexity increases development costs (but these are on-time expenses) and, downstream, the support costs (but these are proportional to sales and, therefore, they don’t impact the profit ratio after a critical mass is reached). Compared with a simple software program, a complex package doesn’t cost (much) more to manufacture, to stock and to distribute. Where bits are more important than atoms, such costs are marginal. So, the penalty for software complexity is minimal, isn’t it?
I think this is one of the main reasons why we, ‘end-users’, are getting bloated things to communicate, organize our work and manage information. Quick test: what percent of the features of your favorite word processor, mobile phone, PDA and other similar things do you use on a regular basis?
What are the functions enjoyed by a majority of users and what are the intricate features understood only by a minority? We’re probably in one of the situations where 80% or more of the users need 20% or less of the functions.
The word processor I ‘m using right now offers 19 different toolbars. I use only three of them (16%) and yet my application window looks like the cockpit of a jumbo jet with close to 100 pictograms, buttons and symbols, without counting the nine pull-down menus in the upper bar, each with about ten commands: another 100 items. Over 200 items to choose from just to write a memo and, sometimes, add a little drawing. That’s insane!
My keyboard is a big as an aircraft carrier and contains about 50 keys that I never ever use (I don’t know what most of them do). Do the test with your own keyboard.
My mobile phone features 11 menus, each with about ten functions: that’s again over 100 items. Compared with a plain old telephone, the only extra functions I use are the address book, text messaging (mainly inbound because I hate having to use a numeric keyboard to write text) and taking the occasional picture.
Why do we have to schlep all this functional overweight that clutters our things’ screens and memories? About 10 … 15 years ago, leaders of the IT industry dreamt up concepts and standards to enable ‘component software’, i.e. the possibility for a user to buy a lightweight basic application (such as a simple word processor) and to attach to it just the additional functions that are needed (e.g. a spelling checker, a drawing utility, and so on). The problem was that such a scheme assumed that small software publishers could focus on a few functional areas (e.g. develop really intuitive spelling checkers), excel in them (pun intended) and carve market niches in coexistence with the big vendors. Guess what happened (apart from a few exceptions). The big guys preferred to create bloated applications including the above mentioned overweight (and the proverbial kitchen sink) rather than opening the door to small competitors.
The problem is that the technologies for processors, memories and other semiconductor products evolve much faster than the industry’s ability to harness them with software. Unfortunately, today, software complexity is proportional to hardware power. While using an Apple II of the early 1980s was like riding a bicycle, mastering a PC, 25 years later, requires the training of an aircraft pilot (see post “Wings for the Mind” in this blog).
Unfortunately, today, the term ‘easy to use’ is overused. Find me an ad where a company presents a product as ‘hard to use’. The main objective of software designers should be to make an application’s usage really intuitive rather than adding obscure functions that few people want and even fewer need.
A ray of hope: Apple’s iTunes is much better than the average software I have had on my PC for years. Only six main menu items that you don’t really need to pull down to run the application. Only 13 buttons, of which six are absolutely intuitive. A fantastic product that I enjoy everyday. I hope Mr Gates uses iTunes and gets inspired by it. Does Apple still have the magic touch or do we need a new seed?
Henri Aebischer
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