The Restless Mind

If you’re a Clay Shirky fan you’re probably aware that he’s published a new book called Here Comes Everybody, a collection of observations and examples on how the Internet is enabling group action in fundamentally transformative ways.

Shirky spoke at O’Reilly’s Web2.0 conference last week and spun a thread from his text on “cognitive surplus.” (Text here. Video here.) His thesis is that in order to grapple with a particularly stressful stretch of time, society engages in some mind-numbing activity that, by consequence, creates a cognitive surplus. Eventually, this surplus overflows and new forms of value are created. He cites post-industrial revolution Londoners blanking out with gin, only to then build many of the modern institutions we cherish today, and post-WWII Americans sitting slack-jawed watching I Love Lucy and Gilligan’s Island, but now using the Internet to produce Wikipedia and, to a lesser order, lolcats.

A lot of folks dissed Shirky for his optimistic view of the grid and his pessimistic take on television. But I think the contrast is more for entertainment. His core argument makes perfect sense:

“…the cognitive surplus…is…so large that even a small change could have huge ramifications. Let’s say that everything stays 99 percent the same, that people watch 99 percent as much television as they used to, but 1 percent of that is carved out for producing and for sharing. The Internet-connected population watches roughly a trillion hours of TV a year. That’s about five times the size of the annual U.S. consumption. One per cent of that is 100 Wikipedia projects per year worth of participation.”

What struck me as intriguing in all this wasn’t our cognitive surplus, though. It’s our surplus of interaction.

Society has always had cognitive surplus—just unevenly distributed among the rich, the educated, or the professions. Aggregating it to the Internet changes that, of course. Centralized information spreads the value and, like compound interest, generates steady returns over time. The more people who chip in to create, upload, and share, the better the returns.

Interaction surplus, though, is new. From RSS to email, flickr to FunWalls, posts to pingbacks—we’ve never before had to deal with an abundance of two-way interaction. And unlike the subtle effect of compound interest, hooking more people up to the grid creates a personalized form of Metcalfe’s law, a signal to noise ratio that is overwhelming and, over time, numbing. Watching “connected consumers” tweet, IM, tag, upload, download and go viral is not much different than a Saturday night rave: a blur of consciousness, ephemera, and not a little dizziness.

That people use an interactive medium to become passive and numb is a tad ironic. While Shirky reflects on the upside of just 1% of us adding to a wiki and becoming active contributors to the matrix, I’m thinking of how 99% of us turn to it, consciously or unconsciously, for the same reasons we drink gin or watch Friends: to mask the pain, boredom, or drag of life.

This isn’t good or bad in that the grid doesn’t care why you engage with it so much as you include yourself as a node. Technology is always neutral. It’s us that are busy automating our neurosis and anxiety.

Khoi Vinh, art director of The New York Times online, was recently interviewed by design chronicler Stephen Heller. Vinh, always thoughtful, is bang on with this comment about the shift from “designing inward to outward:”

We’re entering a new era of design where the brands and experiences we create are no longer closely held, highly controlled cathedrals, but rather bazaars of commerce and conversation. Historically, graphic design has been a discipline that deals in control, in creating carefully managed, organized experiences that are then distributed to people to be consumed in whole. Digital media has upended that equation, and now—yes—the audience is an active participant in the process of design.

In fact, the process is now a conversation between designers and users.

That last sentence reminded me of MIT Professor Donald Schön’s observation that design is a “conversation with materials.” In many ways users have become “materials” as much as participants. We not only engage them explicitly through interaction design to create discrete features, but also in aggregate as social systems and platforms amplify their implicit actions to create value.

Flickr’s a good example of both these kinds of “conversations.” Their perpetual beta is nothing if not an active, explicit dialogue with members to remove friction from, or add features to, the system. And “interestingness,” their intelligent aggregator that surfaces the most promising photos from the database, is, in essence, a “conversation with materials” in that the algorithm constantly jockeys members implicit behavior into new value. It automates the conversation Vinh describes into a never-ending telepathic exchange that asks nothing of the user, if only to watch over their shoulder and make some notes.

In that respect, the flickr team is both engaged in a conversation while simultaneously designing the conversation. As my pal Jeff Faulkner would say, “they’re designing the thing, and the thing about the thing.”

If that notion seems tricky to grasp—or at least master—it gets even trickier when you think about designing “on brand.” Tomorrow’s designers not only have to think about how to engage their users and interpret their actions into features or systems, they have to consider how the results reinforce the brand—a particular kind of relationship—and the quality, tempo, and durability of the exchange.

Look at how LastFM, which deals with recording artists with whom you have no direct relationship, lets you “ban” a song from your playlist. Flickr has no such mechanism baked into a member’s photo page feature set. You can “fave” a photo, but you can’t explicitly use the system to denigrate a contribution. And why should you? Flickr relies on almost 70 percent of their users to publicly share their photos and build on their brand promise to “see the world.” If you share a photo—a little piece of you—are you incented to share more if visitors are actively encouraged to hurt your feelings?

The end game in Vinh’s comments is that we’re not just designing the bazaars of conversation—we’re designing the conversation itself. We’re specifying often intangible and implicit nuances of how people interact and create value together.

That’s hard work. If relationship design is ambigous and complex, so are the relationships between the designers. Interface, systems, interaction, aesthetics—rarely are these talents invested in one person who can birth a solution outright. Rather, in an ironic twist, the architects of participation must first be able to grok their own relationships and sort out “the thing” or “the thing about the thing” before they engage their community.

Update: An eloquent and vivid example of visualizing “the relationship of relationships.” Via Danah.

Image: Mike Rohde, SXSWi 2008 sketches