About a hinge.
I recently placed my pre-order for the N97, and as part of the build-up to the shipping of the device, Nokia published this video about the design of the phone available to all on their new Nseries blog. I find this video particularly interesting because of the emphasis they put into the feel and sound of the device’s slider.
A few years ago, Donald Norman shifted his usability writings into a field he likes to call “emotional design.” In his TED presentation from 2003 on the topic, he talks about looking at the qualities of objects that makes us attracted or connected to them, and how that actually makes them work better, thanks to a little thing called “psychology.” It seems as though the designers of the N97 are very much like-minded when it comes to this subject.
There’s something funny about this — and the phone slider in particular — when it comes to the current marketplace. Back when the Palm Pre was unveiled, Pete Skillman made a quick jab at the industrial design of the N95, saying there was “a lot of topological complexity” to it. The design philosophy of the Pre, it turns out, is about hiding these elements — screws, rails, ports, etc. — so that the device seems like one solid almost-magic thing.
And when looking outside at this comment, throwing away all the “let’s chase Apple” moves in the mobile industry, we know this isn’t the case. Even just one category of high-end watches lets us know that while some people may be emotionally drawn to a seamless, perfectly smooth black orb that does everything, others like to see that complexity surfaced, particularly when it is expertly done. To have an insight on how it works or how it was built. To have an understanding or a sense of wonder about the device.
When I heard the jab at the N95, I did react negatively to it. Generally, I’m the type that likes to have a fundamental understanding of how my stuff works. Think cars: you want to know what’s going wrong with your car when there’s a hiccup, yet there a millions of drivers who don’t know anything about how their car works, and don’t care to find out. However, many want to be able to open their car up, or at least feel like they could if they wanted to (even though they know they never will — it’s the “potentiality” market, i.e. those that buy Hummers).
To a certain extent, this has been the primary dividing line between the iPhone and the non-iPhone users: a certain willingness to let the phone or the software do all the work, a certain passing of control to the device, or to let the phone hide settings or features that the “average” user doesn’t need to see. Essentially, a driving minimalist aesthetic that would lead them more towards this watch that the previous linked one.
So what does this say? Well, it means that some people just prefer the more elaborate design, where the object is rich in detail and presents its intricacies at some level where someone can open it up and marvel at it.
For those people, it will be far more difficult to connect emotionally to something that deliberately hides those pieces from you. A slider that open and closes comfortably is just one part of an industrial design that clearly aims for those people.
