Breaking up with the Physical World
— Originally published in Innovation Magazine, Spring 2011 —
I’m breaking up with the physical world. The analog tyranny of volume, mass and density have started cramping my style. The boundaries of physical space are making me claustrophobic, measurably restricting my imagination. The pull of gravity is holding me back, forcefully resisting my efforts to overcome this grounding in reality. My creative momentum decelerates — instead of flexing — against the weight of material limitations. The finality of physical products radiate with the anxiety of inflexibility. So I’m breaking up with the physical world. I’m moving to the digital one. I’m making my own laws of physics. I’m trading plastics for pixels.
As breakups go, this one isn’t easy. My new relationship is littered with reminders of my old one. There is a legacy of software design that strives to replicate the physical world, easing people into comprehension through physical metaphors and aging analogies. We drag documents from folders on a desktop, dropping them into a recycling bin, as if they were made of real paper. We create slides to be shown in a linear presentation as if they were held captive in the carousel of a projector. We log on to our devices with numbers as if they are protected with combination locks.
I’m left wondering if this lingering tie to the physical world is based on true compatibility, or are we just afraid to move on?
Look sideways at the notebook on your desk, the to-do list posted on your monitor and the books on your bookshelf. Let their out-of-date hairdos and bad jeans enter your consciousness. Now upgrade. Start with a simple piece of paper. Replace the static, printable text and images with dynamic, layered, malleable content, backed with the richness of the Web and enhanced by the interactions of its users. Take away the measured 8.5” x 11” constraints and the uninspired white background. Turn it into a scalable canvas, adjustable to your every need. Get rid of the idea of a final draft, a printed, uneditable copy. Make published content the beginning of a conversation, open to improvements and input, layered with conversations. Erase permanent marker, draw a perfect circle, write in a straight line — you know you’ve always wanted to. Take that single sheet of paper out of its independent existence and connect it to related content. Make it a starting point, an entryway for discovery, a contribution to a bigger creative collection.
At some point we will look back on this relationship with the physical world and wonder why we let it go on so long; seeing it with the clarity of an ex. We will look back at the last hundred years and shake our heads, thinking about why we were so obsessed with holding stories in our hands, putting music on our shelves and preserving memories on decomposable bits of film and paper.
Feeling a tinge of nostalgia? Good. By definition that means you are already putting the physical world behind you. Feel the wave of frictionless air lift your creative soul. Let the intangible possibilities permeate your mind and tickle imagination. Your own breakup has slowly begun.