Learning about design from Omata
What a little device is teaching me about technology design
The boring way to describe Omata is ‘a bike computer’, or ‘a GPS-enabled cycling device’. But it’s much more interesting than that, and has me reflecting on good technology design.
For the past few months I’ve been riding around LA with a prototype Omata, thanks to my friends Rhys and Julian, who started the company. It’s a beautiful thing — digital on the inside, analogue on the outside. Its casing is machined aluminum; the movement is from Japan, it’s built in Finland. There’s impressive sounding things about the guts of it, in terms of accuracy, GPS channels, storage capacity etc. etc. — but that’s not the point.
The point of Omata is that it is incredibly ‘quiet’ by design. It’s deliberately unobtrusive. Thousands of decisions went into making something that just gives you what you need to know, as simply as possible, and that’s it. All of those decisions didn’t follow the usual tech industry path of loading in features, making it as noticeable and addictive as possible. Thousands of decisions went to making it simple, intuitive and while riding — almost invisible.
Why an analogue display? Because it’s much easier/ faster to understand (and therefore less distracting). Why only four features (distance, time, elevation, speed)? Because those are the most useful things to know, while still enjoying the experience. Why Strava integration only when you’re home? Because then you’re not racing Strava data rather than enjoying the ride.
Why is almost invisible good?
Because it means more of this:
And less of this:
Sure, some people want to know their variable heart rate, power output, split times etc. — and have a device reassure them they’re being ‘productive’—but that’s not the reason I ride. I ride to have fun, to explore, to leave busy agendas behind. To reconnect with my body (wow I feel bad!), with friends (literally I’m trying to catch up), and with nature (wow that is awesome!). The idea of loading up on features (on-bike messaging! real-time Strava feedback! weather notifications!) seems clever — and completely self-defeating.
At this point we’re all realizing how damaging persistent technology has become to our sanity and society (Tristan Harris has been doing amazing work uncovering that, as has Sherry Turkle at MIT). But it’s not about ditching technology, it’s about finding great ways of using it, without ruining our real-world experience.
As I’ve been thinking about Omata’s beautifully quiet functionality, I’ve been thinking about the delineation between technology that enhances my real world experience, vs. replacing my real world experience. The sad thing is, there are many more examples of the later than the former. Inspired by Omata, I’m going to be actively filtering my choices (in my personal life and through enso), with the question:
Does this enhance my real-world experience, or replace it?
Or as Tristan Harris might say, is it about time spent (a pervasive tech industry key metric), or ‘time well spent’?
