There’s no such thing as a web page: Why software metaphors are a danger to our brains
We imagine bytes and pixels as old-fashioned objects, but that false familiarity hides the risks of information overload.
This morning, I sent some mail to a friend, jotted down some ideas in a notepad, and flipped between tabs as I read the morning papers. It was a comfortable, relaxing experience — the ideal way to start my day.
There’s just one problem: None of those things were real. In fact, I just tapped on some thin squares of plastic, triggering electrical impulses across sheets of silicon that caused tiny beams of light to change color before my eyes. The mail I thought I sent, and the letters and words in what I perceived to be a newspaper, were pulses of light traveling thousands of miles through giant fiber-optic pipelines in the blink of an eye.
When you think about it again, without the guise of comforting metaphors that make bytes and pixels seem like old-fashioned objects, my morning was pretty weird. Our shift to a virtual world is a departure from everything the human brain has experienced as it has evolved for millions of years.
Computers are foreign and bizarre, so designers invented ways to make us love them
The process of creating software that conjures the image and feelings associated with a real object — called skeuomorph design — dates back to the earliest days of computer engineering. That’s why there’s a good chance you’re reading this in a virtual window on a system that runs Windows.
Whether you’re cleaning out your inbox or adding products to your shopping cart, you spend almost all your time on a computer engaging with non-existent objects in a way that makes them feel familiar, tangible and real. In some ways, this is great, because it makes technology more accessible and allows our brains to effortlessly interpret the goals of the software we’re using — for example, which files belong in the trash and which belong on the desktop. The problem arises when comforting metaphors make computers and the Internet seem harmless, hiding the neurological challenges of information overload and unlimited stimulation.
The magical (and highly addictive) design of the iPhone
The world’s best skeuomorph designers work for Apple, building comforting products with comforting names that, in reality, have very little in common with anything that’s ever been comfortable for the human brain.
The first iPhone was a device without parallel — a touchable, lovable little rectangle that could fit in your pocket and connect you instantly, from anywhere, with anyone else in the world. It was a triumph of skeuomorph design. Every icon harkened back to a physical object the iPhone would soon make obsolete — the traditional telephone, the leather-bound contacts book, the three-ringed notepad with soothing yellow paper and college-ruled lines. The fact that this device was so new and different made it all the more important to make it visually familiar, and Apple was effusively praised for the intuitiveness and ease of use of its software.
We successfully fooled our brains into cherishing a collection of steel, glass and circuitry. Unfortunately, that left us unprepared for what came next.
Your brain is no match for your infinitely scrolling news feed
With the Internet in our pockets, we embarked on a perilous journey to connect with everyone, everywhere, 24 hours a day. We had lulled our brains into a false sense of security, believing a web page to be something with physical limits, akin to a thin sheet of wood pulp we could bend, fold and tear. In fact, the mobile web is more like a personal slot machine, delivering quick hits of digital dopamine with every touch, swipe and buzz.
The false metaphors we’ve developed to help us understand computers have left us woefully ill-equipped for the modern Internet’s endless onslaught of information, opinions, likes, comments and memes. Our brains are simply incapable of thriving in a world of infinite information and constant beeps, vibrations and notifications. The result is that we’re more connected than ever — and also more anxious, angry and overwhelmed.
Using honest language about technology is the first step to slowing down
There’s a phone in your pocket, right? Not really — in fact, you’ve probably been in physical contact with that tiny computer all day without making an actual call. The first step to a healthier and more neurologically balanced relationship with technology is using accurate language, even when it’s inconvenient and uncomfortable.
I agree that “news feed” has a nicer ring to it than “bottomless and addictive vortex of misleading headlines and seductive images with a few photos of my nephew on vacation mixed in.” That’s why we love our metaphors — and why it’s so hard to admit that they’re not real.
When we’re honest with ourselves about the realities of technology — the good and the bad, with no warm-and-fuzzy words in the way — we can make healthier decisions about when to connect, and when it’s finally time to close the window, sign out and shut down.
Rob Howard is the founder and CEO of Howard Development & Consulting, the web development firm that creative agencies trust when every pixel matters. His startups have been featured in Entertainment Weekly and Newsweek, and his clients have included The World Bank, Harvard and MIT.
