The Defenestration Point

“Perhaps you are discouraged, maybe hopeless. 

Don't give up.  Don't despair, you may yet be cured.”

- Advertisement for the Heidelberg Electric Belt

in the Sears, Roebuck & Co. Catalog, 1902

     I smell trouble whenever I see those fateful words "easy setup."

     They were in front of me like a specter as I tried to figure out how to use my new phone.  All I had to do was take it out of the box, follow the on-screen icons, and bingo...contact in no time. 

      Meanwhile, four days later…

      Everyone has similar tales about almost every new whizbang we buy.  The myth of the jiffy setup seems to have taken an early exit off the Infobahn, along with the fairytale of simplicity.

      So why do machines seem to be getting harder to use rather than easier?  Is it due to their evolution into more complex lifeforms or our devolution into a dumber one?

      Neither…because the simple truth is that new technology is always befuddling at first.  It is a myth of simplicity of which we dream.  Our techuman evolution involves an ongoing struggle of adjustment and adaptation.  And of course, our normal response to frustration is…to feel frustrated.  This is the reason that all devices go through a stage we might call The Defenestration Point. 

      This is the point when frustration is so high that we are ready to toss the thing out the window, the literal meaning of the word “defenestration.”  We have all been there.  Yet as disturbing as this feeling might be, it is a natural part of life with machines.

     In the dim myth of the modern age, for example, our first television set was easy to set up back in the good old days.  It looked like a piece of furniture and was supposed to function with the same simplicity.  Plug it in, turn it on, and welcome Uncle Miltie into your living room. 

      But was that really the case?

      I remember everyone in my family fiddling with the volume, channel, horizontal, and vertical control knobs.  Not to mention a strange ring around the channel selector whose function we could never quite grasp.  And then there was the arcane artistry of adjusting the rabbit ears.  After a while, the task of managing the reception became so formidable that it was left to the resident expert in the field...my father.  I have a clear picture in mind of the entire family sitting back on the couch and shouting suggestions to him as he wrestled with the metal poles.

      Once, when the picture was really fuzzy and we were reaching the Defenestration Point, my mother boldly ignored the dire warning, opened the back of the TV, and vacuumed out the dust.  To our amazement, the picture actually improved!

      Yet even as machines become more efficient, the Defenestration Point stays with us as more features are added.  Rabbit ears are nothing compared to using a remote – or two or three – to manage the high-def TV, digital cable box, and web-enabled DVD player.  Even I, with my genetic predisposition – My Mother Once Vacuumed A Vacuum Tube AND LIVED! – had to call in the cable guy in when I reached the D-point on that one.

      The telephone itself is a good example.  Alexander Bell once said that he thought the main reason for its success was simplicity of use…pick up the handset, make a call.  That lovely moment lasted for about a month after Bell’s first demonstrations.  Then the D-point set in with managing the ear and mouthpiece, figuring out how to talk into it, and how to carry on a disembodied conversation.

      Consider this segment from an 1877 ad for the newfangled invention: "After speaking, transfer the Telephone from the mouth to the ear very promptly. When replying to communication from another, do not speak too promptly. Much trouble is caused from both parties speaking at the same time. When you are not speaking, you should be listening."

      Now of course, it is common to seek help, as I had to, in order to make a call by tapping strange icons, navigating a complex voice system, entering long strings of numbers.  The paper jam, the screen freeze, the dropped signal, that unbearable car alarm in the middle of the night – all too familiar D-Points – even back to the first thumb smashed by a rock intended for a spearhead.

      So next time you reach the dreaded Defenestration Point, relax and step back.  It is not bad luck, the MOIO factor, a technoconspiracy, or stupidity that is doing you in.  It is simply ingenuity moving faster than habit. 

      Evolution. 

      The natural disorder of things.