Hi there, it’s Rob again to go on and on about how amazing Simple is.
I often think of how great it would be to design for this product, but then maybe it’d be a room-mate kind of scenario where you risk souring the relationship – who knows!
In any case, I had a bit of surprise-fraud today. Long story short, I saw an Amazon transaction even though I didn’t buy anything on there recently. They quickly disabled my card until everyone could investigate. As it turns out, I had pre-ordered something and it was one big false alarm.
When I let Brenna know (customer service), she was equally relieved. I really cannot say more about how much I appreciate a normal, human response to situations such as these.
Yes, you might have noticed. She even included a reaction GIF!
When I slow down to look at my interaction with most web sites, I notice an incongruity for accomplishing the same end goal: publishing.
While different sites offer different levels of sophistication, I’ve noticed that creating or editing content on the modern web is bubbling-up closer to the surface. I liken this to term as used in Computer Science: abstraction.
At first, you had to write binary that worked directly with the processor. Then they created a language that allowed you to write logic gates which were converted to binary. The higher you get, the more programming becomes natural to humans.
As Nick sums it up, there is a pretty deep (and technical) background to programming that few of us think of today — even the programmers. Even though a well-versed developer that works in an Object Oriented language might know the logic behind the code, we have long since been removed from considering logic gates and binary code.
Translating this to web development, the abstraction layers could go as far as the binary code, but the fundamental difference between software and what we predominantly see on the web seems to start with HTML. Taking human steps back from HTML, by my count, we are just now seeing mainstream implementation of a fourth layer of abstraction.
HTML and other languages
It used to be that you had to write everything in the language our browsers speak. Yes, we still build websites like this, but you don’t have to know this language to write a blog or update your status. I consider HTML, CSS, and other browser languages to be the first or bottom layer of abstraction on the web. Kids used to learn HTML if they wanted their MySpace to look a certain way. Later, WordPress says, “no more!” Enter the second layer of abstraction.
Admin panels and WYSIWYG
WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) has been around before the internet, letting you select a different font style or change your margins, colors, and other preferences. Its implementation in Content Management Systems (CMS) brings about the second layer of abstraction. I’m sure you can count plain text input somewhere in earlier CMS platforms, but this is the more common method of creating content on the Web. Blogger might have been the first prolific example (above), but I haven’t spent enough time Googling to tell you for sure.
To be true to the definition of abstraction this comparison should only be made from language-to-language. In that regard, languages like SASS, LESS, and the like are another layer of abstraction on top of CSS. I’m using abstraction liberally to talk about the mode of interaction you have with a computer when creating content online. In that regard, SASS and CSS are in the same bucket of “manually writing out instructions for the browser.”
An important element of this second layer of abstraction is not only the WYSIWYG, but its placement within an administrator’s section of the website. On Blogger, WordPress, or even the relatively modern Tumblr, you must sign in and access a different side of the website to enter new content and publish.
What makes Tumblr interesting is that the primary experience of viewing and interacting with other posts within the community takes place in the same logged-in state / administrator view.
Other services fall elsewhere in the spectrum of a definitive edit mode and read mode. WordPress for example has a completely different experience in the edit mode or administrator side of the site, whereas Flickr was one of the first to blur the line and display the same interface for editing as reading — with minor differences when clicking on things.
It seems that in the development of a new content platform, there’s a defining choice whether to embrace the Content Management System (CMS) or to try and hide it as much as possible, creating the illusion that your draft could just as well be live, published content. This design decision is what carries some products from the Second Layer of abstraction and the Third Layer of Abstraction, where creating and reading content begin to merge.
Always logged-in + squishy CMS
As you can see above, Flickr has made quite a few changes over the years and I think it’s an excellent example of a third layer of abstraction to creating content online. Yes, there’s a smaller gap between this layer and the second than there was between the first two, but it’s distinct enough to deserve recognition.
In the Flickr example, people are still interacting with a CMS and they are logged in as an “administrator” of their content. What is significant however, is that our identities online have become more solidified and with a more liberal use of browser cookies, we are almost always identified when walking in to a website we commonly use. For example, WordPress, despite its many improvements, will still ask you to sign in to access the administrator part of your blog; whereas Facebook, Flickr, Medium, and many others will remember you, and what’s more: the main mode of interacting with those sites (communities really) is within the logged-in state.
As we lean toward an always logged-in state by default, the CMS necessarily has merged with the published content. Even when interacting with the CMS, it has become standard to do the composing or editing in the same place you’re viewing other content. When making a Facebook status, your browser doesn’t ask you to leave the newsfeed. When publishing a tweet, your browser no longer requires you to refresh the page to view that content. Overall, there a higher sophistication of Front-End web development being employed that makes these CMS interactions quite “squishy” compared to the very distinct moments you will have with a WordPress CMS and reading the blog, for example.
Sitting here in 2015, this doesn’t sound like much of a revelation. My apologies if I didn’t warn you ahead of time, but I don’t see myself as a visionary. I just think its important to document what we see.
If I am to follow this winding definition of creating content and getting further away from complying with computers to get things done, then the last layer as I see it must be collaborative documents. Hear me out:
Writing code – You’re using HTML, SASS, anything that’s meant for a browser and not a human.
WYSIWYG / Hard CMS – You’re filling in text boxes, clicking formatting buttons, previewing, publishing, and then going somewhere else to see how it looks.
Always logged-in / Squishy CMS – You don’t have to go anywhere else when finished creating or editing content. The line between browsing the web and composing has been blurred, but there is still a very strong line between you and your readers: the save/post/publish button.
Collaborative content – In this state, the CMS is the viewing platform and composing platform at the same time. There’s no line between browsing and composing, nor is there a line between you and your readers:
I think where this notion of the Fourth Layer feels a bit forced is that it’s not a typical use case. Collaborative tools such as Google Docs, Dropbox, Box, and the like are associated with professional use only, and even in a professional setting they are not the norm.
What’s interesting to me however, is a hypothetical type of social media where that line between author and reader is selectively removed. Let’s take Facebook as an easy target. Imagine if you didn’t have to click the Post button on a status.
Oh wow Rob, that would make my life 9,000 times easier!
Yeah, I thought as much. It might even do more harm than good.
Side-note: isn’t there some publication that uses data Facebook has on what people draft as a status update versus what people actually publish?
I think it would be fun in some safe spaces, such as a curated group of your best friends where you could post content live and anyone that happens to be on the page at the same time can be drawn into your activity and then instantly (or simultaneously) begin to respond/react/build on what you’re putting out there.
Okay, so let’s back away from the Facebook example a bit. I’m getting very specific just to try to explore what using the web would feel like if we managed to abstract ourselves just a bit more from the already ‘squishy’ CMS. Perhaps there will always be a line, a very minimum confirmation moment when an author does acknowledge something will be born into the Internet or not.
I think this depends on the concept of the web for most people. If you imagine it’s more akin to a book or newsletter than a dinner conversation or phone call, then yes, there will always be an interaction with the machine no matter how minimal. If you’re of the latter opinion however, then maybe at some point all lines will dissolve and we interact with the web as we do in person – maybe that leads to more explaining, and less editing, but that’s a whole other can of worms.
I didn’t want to get too technical while exploring these different ways of creating content online, but I’d like to acknowledge that these layers of abstraction do not imply that we’re detaching from machines, markup languages, or programming of any sort. If anything, a greater layer of abstraction requires more sophisticated code to support such an elegant interface on the outside.
Good design should not aspire to rendering a complicated system into a seamless one; on the contrary, I hope we continue to focus our attention to the seams and learn how to best mold them to fit our needs.*
We used to log in to create blog posts and that was a necessity for security and identifying the author. Now we are logged in everywhere, for social reasons, for our own sense of digital identity.
* I’d love to take credit for such an intelligent-sounding stance on design, but I first read about it here: Matthew Chalmers (2003)
“Ideas improve. The meaning of words plays a role in that improvement. Plagiarism is necessary. Progress depends on it. It sticks close to an author’s phrasing, exploits his expressions, deletes a false idea, replaces it with the right one.”
Guy Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle (Paris, 1967)