sethclifford.me

The tyranny of two screens.

2012-05-26T21:53:31Z

I have this habit that I've developed. On both of my iOS screens (iPhone and iPad) I try, whenever possible, to have all the same apps and icons in the same places. The reason I do this is because in thinking about it, I like the idea that no matter where I am, and on either device, I always have a quick mental map of where apps are located and the stuff I want is always where I expect it to be. It's sort of interesting to go between the devices quickly and it certainly seems to work pretty well when I'm using my devices in tandem.

However, the truth is that I don't really use the devices the same way. I have certain apps on my home screen on the phone that make no sense on the iPad. Like Messages, for instance. Used constantly on the phone, almost never on the iPad. Because the whole 'get your messages wherever you are' thing only works if everyone sends messages to your email address. And uses iOS. And not everyone does, and the years-long habit of using phone numbers to message people is not going away, no matter how much Apple wills it.

So I find myself using my iPhone intensely for a few days, then reaching for my iPad after a period of not using it, to find everything needs to be rearranged. And because I have mental problems, I often feel the need to do this before I do anything else because I've been looking at things the other (new) way so much on the phone that it doesn't feel right the way it is now on the iPad.

I start to wonder about just setting up apps completely differently on both devices, as I did when I first got the iPad, the way most people probably do. Is it more valuable to have the perceived speed gain from mirroring the app layout in both places, or should my specific use for each device dictate how apps are arranged? Does anyone else ever think about this or should I just start looking for a decent therapist now instead of waiting?

Maybe I'll just move them around.

Jim Dalrymple, guiding light.

2012-05-18T14:31:42Z

Dan: "So... there are people out there... who're suing Apple, because they couldn't replicate the 'Rock God' commercial."

Jim: "Yep."

Dan (incredulously): "I mean-what is that? Really?"

Jim: "They should just be punched in the face."

from Amplified Episode 7, "If It Says Stomp, I Stomp"

Adding "value".

2012-05-08T18:38:46Z

Instacast released its 2.0 update yesterday to some Twitter fanfare. As a regular user of the app, I updated immediately. Now, to be clear, I don't love Instacast. In fact, I have lots of personal issues with it. But as a regular listener of podcasts, it sucked the least of all the apps I've tried, and I've tried many. I wish so much that Apple would add even the most basic subscription support for podcasts to iOS within the native music app, but they haven't, and it doesn't look like they will any time soon.

What I found after updating was an interface that remained just as abstruse as the initial one, with the "added value" of reduced functionality. Most notably, the default behavior for podcasts downloaded within the app was altered. The original behavior of the app was that when podcasts were downloaded, they would stack up in a list, from oldest at the top to newest at the bottom. Now that order is reversed, to list the newest at the top. Which fundamentally changes the only way I listen to shows.

For a $1.99 in-app purchase, it appears that I could add functionality that would allow me to edit this playlist, and (I assume) change the order to something more palatable. I'm assuming this because I'm not going to make that purchase. And believe me, it's not because I'm cheap. I buy tons of apps. I buy apps I don't even plan on really using if I want to support the developer, because I believe in doing things like that. I won't be adding that in-app purchase for two reasons:

1) because I don't like paying again for what I was getting as a previous paying customer

and more importantly

2) because I have a hard time supporting something I don't even really enjoy.

Instacast was originally a purchased app, not a free one. I understand completely if the developer of a free app wants to monetize through in-app purchase, but having paid for the app initially, and not expecting anything more than the basic continued functionality I was experiencing, to be forced to use the app differently is annoying, but then being told that I can use it the way I was using it if I pony up a few more bucks is really annoying. I'm not talking about adding new abilities or allowing some additional features. I'm talking about simply making it work the way it was previously working, one day earlier.

Furthermore, as I said, I don't really love this app. And I know I might be in the minority, but I paid for and used the iPad app too, and I don't like it either. Both UIs are needlessly complex, and expose inconsistencies throughout. The iPad app is almost unusable in my opinion because between the arcane controls and the spotty iCloud integration, I can never tell what's actually happening within the app, and as such, I just stopped using it. I know a lot of people who wrote great things about it when it launched, and it was pretty as all get-out, but I'd be curious to know how many people are still actually listening to podcasts on their iPad at this point with it.

Listen, despite how this all came off and how my cranky tweets read, I don't hate this app, nor do I hate the developers, their families or their pets. I just really believe very strongly that if you're going to refine a UI, then really refine it. Don't add things that seem like new controls yet obfuscate purpose. Don't take gestures that were slightly difficult to discover but very useful and replace them with even more confusing options. If you have an overcomplicated hierarchy, make it simpler. And for the love of all things holy, don't up-end the way people (especially previous paying customers) use the app and then tell them they can buy "great new features" in order to restore the basic way they'd been using the app to begin with.

I'm fully aware that these choices were most likely not arbitrary, and actually based on feedback. They represent a conscious choice on the part of the designers and developers to respond to feedback and provide what they feel is an improvement to the existing model. Choices are hard. I get it. The craziest part of all of this? Instacast is still, after all of this, significantly cleaner and easier to use than almost every single other podcast app in the App Store. Don't even get me started on the other app everyone endlessly recommends to me (because I have it, surprise, and I have even fewer things I can point to as good).

Bottom line: creating in-app purchase options is a tricky choice, and I give a lot of credit to devs who pull it off successfully. But this kind of purchase isn't adding value. The only thing it's adding is frustration.

Locked in.

2012-04-30T21:35:43Z

One of my favorite things about the changes to OS X and iOS is the interoperability between the platforms. This will only be increased as OS X moves to Mountain Lion, with tighter links between the devices joined with iCloud as it becomes more robust. On top of this, the iTunes App Store is an unbeatable location for software downloads, and barring jailbreak, your one-stop shop for your iOS devices.

The strongest guiding factor in how I chose a mobile platform in the past (dating way back to the early-mid-2000s) was the availability of software for my device. I began on Windows Mobile, because at the time, they seemed more exciting than their Palm counterparts. WM had a ton of software, but installing it wasn't elegant or particularly easy. The devices were middling at best, and required some serious hacking to even be usable. After that, I moved quickly through BlackBerries in a six-month tryst. I didn't purchase the original iPhone because the idea of not being able to install apps was just unacceptable to me. But when the App Store launched, it made something I'd been doing laboriously for years exquisitely easy. I landed on the iPhone 3G shortly after it launched, and never looked back.

Well, that's not entirely true. I've looked back lots of times. With Android, with webOS, with Windows Phone. I continue to look back whenever something catches my attention. That's how I am. Something's different now, though, and I've only recently been able to identify what that is. The idea of a platform lock in based on software purchases is not a new one; it's happened on desktops for years. If you put a good deal of money into a platform, it's hard to pull away from it when something new comes along. Psychologically, you attempt to add value to the decision based on the money you've already spent that is irretrievable. We know this as the sunk-cost effect.

However, I've discovered something far more compelling than a financial imperative to stay with a particular phone/platform. It's something that isn't as easily quantifiable, and can't be assessed in a rational way as easily because there is an innate emotional component that ties directly to how I feel in the course of a given day. At its simplest, it's my time, but that time is based and built upon complex workflows that I've refined over the course of years. Years spent on one platform (iOS) and strengthened by the addition of fantastic products and services that enable me to work more efficiently from wherever I am. I take great pleasure in discovering new apps that allow me to do things more smoothly or that add value to an activity in which I'm already engaged. That pleasure (and time-saving) translates directly to my dopamine receptors in some nerdy way, because I enjoy this stuff in a way that most people don't, and can't even understand. It's a pure love of great software, but compounded with the benefits of enhancing (at least that's what I tell myself) my daily life.

Sure, there are some apps that appear on many platforms. I live in Dropbox, and I can get it almost everywhere. There are plain text editors for every phone, I'm sure. I can scan documents with my phone and sync them as PDFs with a lot of different apps. But this isn't always the case, and sometimes even though an app may appear on other platforms, it's not as useful because to the developers it may be an afterthought since iOS is the main platform for which they build. More importantly though is not that I can get apps everywhere, but that I find myself unwilling to trade off to inferior versions of these apps or add steps to the processes that I can perform more easily on iOS. When I find a really great way to do something, I want to stick with it. I don't want to spend time figuring out a new way to do something that probably isn't as good as the way I've been doing it. And those words "spend" and "time" are more salient to me than any amount of money I can spend on software. I can always make more money; I'll never get back my time - or at the very least, the perception of time.

The problem I'm facing as a lifelong lover of technology is that my excitement for new devices is still there, but slightly diminished because immediately after I feel the thrill of seeing something cool, there's a part of me, however deep in my subconscious that surfaces a thought: "this is great, but it's not going to fit". It sounds dumb. Why can't I just enjoy things? What's my problem? As our devices become more interconnected, I dont see as much value in having any that aren't. And as more manufacturers chase the idea that people are going to own all of their individual devices (as I do with Apple gear), it's getting harder and harder to get the most out of things when they exist outside of your workflows.

I used to switch phones with what could only be described as alarming frequency. The only constants were that I'd enter my IMAP settings, add a few phone numbers, and that was mostly it. No platform interconnection, no syncing over the air, no compelling apps I simply couldn't live without. Because they just didn't exist. In the years since I've adopted iOS, I've created stores of application data, some of which I rely on heavily both personally and for business, and some of these can only be used within iOS and in some cases with a Mac. It's not enough for me to try other platforms - I really can't leave until I see a path on which to travel. For now, I'm locked in. Quite frankly, it's a good problem to have.

What does Gatekeeper mean for jailbreaking on iOS?

2012-02-18T18:26:35Z

The sudden (at least to most people) announcement of OS X Mountain Lion this week came with many new features and talking points. One of the most talked-about involves security and the Mac App Store, called Gatekeeper. Gatekeeper is a new feature in ML that allows the user to select levels of security for his/her computer. The default setting is to allow Mac App Store apps and apps by identified developers who have opted to sign their apps with Apple. The two other settings are Mac App Store only and "allow everything".

For the entire lifespan of the Mac, third-party software has been a driving force in its success. With the arrival of the MAS and the sandboxing restrictions Apple put in place for applications, many developers were either unable to include their apps in the Store or chose not to because it would have required hobbling functionality to achieve Apple's goals. However this new feature connects a developer's identity with the trusted status of the application, which essentially bridges the middle ground between outright malware and the sanitized App Store experience, providing many devs with a sense of relief. How it plays out remains to be seen, but the idea is that devs would no longer have to make the choice of App Store or go it alone, and can offer a high level experience on par with Apple's expectations in their own way.

But as Apple moves to unify iOS features and OS X features as we've seen with the inclusions of apps such as Notes and Reminders this week, it begs the question: will Apple ever allow Gatekeeper to function in the same way on iOS? And if so, what does this mean for the jailbreak community? Apple has quietly taken both inspiration from, and (presumably) umbrage with the moves that the jailbreak community has executed in the past few years, but with the exception of closing exploits to ensure a more secure system has done little overtly to quell the actual jailbreak process itself. It's mostly a "no comment" situation for Apple, and when comments come, they are aimed squarely at securing the platform first and foremost, not stifling innovation.

There are many legitimate and extraordinarily talented developers working on jailbreak apps that simply can't exist in the iOS App Store. But what if Apple allowed them the same privileges it will allow OS X devs? I'd love to see a world in which not only do fantastic apps like LockInfo and SBSettings exist, but in which they can be installed with the equivalent of Apple's blessing, provided that the dev signs the code with Apple and the user is savvy enough to change the settings in the OS. This kind of a move would definitely show that Apple is serious about enabling creative development on iOS outside of the App Store walls, while still preserving the notion that security is a paramount concern for the platform. It'd be a bold answer to the cries of iOS being a closed system to Android's open one (a tenuous claim if there ever was one) and in one fell swoop obviate the need for jailbreakers to cling to security holes to run apps and enhancements they've grown to love. A more secure platform for Apple, and the freedom to really own your device's functionality even more seems like a huge win for everyone.

Plenty of people have called for "expert settings" on iOS for years now, so this is not a new idea. But the existence of Gatekeeper in OS X and the strive to unify the platforms experientially leaves at least a little hope that Apple's getting the message.

AT&T's Indecent Proposal.

2012-02-02T16:03:54Z

I'd been hearing rumblings on Twitter about AT&T starting to communicate to certain types of data users still using unlimited plans about the amounts of data they'd actually been consuming. I'd assumed this was coming about due to the carrier's reluctance to continue supporting unlimited data plans that users had been grandfathered into from previous years in today's data-intensive mobile landscape. I also assumed (incorrectly) that this was occurring in extreme cases of heavy data use, in which the user may have consumed what AT&T determined to be an extraordinarily large amount of data in a single billing period.

That is, I assumed all this until last night, when I received a similar notice for my wife's iPhone.

First, a bit of background. My wife and I both use an iPhone 4S. Until recently, we both had unlimited data plans from years ago, at which point I switched to a 4 GB Data Pro plan with tethering as I was confident in how much data I used and wanted to be able to tether when necessary (I typically consume only about 1 GB in a very heavy month). She, however, uses 3G more, as the Wi-Fi at her office building is unimpressive at best, non-functional at worst. Her data use usually hovers somewhere between 1.7-2.3 GB in a typical month (she loves Pandora). She is not jailbroken, not tethering in any unsanctioned way; she is merely using the device as Apple and the carrier intended.

Here is her voice use for the past 29 days:

Here is her data use for the past 29 days:

You may have noticed a few things. One is that we don't talk on the phone all that much in our family. I'm sure that's not uncommon these days with the litany of new ways to communicate. The other is that she's used 2050.87 MB of data in that time period.

Here's the message I received in my inbox (and she a similar one on her iPhone):

Let's examine part of that message a little closer:

We're writing because you are in the top 5 percent of heaviest data users for this billing cycle.

Ok, so I have a 4 GB tethering plan on which I can use every single bit they can send me, and go over for a nominal fee, but my wife - who is at this point - 50.87 MB over an arbitrary assignment of 2 GB on her unlimited data plan receives a decidedly passive-aggressive notice (as do I) the inference of which is that she's done something wrong (since we've never received such a message previously).

So let's parse those numbers again:

My wife is in the top 5 percent of heaviest data users for this billing cycle. On her unlimited plan. Because she is over an invisible barrier of 2 GB that AT&T has decided to retroactively assign her without her knowledge. By 50 MB.

Am I the only person who would stare at this incredulously and see red? Sure, as a logical mobile data user and a person intimately familiar with both the market and the technological aspects of this exchange, I know that unlimited data is an antiquated ideal that we as users feel we should cling to. I've given up my plan for the sake of convenience, and I'm happier for it - honestly. Chris Ziegler wrote an excellent piece on why hanging on to the past is not even in our best interests going forward as mobile users. I get it. I do.

But my wife doesn't. She thought she did something wrong. As would many (if not most) other people in this position. It begs the question: why is AT&T messaging users in this way now? Could it be because sustaining a base of users on a plan that they can no longer support has become untenable? That would be understandable, knowing what we do about the limits of mobile bandwidth. Or could it be something else that is completely not due to the fault of any users and is really akin to sour grapes that are being shoved contemptuously in our faces?

This isn't about her data speeds being throttled, which ever so graciously, AT&T has warned her about, but not done this month (gosh, thanks! that 64-bit Pandora stream would have really suffered!) but rather about the tone of the entire situation. You want us to switch to another plan? Ok, I'm a rational person - give me a good reason and a good deal. I'll pay a few bucks extra once in a while if she goes through her limit. But how dare you insinuate that her use, completely within the realm of normal smartphone activity, is part of the cause of your inability to manage your network's bandwidth. This messaging is hostile and offensive and completely uncalled for. I would be more than willing to switch her plan if someone actually called me and spoke to me in person. Sending me (and her as well) a thinly-veiled threat in the guise of a friendly heads-up is beyond reprehensible.

AT&T: get your house in order. Now.

Apple's Shot Across The Bow.

2012-01-23T15:09:42Z

Rene asked me to write a few thoughts on Apple's announcement after our coverage on Thursday, along with a few other iMore writers. As a former educator, I have some strong feelings on how we've not served our children in the past, and some stronger feelings on going forward into the future. You can read my thoughts below, and see the other writers' thoughts here.

Apple’s move to advance our shamefully archaic system was met with a lot of debate on Thursday morning. On one side, we heard from utopian education advocates (myself included to some degree), extolling the virtues of a centralized e-textbook platform, and Apple’s commitment to engaging our youth. On the other hand, I had a few spirited conversations with those who feel that by making great educational opportunities “expensive” (meaning only upper-class schools may even be able to apply these new techniques, leaving inner-city and less-privileged districts behind) Apple has driven a wedge between the haves and the have-nots, making education less democratized and less accessible to all. Personally I feel that both sides have points, but quite honestly, nothing is fair. Education has, in the past decades, grown more and more to be the bastard child of the federal budget, despite the headline-grabbing initiatives that get introduced to fanfare and few results. Kids are taught only to pass tests, so that funding can be applied to districts who have “earned” it. Kids are getting the short end of every stick they see in school, and nothing is changing. And what if Apple’s entire move here is not about changing the entire education system, which it most likely understands is irreparably flawed, but rather to disintermediate education the way it did carrier control with the mobile market? What if Apple’s ultimate play (with products like iBooks Author) is to put education back in the hands of students (and the actual individuals they interact with on a daily basis), obviating the need for a bloated, antiquated system in much the same way that it saw the carriers as a necessary evil in bringing iOS to the hands of users?

Certainly not every district is hopelessly broken, and not every kid’s education suffers at the hands of an ever-shrinking budget. Children who seek out learning will always learn, and those who do not will make their way in the world. It has happened for years and will always be the case, no matter what costs we apply. Apple’s attempt to shake up a system so mired in early 20th century standards is merely a shot across the bow of a huge vessel that’s been in motion for as long as any of us can remember. It will not be panacea to all the ills of our society, nor should people expect Apple to fix every problem. Apple is a business; they exist to make money and sell merchandise. Those who are decrying its attempts to make learning better are missing the bigger picture. Should we all shun this advance because only rich kids might get a chance to use it at first? Education needs disruption, and all it takes is a cursory look at the developing countries of the world to know that mobile computing is the future for our society. Not everyone will get an iPad or an iPhone, but at some point, everyone will be exposed to learning in a better, mobile capacity, and we’ll have Apple to thank for jumpstarting the efforts of those who would sit idly and let our children continue on the endless march to mediocrity.

Seth worked for five years as a computer instructor in a public middle school (grades 6-8), for six years with kids with autism, and was a member of district-wide technology planning committees.

Since that post was published, I've heard a lot of other great commentary regarding the fact that this is all just more of the same kind of whiz-bang, "look how fun we can make learning" that we've been seeing for decades. I think there's a lot of truth to that sentiment. However, even if this is only a first step, it's an interesting one. This is by no means a problem that's easily solved.

Android's Baby Steps.

2012-01-16T23:57:12Z

A few days ago, Google released a design guide for Android, a much welcomed first step into unifying the platform visually and creating cohesive application interfaces. Android has, over time, come under a lot of fire from visually-centered users and designers for its wildly varying interfaces and disparity among device types and sizes.

But it's only a first step. Developers need to embrace the new guidelines and conform their designs to the recommended paths. However, there are still lessons for Google to learn as well. We just got a Galaxy Nexus in the office and one of the first things I realized was that the "Menu" button has been removed and replaced with a few squares on the screen within apps like this:

It took me a second to realize that the tiny squares were there, and another to realize that I could tap them to invoke the menu options that in previous versions of Android were at the bottom of the phone with the Home, Back, and Search keys. But the problem for Google is not the size, nor the location of the squares. It's that squares already mean something else:

Those little squares are ways to get to your apps. So for an inexperienced user, performing an activity within an app, it may appear that you can tap those squares to get your app drawer opened. Granted, the fact that someone will only really confuse this approximately once is not lost on me. But it's inconsistent. You can't attempt to strongly coerce an already fractured design platform if the visual metaphors you choose to implement are murky. Would it have been so difficult to choose some other shape to either signify "apps" or "menu"?

That said, the very existence of the guidelines shows that Android is truly maturing as a platform. Some people won't like it, because it means Google's exercising more Apple-like control. Some users will welcome it because it means higher-quality experiences across devices. One thing's for sure: we won't be debating "open" for much longer if this keeps up, and that's fine. It was a straw man from the start.

The Kindle Fire. Take Two.

2011-12-30T19:27:07Z

As co-host of two iOS podcasts and a mobile design podcast and as an iOS user, when I mentioned I took the plunge, people on Twitter asked me to write up my thoughts. As such, I've decided to try and approach this as pragmatically as possible, so I'll be looking at this from the perspective of a technically proficient and critical nerd, and also as much as possible like a regular person might.

I say take two not because I'm the second person to write a review (btw, read Marco's exhaustive and very specific review as well - he covers the super minutiae better than I could hope to) but rather because the first take for me was a less-than-stellar experience in a brick-and-mortar store with the Fire immediately after it launched that left me feeling less-than-impressed. But as I have some time until the next iPad arrives, and I'm feeling experimental, I decided to give it another shot. I had heard that the software update improved the interface a bit, and was curious to see it for myself.

As Marvin would say: let's get it on.

In keeping with fashion these days, I offer you this:

tl;dr

Though needing some definite love in a few areas, the Kindle Fire is not nearly as bad as I'd felt in my initial experience. There are some questionable decisions that Amazon's made regarding both hardware and software, but for a content experience (following the intentions that Amazon has set for use of the device), the size and UI are functional and easy enough to use for most people. Nerds will likely continue to find fault in a few key areas.

In The Hand

I've gone on record saying that while I don't think the iPad would work as a 7" tablet, I do see a place for smaller devices in the market. I stick by that. Whereas the 10" Android tablets I've tried feel cartoonishly long or tall depending on the direction in which you're holding it, the dimensions of the Fire, while similar, don't feel as strange. I've read paperback books that were oddly shaped, and it's not too foreign a feeling, despite my preference for 4:3 devices like the iPad and TouchPad.

It is, however, a bit heavier than you'd expect. If you're holding it up - and you're likely to do it based on its overall size - you may feel fatigued. I noticed my hands becoming sore when reading in certain positions for extended amounts of time. Granted, they got sore with the iPad too, but I was more inclined to rest that larger device on something, so I avoided the experience without realizing it. The build quality of the Fire is, as a result of this weight, significant. It feels very sturdy and relatively high-end given its price point. It feels good.

Hardware

The most distinctive thing about the Fire's hardware is probably that there are no exterior buttons, save for the awkwardly-placed power button on the bottom of the device. It's tiny, and I can see how it'd be hard for some people to find it to activate or turn off the device, but I didn't have too much trouble. My hands are smaller than some, and I'm used to manipulating smaller controls like that on other devices, so take that for what it is.

Not having exterior volume controls is a little strange, though, especially while watching a movie or listening to music. When watching video, it's distracting to have to tap the screen, then tap the settings gear, then adjust the volume (Amazon seems to default to having the volume icon pre-selected when you do this, almost as though they're trying to mitigate the annoyance) - but it's not horrible. It's definitely not ideal, though. During music playback, if you have the screen off, then you've got a slightly awkward power button press (since there's no home button to quickly tap to wake the device), then a swipe, then the taps I just described. Not terrific. [EDIT: I discovered a setting in the music player that enables lock screen controls for playback; it's a little odd, but it works fairly well.] Will it slowly drive me mad over time? Possibly. But then again, I'll probably do more text-based consumption on the Fire than I will audio/video media, despite its prevalence at the top level of menu navigation and Amazon's content availability.

Speaking of media, the speakers are ok, not great. A little thin, and not loud enough. Well, they're sort of loud enough if you crank the volume, but the controls are sensitive, so you'll probably spend a lot of time between not loud enough and damn it why can't I just get this a tiny bit louder.

Battery life is definitely solid; not iPad solid (and definitely not e-ink Kindle solid, which is otherworldly), but very good. More than I expected. But that was a lot of app browsing and reading; throw video streaming in the mix and you'll likely watch it drop a lot faster. It also gets a bit warm during video playback which never leaves me feeling great about a device.

Software

As we all know by now, the Fire runs a highly customized version of Android, forked from Google's path down a questionable road of Amazon's choosing. They've made some good choices and some strange ones with this decision.

First, the overall interface to a regular user is pretty good. You start up and you see a text bar of all the things you can do, and it's pretty clear what those things are. Jump to an area and you'll have (in most cases) two options: what's in the cloud and what's on your Fire. And you can usually hop over to a storefront for that area to get more stuff quickly. While not exactly what I would call intuitive, the Fire's UI is obvious, and that's very important too and not to be diminished.

The other thing I noticed is that given Amazon's customizations, the typical things you might think to do with an Android device (widgets, changing launchers, theming, etc.) are missing. And in this case, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Not only has Amazon removed the fiddly nature of Android to make a more simplified device that more people can understand, they've made a stand as to how they want to shape the presentation of their content (and yours). It's a very Apple-like move, that goes against the tweaky lineage Android has forged up to this point, but it's actually a bit refreshing, because you don't spend the time you normally would playing and trying a million different visual and functional configurations. You just use the device.

Having said that, I immediately tried treating it like a regular Android tablet and began browsing for apps. The on-device store for Android apps that work with the Fire is fairly limited - for people like us ["What do you mean YOU PEOPLE?!"]. For regular people, it's probably more than enough. There are some confusing elements, though, as Marco pointed out. The appearance of multiple versions of apps - one of which may be labeled "Kindle Fire Edition" or something of that nature - could definitely be confusing to people. It sort of confused me for a second. Fire-optimized apps that I tested generally have a more natural feel on the device, whereas the other apps you can install from the store may just look stretched, which is a complaint of many Android tablet users.

If you try to browse the Amazon Appstore from your computer, prepare to see a lot of apps that are not compatible with your Fire. Amazon clearly calls this out when you view the app page, and while you'll be allowed to purchase the apps, they won't sync down to your device and install. There is a way around this and I'll mention it here, but keep in mind, this is a perfect example of the problems with software on a customized device like this.

What I did to get a few other apps onto the Fire:

downloaded app to a separate phone via Android Market
used Astro File Explorer's backup feature to drop the .apk onto the SD card
plugged phone into my computer
copied the .apk I wanted to the desktop
disconnected the phone
plugged in the Fire
added the .apk to the SD card
disconnected the Fire
used AndroXplorer file browser on the Fire
navigated to SD card
tapped .apk
installed app (which only worked some of the time, some app installs failed)

No normal person is going to do this.

But like I said, most normal people won't care. What they get through the Amazon Appstore will be good enough. But it's still indicative of a different way of using this device. It's not really an Android tablet - it's an Amazon content delivery mechanism. If you adopt this viewpoint, you'll make out all right.

Content

Obviously Amazon has plenty of content for you to browse, buy, download, stream, and consume. In fact, I've said in the past that the only way Amazon had a chance with this was due to the fact that the content was in place already, and it will certainly be a success of some measure if only for that alone.

Books: Amazon's got bunches. If you prefer the e-ink Kindle experience, then you won't like reading here. I'm used to reading on the iPad and iPhone, so it's actually nice to have a slightly smaller/larger view (depending on which device you're talking about) to read text. Marco made some very good points about smaller details, most of which won't bother me and most people, I would wager, but if you're very specific about your reading experience, they might.

Magazines: I haven't had a chance to explore the magazine subscription content yet, but the magazine viewing is a little odd. You either get a full-page view you can barely see, or you get a stuttery zoom that's not wonderful. However, you can also apply a simpler text view very much like Instapaper that is pretty readable. Of course, you're giving up the magazine layout at this point, so you might just say forget it and not bother if that's why you like magazines in the first place (and there's a good chance that it is).

Music: Tons of mp3s to download, and Amazon's got the cloud player system in place. Haven't used it because I've got a Subsonic server set up at home and I use that for all my streaming. The Fire audio player itself is a little spartan though, and not having external volume keys is fairly annoying, and could become more so over time.

Videos: As a Prime member, I've got a lot of content I can view for free, both TV and movies, but it's still not a mind-blowing selection. You can forget about using Netflix on the Fire; it's a hot mess. Constant stuttering, dropped frames, audio out of sync, the works. Even the Amazon video did some crackling and stuttering in certain parts of my house where I have no problem with other streaming devices (and I have FiOS, so bandwidth is not the issue either). I'm going to continue experimenting with video stuff and see what I find. There's an app that I found which appears to be like Air Video for iOS, which is a longtime favorite of mine, and would allow my Mac mini to stream video around the house over wi-fi.

But you can side-load content: Sure, you can, but there's not a ton of room. You have about 6 GB actually available to you on the device, and that'll get eaten up fast. I'm wondering if I can hack it to add more storage, but that's not a normal person thought, that's a nerd thought. And my gut tells me no. I tried to load some comics I had in PDF form and they weren't detected by the Fire in any capacity (even as "Docs") so I installed Adobe Reader to view them. I loaded some books as epubs and dropped them into the "Books" directory of the SD card to find that they were completely ignored, unsurprisingly, by the Fire. In fact, I could only find one epub reader on the Kindle Fire store at all, and it's a complete piece of crap. ~~Even the TouchPad could read my epubs, including the ones I downloaded through iBooks. So there's that.~~ On second thought, I think that was only the epubs I may have downloaded and placed into iBooks. Apologies for misstating that.

The bottom line is that you better like streaming everything (with the exception of books) because you're going to be doing a lot of it. And you better like Amazon's content, because a lot of other things just won't quite fit in as nicely as you'd hope.

Summary

As a nerd, the Fire is a waste of time for the most part. You're limited by the choices Amazon's made in the hardware and software, and getting stuff done around those choices is possible, but probably not worth your time unless you really feel like poking around. People have been hinting at how great a CyanogenMod build would be for the Fire, so you may want to go that route eventually, but then again, why not just buy another Android tablet if that's what you want it for? Surely if you're willing to hack to that end, you can save yourself some time with other hardware. But I guess there's the challenge too.

As a normal person, the Fire is pretty good. Seriously. The software update (which auto-installed minutes after I unboxed the Fire) made a big difference in responsiveness. Prior to that, half my button presses didn't even register and scrolling was pretty lame. If you're comfy with Amazon's selections, and you don't mind a few weird moments (like always tapping the screen to do everything), you probably won't mind it too much. There's plenty to do and it's laid out clearly for you. If you use the device in the manner Amazon has envisioned, you'll be fine. It's when you stray outside of that use case that you face some resistance. My guess is that most Fire owners won't make that choice.

Regarding the sales numbers: well, a lot of people probably got them as holiday gifts, and haven't really begun using them yet. And Amazon's always been a little reticent about sharing that stuff. Who cares anyway? Actual, regular people don't care about this stuff. They only care about what they're doing with the device.

I know I didn't cover everything, I probably couldn't if I wanted to. But as I said, Marco's review is worth reading - it's much more specific on a technical level about the things I touched on. I just think that most people won't care about a lot of them, because they'll either see it as a Kindle that does a few extra things, or as an ancillary device along with their iPad - which is exactly how I choose to view it. It'll never replace an iPad, and Amazon is bat shit crazy to even suggest such a thing. I thought they'd have approached the device a little differently among consumers, but that page shows clearly what the intent of the marketing is.

Takeaways?

It feels well-made and decent in your hands, but a little heavy
If you use it how it's meant to be used and don't bolt on your own expectations about what the device should be able to do, it'll probably be fine
If you watch a lot of video, I wouldn't recommend it unless there's a software fix to make it better overall
If you currently like to read on your non e-ink devices and want something that's more of a dedicated reader with a few other things, you might like it
If you're a serious app hound, you'll probably be disappointed as the app selection (at least the ones easily available and compatible) seems limited
If you focus on the little things, it'll drive you crazy, but you can probably get over them and still enjoy it for the most part
It's a decent secondary device, but you wouldn't want to do "work" on it, the way we've gotten used to doing some things with the iPad
It is $199, after all
It's not an iPad and never will be

The last one is the sticker.

I do still like it, though, and plan to keep it. I'm reading more, and I like the size a lot. I also plan to get the next iPad when it arrives and have an entirely different plan for how I think I'd like to use it (it involves taking my laptop fewer places for starters). If I change my feelings significantly or something happens in the future to the Fire, I'll possibly revisit this post and write an update. If you were on the fence about it, I hope this at least sheds a little light on the decision for you. Consider me your guinea pig.

Forked up.

2011-11-11T19:19:01Z

There have been some rumblings that Google is starting to realize how varied the landscape of Android devices actually is and may take steps to unify the platform. This current state is of course the direct result of the fact that Android was distributed to OEMs and carriers to customize for the devices they wanted to build and sell. It's a great model for the aforementioned groups, because it allowed them to add all manner of software to the OS as a point of differentiation beyond the hardware itself. For consumers, it hasn't worked out as well because companies are less inclined to update older devices with new builds of Android as it comes out because the work and expense involved, it seems, is better spent on churning out new devices to sell. The net result is that up until now, unless you had a Nexus device, you were gambling on what kinds of updates you would see on your handset, and for many people, the house always wins.

So let's think about the first point in that paragraph: that Google may take steps to unify the platform. We've already seen shades of it in the restricted release of the open source Honeycomb code earlier this year. Ice Cream Sandwich is around the corner and has a ton of additional features in it that have been done in OEM/carrier customizations or third party apps. What would those groups do if Google just said one day that the party was over? How would they differentiate? In the face of Google changing the way companies can interact with Android, would hardware differentiation be enough?

It might be, but think about this for a second: given that updates to customized Android builds on varying handsets are not consistent across the board (please don't argue with me, Android supporters, let's call it like it is - your phone may have gotten updates, but not every phone does), what single action would allow manufacturers an opportunity to set their devices apart against the constant phone updates and turnover? What could they do that would let them continue to use Android the way they want to if Google changes the game?

Fork it.

Amazon did. The Kindle Fire runs a highly customized variant of Android that Amazon built on a completely different path from Google's. Now, the first thing that tech people think in this case (myself included) is "well, you're never getting the updates to the OS that everyone else will get". Guess what? Not everyone does now, on the existing upgrade path. In fact, I'm fairly certain some phones are being released currently that aren't running the latest version of the OS, and have no defined upgrade path from the manufacturer. The Kindle Fire is running an older version of Android, sure, but its experience wouldn't indicate this, because Amazon has changed the entire UI to suit very specific use-case needs.

What's stopping companies from forking Android? Can't be money, because they're spending a ton of it on the largely crappy customizations to the OS itself (forgive me, I'm a fan of standard Android on a functional level, though it leaves a lot to be desired visually). Is it R&D? Do they simply not have the resources to actually continue crafting versions of the operating system in house? If not, wouldn't it make sense to try and bring those abilities inside at this point? Part of me says it's fear that they'll go down a path they can't come back from, and part of me thinks it's just laziness. "Google's doing the heavy lifting; let's throw a few new widgets on this new unobtanium phone we just made and call it a day." Then they'll do it again in sixty days (or less). But the effort involved in building what is essentially your own OS is not lost on me, so I know it's not something everyone can do.

The business model is selling hardware, I get that too. But part of that hardware - an ever-increasing part - is experience, and that's where the Fire will excel and where all these other companies continue to fall short. Apple can do it, I think Amazon can too, because they're not thinking about the same things anymore. It's a content play for them - get the devices in market and sell through the massive Amazon catalog. But they need to sell hardware to sell the experience. They're not mutually exclusive. They never have been.

Furthermore, building a business on someone else's platform is always a tenuous proposition. Ask any Twitter developer who's had run ins with changing APIs or any iOS developer who's run afoul of Apple's often arcane rules. All of these third parties building on top of Android may have some tough decisions ahead of them if Google tightens the leash on what can be done to the OS. Microsoft has a whole mess of restrictions for Windows Phone, and that positioning seems to be doing them at least a small favor in that hardware variations exist, but there's still a cohesive nature to the WP experience. Google may look at this model, not to mention iOS (where hardware and software are as tightly integrated as they could possibly be) and wish to move in this direction for any number of reasons.

It all makes so much sense! Why wouldn't a company do this? Control the path of your development future. Build compelling hardware that meshes perfectly with the software. What's stopping this new horizon from being reached?

Content.

If they do, they're cut off from all the content the Android Market offers. Fork Android, and you can forget Google services. Amazon's not worried because they have their own playground and don't need Google's apps and services. But every other hardware manufacturer does, because without it, all they have is a well-crafted little island that no one in their right mind is going to buy. No apps means no platform, and no platform means no sale. No one is going to splinter off, go up against the iOS App Store and Android Market and even make a dent. I suppose they could try to integrate with the Amazon Appstore, but I have a feeling that may not be a great answer because it's just trading one content master for another. Through building an Android Market, Google has created a lock-in point for anyone who wants to use Android for anything, because without apps, consumers won't even consider a device. People give Apple a lot of crap for their policies regarding the App Store, but at least there was no mistaking the intention. Without the Market, every other Android device is toast from the start.

What are we left with, then? An ocean of incessant me-too, bullet-pointed, one-upping phone releases made from varying metals, plastics and glasses. A market strewn with devices, ostensibly orphaned by the manufacturers that released them into the wild, mere months after their introductions. Consumers not sure about which phone they should buy because there's a point of diminishing returns when it comes to consumer choice. Too little of it and you feel hemmed in (with the possible exception of the iPhone), too much and you have some heavy buyer's remorse or just confusion about devices in general. Android held great promise as a new open platform on which many different devices could be built. What it's become, in spite of itself, is a walled garden of a different kind, albeit with a slightly lower wall, without anyone realizing it. Content is king, everyone knows it, and as long as there isn't a better channel for it, we're in for a whole lot of the same.