Ah, software. The alchemist's medium for the information age.

Mix together a half-cup of inspiration, a gallon of hocus-pocus-like language (the stranger it looks on paper or the harder it is to explain, the better), some frenzied late night programming sessions, and voila! Software is born. Add a healthy slug of marketing hype and a pinch of Internet mystique to the final mix, and the alchemist becomes a millionaire.

As software users, we've seen some pretty amazing things in the last 20 years or so. And if you accept the notion of computers and software as tools, it's obvious when you look at how computers have been steadily shrinking - we've gone from mainframes to minis to micros to laptop micros to handheld devices - that people want their tools to be comfortable and familiar.

In a recent essay in Wired magazine, musician/producer Brian Eno wrote about the human need to be familiar and even intimate with the tools we use. Eno's essay was inspired by the increasing obtrusiveness of technology in the recording process, and is somewhat ironic in light of the fact that he used to champion the advances that were being made in recording studio technology. Now he laments the software being developed by those who apparently believe that an increased number of options means greater freedom.

I think Eno makes an interesting point. If we can't become familiar with our tools, we run the risk of having to concentrate so much on their use that we limit our other capabilities. Our brains run out of elbow room, and we can't think creatively. We're prevented from letting our minds wander to those places where we can discover the unexpected connections that lead to better, more rewarding work. I believe that this intuitive capability of human intelligence could be liberated by technology, but not if we have to constantly re-familiarize ourselves with the tools that we use.

Do you think about how your hammer works? No, not really. You feel its weight, its balance, its power - but you concentrate on the task. You visualize the perfectly driven nail, its head perfectly flush with the surface it pierces. You don't wonder about what's inside its handle, or worry that you might need to turn it off and on once in a while.

Nor do you really think about how your phone works. You press buttons in various patterns, which provide the ability to talk with different people.Though the technology behind simple telephone calls is quite complex, you remain blissfully unaware of what's going on underneath it all.

We tend to think of an increased number of options as always a good thing. We need to question this way of thinking. Information at your fingertips, indeed. We don't suffer from a dearth of information; we're struggling to control an information avalanche. We need to be able to obtain and understand the most relevant information. I'm reminded of a quote by the late composer Igor Stravinsky that could well be applied to information: "The more art is controlled, the more it is free."

There are two significant challenges facing software developers today. The first is to create software tools that will allow us to foster better relationships with our work. Perhaps developers could look for inspiration to Eno's ambient music of the late 1970s, which became part of the listener's environment by design. The second challenge is to create software that does a better job of helping us deal with the increased amount of information we're faced with because of the being-connected-with-everything syndrome.

Will commercial software developers ever understand this? Granted, we've created quite a self-serving industry with these monolithic devices we call PCs, but if we don't realize the endless complexity/feature glut path for the dead end that it is, everyone will be forced to end up working as some kind of technical support specialist. Could it be that every software programmer alive is a closet Swiss-Army knife freak, fixated on forcing more options into the smallest possible space? Or could it be that programmers' brains have become so accustomed to thinking in if/then logistics that they've forgotten how people use the tools?

Perhaps. My sense is that much of the available product from the commercial software industry is bloated, needlessly obtrusive, and bug-ridden, primarily because dedication to principles like innovation and thoughtful design have been replaced by financial concerns and ego-driven power grabs. But hey, what do I know? I'm just a user...

Copyright © 1999 Stephen Wacker.

Stephen Wacker writes about technology, culture and society. His career as an information technology professional has focused primarily on communications and the Internet. Mr. Wacker also writes about contemporary popular music and is an accomplished songwriter and guitarist.

Contact Stephen Wacker at swacker@accessone.com regarding use of this copyrighted material.