Information previews in modern UI's

[I don't know if Facebook invented this (and if they didn't, I'm sure one of my readers will alert me to who did), but it's certainly the service which has used it to greatest effect which I suppose is the case for anything they put to use given their scale.]

One problem with embedded videos as opposed to text online has always been the high cost of sampling the video. Especially for interviews, I'd almost always rather just have the transcript than be forced to wade through an entire video. Scanning text is more efficient than scanning online video.

Facebook has, for some time now, autoplayed videos in the News Feed with the audio on mute. Not only does it catch your eye, it automatically gives you a motion preview of the video itself (without annoying you with the audio), thus lowering the sampling cost. To play the video, you click on it and it activates the audio. I'm sure the rollout of this UI change increased video clicks in the News Feed quite a bit. Very clever. I've already seen this in many mobile apps and expect it to become a standard for video online.

[It's trickier when videos include pre-roll ads; it's not a great user experience to be enticed to watch a video by an autoplayed clip, then to be dropped into an ad as soon as you act on your interest.]

Someday, the autoplayed samples could be even smarter; perhaps the video uploader could define in and out points for a specific sample, or perhaps the algorithm which selects the sample could be smarter about the best moment to select.

It's not just video where sampling costs should be minimized. Twitter shows a title, image, and excerpts for some links in its Timelines, helping you to preview what you might get for clicking on the link. They show these for some but not all links. I suspect they'd increase clickthroughs on those links quite a bit if they were more consistent in displaying those preview Twitter cards.

Business Insider and Buzzfeed linkbait-style headlines are a text analogue, albeit one with a poor reputation among some. Given the high and increasing competition for user attention at every waking moment, it's not clear that services can leave any such tactical stones unturned.

Get yourself some British TV

If you want to catch the original before watching the American remake, which David Fincher directs for HBO (Gone Girl author Gillian Flynn will handle the scripts), you can now get the British TV series Utopia on all-region Blu-ray discs. Amazon has it listed as available from a third party seller as well, though at a higher price.

I ordered a copy, can't wait until it shows up.

Speaking of British TV, Jon Hamm has agreed to star in the 90 minute Black Mirror Christmas Special. If you missed season one of Black Mirror, a sort of Twilight Zone-esque anthology of stories exploring the dark side of modern technology, it's on PAL DVD. I subscribe to DirecTV and by some act of God they happened to license the first two seasons. I don't know how I heard about the series but thankfully programmed my DVR to capture the series.

BBC and Channel 4 in the UK really need to get with the times and just release their great TV series day-and-date in the U.S., whether on BBC America or another channel.

Also, unless you're truly befuddled by British accents, watch the original Broadchurch, not its weaker American remake Gracepoint.

Should we seek immortality?

Ezekiel Emanuel wants to live to 75, no more than that.

But here is a simple truth that many of us seem to resist: living too long is also a loss. It renders many of us, if not disabled, then faltering and declining, a state that may not be worse than death but is nonetheless deprived. It robs us of our creativity and ability to contribute to work, society, the world. It transforms how people experience us, relate to us, and, most important, remember us. We are no longer remembered as vibrant and engaged but as feeble, ineffectual, even pathetic.

By the time I reach 75, I will have lived a complete life. I will have loved and been loved. My children will be grown and in the midst of their own rich lives. I will have seen my grandchildren born and beginning their lives. I will have pursued my life’s projects and made whatever contributions, important or not, I am going to make. And hopefully, I will not have too many mental and physical limitations. Dying at 75 will not be a tragedy. Indeed, I plan to have my memorial service before I die. And I don’t want any crying or wailing, but a warm gathering filled with fun reminiscences, stories of my awkwardness, and celebrations of a good life. After I die, my survivors can have their own memorial service if they want—that is not my business.

...

My Osler-inspired philosophy is this: At 75 and beyond, I will need a good reason to even visit the doctor and take any medical test or treatment, no matter how routine and painless. And that good reason is not “It will prolong your life.” I will stop getting any regular preventive tests, screenings, or interventions. I will accept only palliative—not curative—treatments if I am suffering pain or other disability.

Tyler Cowen counters over at Marginal Revolution.

Still, it strikes me as a somewhat strange approach to understanding the value of a life or estimating when that value ends.  The value of an individual life is to be sure somewhat ineffable, but for that same reason it is difficult for a life to lose so much of its value.

...

Or visit the list of words in Emanuel’s paragraph, cited above.  Many people are “disabled” to begin with, and many other lives are “deprived” to begin with, for one thing most of the lives in the world’s poorer countries.   But they are still, on the whole, extremely valuable lives.  I don’t just mean that external parties should respect the rights and lives of those persons, but rather internally and individually those lives are of great value.

...

And to sound petty for a moment, I don’t want to pass away during the opening moments of a Carlsen-Caruana match, or before an NBA season has finished (well, it depends on the season), or before the final volumes of Knausgaard are translated into English.  And this is a never-ending supply.  The world is a fascinating place and I fully expect to appreciate it at the age of eighty, albeit with some faculties less sharp.  What if the Fermi Paradox is resolved, or a good theory of quantum gravity developed?  What else might be worth waiting for?

I cannot help but feel that Emanuel is overrating some key aspects of what are supposed to be making his current life valuable, and thus undervaluing his future life past age seventy-five.  (See David Henderson too on that point.)

No doubt there are diminishing returns on health spending the older a person gets. That's a thorny issue, especially in the U.S. where we spend a ton on people near the end of their lives with little to show for it in health outcomes.

Still, it frightens me to value people's lives purely on their creative contributions to society. If someone is born with a serious handicap...I don't want to even go there. Also, it strikes me as deeply human (that is, deeply irrational) to be so concerned about one's posthumous legacy.

A much more difficult problem to me is what happens if we come up with some way for humans to live indefinitely. If, through some advance in medicine, or perhaps some variant of the singularity, our minds could live on in perpetuity, should we offer that to everyone? If it were just our minds, and we left behind our bodies, that might solve the overpopulation problem, no?

The philosophical conundrums of such a development are so vast I don't know where to even begin.

If humans could live forever, it would transform our civilization in ways more profound than just about any other technological breakthrough. Lifelong marriage—already on the ropes in the age of ever-lengthening lifespans—would cease to make sense. Overpopulation could become an even more significant issue than it is now. The cost of war might have to be re-evaluated. We could live long enough for humans to reach other stars. Young people might find themselves unable to compete in an ossified job market, full of people with centuries of experience.

Has Peter Thiel ever expounded on his desire to be immortal? Did anyone see The Immortalists at SXSW this year?

The psychology of charitable donations

One of the better Planet Money episodes in recent memory: Why Raising Money for Ebola is Hard. Doctors Without Borders in Africa is overwhelmed with the latest outbreak. Donations would help, but they are at a trickle.

As Atul Gawande and many others have noted, containing Ebola in its current form is actually quite straightforward.

This relatively weak transmissibility makes the standard public-health technique of contact-tracing effective in halting the disease. Track down the people who’ve been in contact with a sick patient; measure their temperatures and check on them daily for twenty-one days; if any turn up with a fever or looking sick, put them into isolation. Once you get anywhere upward of seventy per cent of the contacts under such surveillance, the disease stops spreading.

Thiss podcast dissecting why so few people donate to help fight Ebola helps to unpack the donor psychology behind fundraising for disasters:

  • The Planet Money episode notes that 90% of donations for disaster relief occur within 90 days of the disaster. But that's contingent on the disaster being sudden, massive, and prominent in a short period of time. Sudden and dramatic disasters, like 9/11 or the Haiti earthquake, are ideal for spurring a massive influx of donations. But a disease that starts with one person and spreads slowly like Ebola can't concentrate world attention the same way, no matter how many people it spreads to over time. The bitter irony is that when this round of Ebola first broke out, donations would have had the greatest leverage because the disease could've been isolated contained much more easily then.

  • People react to visible evidence of severity. Slow building disasters like Ebola lull people into complacency. People have a finite store of charity, and Ebola hasn't generated any iconic horrific imagery to push donors over their emotional tipping point.

  • People don't understand exponential math that well. This outbreak of Ebola may have an R0 or “R-nought” of 1 or even as high as 2. That means it could spread at an accelerating rate. “Should the outbreak continue with recent trends, the case burden could gain an additional 77,181 to 277,124 cases by the end of 2014.” That's still not as intuitive to most people as the tens of thousands of people who died in Haiti the first day of the earthquake.

  • People don't like to contribute to preventative measures, they want their money to make things better immediately. For example, as noted in the podcast, it's almost impossible to raise money to head off a famine that everyone can see coming. People won't donate until people are actually starving.

  • Africa is far away from America and many other first-world countries. Disasters close to home draw more donations. Out of sight, out of mind. I suspect most Americans don't personally know anyone who has been killed by Ebola.

  • Given the irrational lumpiness of charitable donations for disasters noted above, when massive galvanizing disasters do occur, we should capitalize on the spike in charity and allow the organizations on the receiving end of that aid the freedom to hold back some of the funds to allocate to future disasters. Charities would operate more like insurance, or an endowment. The Red Cross tried this after 9/11, but donors erupted in outrage and the head of the Red Cross had to resign.

Not to be glib, but it almost feels like Ebola could benefit from a staged dramatic event to serve as a catalyst to mobilize world sympathy. Or Ebola needs its version of the Ice Bucket challenge, a meme which spurred a vast outpouring of donations for ALS without any precipitating disaster. 

Wisdom of the crowds doesn't seem to apply when it comes to allocation of charitable donations.

GiveWell doesn't have any article about the most worth charities combatting Ebola, but Vox linked to a list from the U.S. Agency for International Development. Among the list is Doctors Without Borders/Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF), and they've posted a page on their efforts to combat Ebola. That's my choice. GiveWell says of MSF: “We have a positive view of MSF and have recommended them for disaster-relief donations in the past.”

The Players Tribune

Derek Jeter's new website The Players Tribune launched, and its senior editor Russell Wilson, the Seahawks star QB, penned the site's first piece.

On one level, the idea of athletes going direct to the public in their own words makes a lot of sense. Sports reporters have long made little of their access to players in the locker room and in press conferences, asking the same uninspired questions and recording the same rote answers.

Reporters used to have a tacit understanding with their rich and famous subjects: personal lives and indiscretions were off limits. We make much of the recent domestic violence cases in the NFL, and rightly so. However, it's easy to forget that sports idols of years past were also guilty of such sins, but the press kept mum. Joe Dimaggio beat Marilyn Monroe, but he was pitching Mr. Coffee late in his career.

At some point, that changed, not just in sports, but in politics. Would John F. Kennedy get away with all his affairs in this day and age? Ask Gary Hart. I'm not a press historian, but everything seemed to change with Watergate. Woodward and Bernstein became the new heroes of journalism, and suddenly everything was fair game. The more sordid the better.

Once the relationship between the press and the people they covered transformed into a sort of tacitly adversarial game, access for journalists no longer meant as much. Suddenly everyone was on guard around reporters.

This applies to business world as well. At most tech companies I've worked at, the default PR policy is “no comment” and not just because they don't want to reveal future product plans to the competition. The risk reward ratio of going on the record, especially for established companies, doesn't favor honesty. You might get some widespread awareness from opening the kimono, but as an established company like an Amazon, Apple, Facebook, or Google, there's never any shortage of ink anyhow.

As a startup trying to get your name out there, the equation is different, of course. That's one case where the adage “any PR is good PR” held because awareness is at such a premium, especially now.

But in general, working with the press, which I've had to do a few times, isn't as fun as it could be. As someone who respects and likes many reporters, I've often wanted to be more forthcoming, but as the voice of every company I've worked at it's not possible. Most fun conversations with reporters are about other companies and occur at social events over drinks. On the record I've always been a bore.

On the other side of the table, most journalists now rightly regard most story pitches from tech companies as marketing pitches. Reporters are looking for some unique angle or insight on every story, and the companies generally know that the positive story they want to pitch doesn't make for the type of narrative that makes good copy. You never know what spin the reporter is going to put on your pitch. If you're lucky, they accept and parrot your pitch while making it sound like an honest opinion, but as a consumer of much tech journalism those stories are of little to no interest.

Many companies now take The Players Tribune approach and just put big announcements out on their own company blog first (or a press release, but the blog gives the story a URL which is critical). Since that is the first take on the story and gets the most social media linking, companies maximize their chance to come out of the gates owning the top headline in the Techmeme story cluster for that event. In essence, the company can speak directly to the public and frame the story in their own words while reporters scramble to digest the blog post and come up with their own spin. Any negative spin inevitably lags.

All of which leads back to The Players Tribune. In this new age, celebrities already have the ability to talk to the public unmediated through Twitter, Instagram, and the internet in general. Lebron can demand that ESPN host The Decision or that Sports Illustrated publish his announcement of his return to Cleveland verbatim.

In this world, will The Players Tribune actually carry revealing content? Possibly, but I'm skeptical. For famous athletes, endorsement money makes up a large percentage of their net income, and being revealing and honest about their lives isn't that appealing to advertisers. Coke or Nike or McDonalds isn't looking for colorful stories from their roster of athletes. For that reason, I'm suspicious of how compelling The Players Tribune will be.

Of course, not all athletes pursue the same publicity strategy. Dennis Rodman is one example of someone whose public awareness exploded when he ran to the fringe. But for the most part, society is much more tolerant of hearing wild and crazy stories about musicians than athletes. We almost expect artistic genius to come with a certain amount of sex, drugs, and moral entropy, but our preferred narrative of our star athletes is that they are in the gym busting their butts because of their deep desire to win. My favorite sports tell-alls, the most revealing autobiographies, tend to come from fringe players, not from stars. Jim Bouton comes to mind.

I hope I'm wrong. If The Players Tribune signs Charles Barkley up for a personal blog, I'll come running.