Miscellaneous

From Moonwalking with Einstein, I learned about using memory palaces as a mnemonic to help memorize long lists of things. Now some researchers have tested and validated the technique by having people use unfamiliar virtual environments as memory palaces.

In a NYTimes op-ed, David Agus asks "when does regulating a person's habits in the name of good health become our moral and social duty?" He has one suggestion, and that is to make it public policy to encourage middle-aged people to use aspirin. 

The most tweeted movie of the year? Think LIke a Man.

This link is a bit math-heavy and abstruse, but less so than you'd think from scanning it. Stein's Paradox in Statistics (PDF) by Bradley Efron and Carl Morris is a famous and fascinating article in which the future batting averages of 18 major league baseball players after their first 45 at bats in 1970. It is a useful introduction to the James-Stein Estimator and concepts like regression to the mean and how to quantify it. In the tech business world, managers tend to be rated on many qualities, but rarely on the quality of their forecasts. Given the value of forecasting in such a fast-paced industry, it's interesting how much people in tech rely on gut instinct.

Your site has a self-describing cadence

A problem lots of websites wrestle with is driving repeat visitation. To some extent, it's in your user or customer's hands. Sometimes that person needs to buy a book, and so they end up at Amazon. Or maybe they want to catch the latest breaking news on some developing crisis, so they visit the NYTimes or their news site of choice.

But a lot of it is in your control, too. An often overlooked tool in this struggle is design. Your site design is a visual metronome from which visitors learn the proper cadence of their visits.

As a test case, let's take the waterfall of news design so popular across so many sites (Dave Winer calls it a river of news, but my mind has always pictured rivers traveling horizontally, so even before I'd read Winer's term I'd thought of this single vertical column design as a waterfall). The design refreshes constantly, and the message is, "Visit often for the latest and greatest, this waterfall won't ever run dry." The newest items are at the top, signaling a site optimized for repeat visitors. If you look at the timestamp between entries in the waterfall, you get a sense for how often new content flows down from the top. Combine that with your average interest level in the average item in the waterfall, filter it through your own interest in the range of content covered at that site generally, and your mind will set an internal attention clock that gives you the itch to revisit the site at specific intervals.

It's a design at the heart of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, most email clients, and most blogs, and it's one of the most comforting of all web designs. I also suspect it's not a coincidence that these are among the most frequently visited services on the internet. Their very design screams for frequent attention, though email is a bit more insidious in that it confronts the user with a persistent stack of items that accumulates over time, that taunting unread count in the inbox.

[Blogs are the exception though it's usually because single-author blogs can't update frequently enough to demand user visit every day. The blogs that I suspect do get daily visitors either have multiple authors (like Grantland or Boing Boing) or just update multiple times daily through sheer effort of their authors who treat it almost like a full-time job (like Daring Fireball or Kottke).] 

Twitter and Facebook feeds, unlike your email inbox, only show you a very recent slice of items, the rest just wash away down river, forever lost to the past. Whether or not you mourn missed items in your Twitter or Facebook news feed, the way each sites treats that content suggests you shouldn't really mourn what you missed. I'm not a fan of Inbox Zero because it feels like a suboptimal allocation of time to be beholden to the arbitrary number of emails other people send you. I treat my email more like a Twitter/Facebook feed, flagging important items for follow-up and letting the rest just wash downstream. My inbox has tens of thousands of messages, but it doesn't bother me in the least.

Twitter interfaces that auto-refresh and actually put the news feed into motion are the most awesome and terrifying implementation of the waterfall design yet (I recall watching one during a McCain-Obama debate in 2008). It conveys not only as near a real-time content stream as there is (next to a live video chat), it demands focused, unbroken attention from you right now. Reading your Twitter feed normally feels like you're following 100 yards behind someone, picking up crumbs of thought they've left on the sidewalk, but these live Twitter feeds that refresh automatically and keep pushing the latest tweets to you in real-time feel like standing next to someone, walking step for step with them, listening to them talk.

Let's take another site's design to see what it communicates about how often to visit. Techmeme is a really popular news among tech industry followers. It has some qualities of a waterfall design, borrowing from it a single dominant column of items for its left column. However, unlike pure waterfall designs, it doesn't always put the newest news up top. Instead, it tries to put the biggest tech story up top, whatever that might be at that moment. If you visit Techmeme multiple times in a day, the ordering of stories in that column might shift, and over time, you start to learn from those differentials how frequently the site shifts, and within a single story cluster, the top item in that cluster might shift as the story develops. For those who are tech news junkies, the site design efficiently cues users how to prioritize their attention among stories and within stories at any moment in time. Even leaving out the other parts of the Techmeme homepage, the left column, as a sort of waterfall variant, is a highly efficient traffic cop for your attention.

This might all seem obvious, but you only need to visit a site whose design is muddled on this topic to see how important it can be. As an example, take the homepage of Time. Like many news sites, rather than a waterfall design, Time has a complex hybrid column/grid design. The NYTimes has a similar design on its website homepage. The cues as to how frequently you should visit are muted in favor of offering up a sense of everything there is to offer from the site. The reader has to process a ton of stimuli in any single screen, with a wide variety of typeface sizes and weights, interspersed with photos.

It's difficult to parse the rate of change on pages like this because the one single item within the grid can change but the rest of the page can remain unchanged and the user will have a hard time remembering what was where the last time they visited. In a waterfall design, change affects the entire page, shifting everything down. It means the user might miss something of importance, but it is unequivocally clear in signaling both cadence and priority to the user (many of these sites cope with the issue of the user missing critical items by adding a thinner column to the side of the main waterfall where they pin the top items for whatever time interval they treat as primary, which for most news sites is a day).

A site like Time or the NYTimes might offer the same signal to noise ratio as Twitter or Facebook, but the waterfall design of the latter feels like a more efficient way to seek out the signal. Sites like Time and the NYTimes explode out all the stories along multiple axes in different blocks of content, and that adds axes along which visitors must parse out that signal. The result is that I rarely if ever visit the homepage of the NYTimes; I use other sources of signal (for example, Twitter or Techmeme links) to send me directly to what I need within those sites. I don't think it's a coincidence that waterfall design sites sit at the top of my attention funnel. They both cry for my attention all the time and are hyper efficient designs for presenting me with high information density.

If you have a realistic target for visit frequency for your site, think about how to communicate it with your site's design. All sorts of cues are telling your user how often to return. As an exercise, you might look at these three sites.  What does their design say to you about how often to visit and why? What do you imagine their realistic visit frequency is, and and how good a job you think they do at communicating that with their site design? Note that it's quite possible that some services don't even try to deal with the issue with their homepage design because they don't intend for most users to use their service by visiting the homepage regularly. For example, some services  rely heavily on email to establish a cadence with users, like Dave Pell's Next Draft or Rex Sorgatz's ViewSource.

The entertainment promise of sports

Chuck Klosterman ponders the purpose of sports we pay to watch in the light of David Stern fining the San Antonio Spurs $250,000 for resting four of its star players in a game against the Miami Heat.

I'll approach the question in light of the Miami Heat's loss to the Washington Wizards last night. I happened to flip to the game and watch a good chunk of it while tapping away on my computer, and you don't have to be a basketball expert to see that the Heat lost because they were indifferent on defense, definitely nowhere near exerting maximum effort to win (Dwayne Wade is a beloved Miami sports figure, but he coasts on defense so much he deserves to be called on it much more). The Heat knew they were far better than the Wizards, and if both teams had been exerting maximum effort, I'd venture the Heat would easily win 9 out of every 10 games, if not more.

The result of the mismatch was a close contest, which some would argue is what fans enjoy. But not all close contests are created equal. Watching two inept teams battle to a near draw is gruesome, and when a good team slacks off against a bad team, that's not fun to watch, either. The truth is, the majority of NBA regular seasons I attend feel overpriced and not that enjoyable. The same for Major League Baseball, though tickets are at least cheaper.

As with movies, though, all baseball and basketball games tend to be priced exactly the same. It's in the free market, for example on StubHub or Craigslist, where you can see how much fans really value a particular regular season game, and with the exception of matchups between two really great teams, especially nationally televised ones, when star players tend to bring their A-Game, a lot of sports contests in baseball and football are just poor entertainment products.

[The NFL is an exception because there are only 16 regular season games and so it's rare to have games that teams just plain concede.]

Both the NBA and MLB would benefit from shortening the season, but they'll never do it because of the additional revenue from the extra contests. The NBA has an additional problem in that talent in the draft is extremely top heavy, so if you're out of it, the best thing to do at the end of the season is to tank to try to get into the draft lottery. I don't care how much David Stern fines the Spurs, no NBA fan is fooled by the illusion of every NBA game being equal in entertainment value.

It's a reminder of another reason why Michael Jordan was such an anomaly. My mom used to get me tickets for my birthday to see Jordan play every year, and I'd venture to say that by the time I die, most of the NBA games I'll have ever watched in my life will have involved Jordan. I never once saw him concede a game, or not exert effort to win, even in trap games like the second game of a road and road back-to-back at the end of a long road trip, when teams tend to just mail it in due to fatigue and/or indifference. He was pathologically, unhealthily competitive, but you always got your money's worth when he was on the court, and he held his teammates to that absurd standard. The fact that the Bulls own the record for most wins in an 82-game season is testament to the fact that they were good that year, but it's also testament to the fact that they didn't take any nights off, and a lot of that was rooted in Jordan's ability to find competitive motivation in any situation, in any form of competition. In that ability to bring it night after night, we might consider MIchael Jordan a method athlete.

Preview, do, recap

An oft repeated maxim about presentations is "Tell the audience what you're going to say, say it; then tell them what you've said." Or its variant: "Tell them what you're going to tell them; tell them; then tell them what you told them." It sounds almost too rigid to be useful, but as we all know there's often something useful in the banal. 

Liam Neeson's character in the Taken movies takes this advice to heart. Genre movies are ones in which we know going on what will happen, broadly, and so you grant audience pleasure by fulfilling expectations, not by subverting them (like pop music). Taken and Taken 2 are nothing if not genre movies.

So it's very pleasing to have Liam Neeson's character state his thesis up front in each movie, as if giving a Toastmasters speech. Not surprisingly, the quotes are featured in the trailers for each movie. They succinctly and elegantly sum up for the viewer that their expectations will be fulfilled with great economy. These are not movies that will waste much time with character development or other high art duties that will slow the narrative pace.

In each movie, Neeson's character explains what is going to happen to his daughter Kim (Maggie Grace). But he is really speaking to the audience, letting them know that he knows what type of movie they should expect, that he is in on the joke with them. The audience already knows what will happen in each movie (these are genre movies, after all) and Neeson acknowledges that the movie will fulfill their expectations.

From Taken:

I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.

From Taken 2:

Liam Neeson: Listen to me carefully, Kim. Your mother; is going to be taken. And people are gonna come for you to. 

Kim: What are you gonna do? 

Liam Neeson: What I do best. 

If nothing else, these moments make the life of the person cutting the trailer a lot easier. Incidentally, Taken 2 was not very good. Even if the audience knows what's coming, it still matters how you give them what they want.

Miscellaneous

The re-integration of the computing value chain. For years in the computer world, the leaders were specialists and most companies focused on one or two pieces of the value chain, outsourcing everything else. But in the mobile world, everyone is following Apple's lead and trying to own the entire value chain, buying up component manufacturers, owning their own retail distribution and the entire software stack.

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The net-price myth for college tuition: we can't count on financial aid volume keeping up with tuition increases, and the increased spending per student on the part of colleges is producing dubious incremental value.

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Why famous and/or important people often come off as inconsiderate and inauthentic: I'm replacing "high-status actor" with "famous and/or important people" to try to improve the readability of this economic paper a bit. I find many very famous people know the causes here and can flip them on their head, reversing expectations and thus coming off as surprisingly humble and considerate, even if they are no more so than the average person.

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Why do people vote if it's so unlikely that their vote will make a difference? To take it even further, why don't we teach our children to be free riders since it's economically beneficial to them to do so? Here's one explanation that makes some sense. There's the germ of something here to form an argument against piracy, I think. I don't always love media company business models, but I am against piracy. Megan McArdle sums up the flaws of the anti-piracy argument quite well here. People come up with all sorts of reasons to justify why they pirate things, but at the end of the day, they work so hard precisely because I think they know, deep down, they're doing something ethically questionable. At least with people who try to justify their efforts I can engage in a debate and try to flip them. It's those who don't even try to justify it at all that are beyond hope.