RateMyDrawings

I stumbled across an interesting site today called ratemydrawings.com. It provides an online drawing program with several different drawing tools and control over line weight and transparency. The really interesting part, though, is that it saves the sequence of drawing "events" - things like pen strokes and shape fills - and allows other users to play back that sequence. The effect is that one can watch an abbreviated version of the artist drawing the work from scratch. An animated pencil keeps directs the viewer's attention to where the action is happening. Very cool! :)

It's fascinating to see the different ways in which people draw. You can sometimes infer the artist's background from the way they build up their illustration: Someone who draws dark tones first and layers lighter ones on top may have experience painting, for example. Or people who use markers, like I do, tend to do the reverse, drawing lighter shades first and going over them with darker colors. (I take issue with Jan's quote on Thursday that computer science people tend to draw like 3-year-olds on a bad day. :P) It would be interesting to see if artists have a basic pattern that they adhere to - always starting with the eyes on a portrait, for example - or if the method is as different as each drawing it's applied to.

Here is an example of the playback in action.

Hard for Whom?

Today I was playing The Best Game Ever Made - which goes by the alternate title of Bioshock - when I noticed how vague the wording is on most games' difficulty settings. Games (including Bioshock) often have three difficulty settings: Easy, Normal, and Hard. But framing different difficulties in such absolute terms isn't very helpful at all. It doesn't give the player any cues as to just how difficult the game might be - what's easy for a veteran gamer might be very hard for a novice. At the very least, I think games should use more descriptive terms, although this really amounts to calling a rose another name. Just slightly better is adding descriptions to the difficulty options. Bungie's Halo series does both, by using more novel terms and giving a (sometimes humorous) description of the potential experience. For example, the description of Halo 3's most difficult mode, "Legendary," reads "Tremble as teeming hordes of invincible alien monsters punish the slightest error with instant death... again and again." This definitely gives the player a clearer picture of what to expect!

Some games have taken an even better route by attempting to adjust the difficulty dynamically according to a player's skill. This approach isn't without its problems - most notably how to determine "skill" - but it seems to make more sense from the perspective of immersion; how often does one get to choose their preferred difficulty in life? The most engrossing game is often challenging, but not frustrating. Dynamic difficulty adjustment helps to ensure that the game maintains a constant level of challenge for newcomers and old hands alike. I'd like to see more games experiment with approach.

Project 2 Progress

Progress is going well so far, if cutting it a bit close to the deadline. Yesterday we (I'm working with Liz Arrowsmith) went to the Mesa apartments and asked some residents questions about their living space. We're interested in seeing whether residents' living space reflects the way they work and collaborate, and conversely, whether the invariant aspects of that space (for example, window positioning, room layout) to some extent affect those same activities.

I think the work and contributions have been fairly equal to this point. We both came up with and decided on a set of questions to ask the residents. Liz drew furniture layouts atop floor plans we brought and I wrote notes while we took turns asking questions. I would consider our approach a semi-structured interview, as we asked the residents the same set of questions but allowed them to expand on their answers. Now that we've got our data, we'll analyze it and get started on our report. I anticipate that we'll both contribute more or less equally to this portion of the project as well.

When is a Mobile Phone Like an Airhorn?

A thought occurred to me not too long ago, as I was startled out of a quick doze by the ringing of my cell phone, which was right next to my head on my nightstand.

A bit of background: I turn the volume up when I drive in the car because I often have music playing. (I don't converse on the phone while driving, but I do like to let people know I'm not ignoring them.) The volume is set fairly high while I'm out as well, because I usually keep it in a cargo pocket in my pants - a bit far from my ear, to say nothing of the ambient noise level. This problem could be partially ameliorated by using the vibration function, but it's pretty weak on my phone so I don't usually notice it.

Now, I concede being (often more than) a bit scatterbrained. I typically don't remember to adjust my phone's volume when I move into a different setting - say, from the car to my bedroom. The result is that I often get startled by a very loud ring, or I miss hearing one altogether.

Wouldn't it be nice if my phone could adjust its volume for me? Perhaps it could monitor the ambient sound level and use that to determine an optimum volume. A user could set a minimum and maximum volume, including vibration, to keep the phone in a comfortable range. A really nice feature, in my opinion, would be to allow the user to calibrate the phone's sensitivity: "If I'm in a place that's this loud, ring at this volume." Of course, good research could prevent requiring me to do such calibration in the first place.

It would be extremely convenient to be able to, say, walk from one of the many construction sites on campus into the library and not have to worry about upsetting anyone with an obscenely loud ring. Or to come inside out of the car and lie down for a bit without being scared out of my skin by an unexpected ring.

Of course, such an automatic adjustment feature wouldn't solve all volume issues. A lecture hall is definitely louder than a library, yet phone ringers should be completely off, not just quiet, during lectures. Since many mobile phones support syncing schedules with various computer programs, I propose a method to control how one's phone rings depending on the current state of the calendar. For example, I could set my phone to be silent during COGS 120; then if the time were between 9:30 and 10:50 on a Tuesday or Thursday, it wouldn't ring.

Personally, I would find such features infinitely more useful than playing music or watching video on my phone. Maybe some already do this; all I know is that mine doesn't!

Interacting with Games

I (obviously) find video games to be interesting sources of interaction-design discussion. One thing that I've been thinking about lately is the variety of games that come out, and the notion that nearly all of them use the same input device. Aside from games like Dance Dance Revolution or Guitar Hero, the huge majority of console games use the standard controller: Two analog sticks, a D-pad, four thumb-accessible buttons, and four shoulder buttons, plus a couple of extras depending on the console. This basic arrangement has been the standard since at least 1994 when the original PlayStation came out. Prior to the PlayStation, Sega's and Nintendo's controllers followed a pretty clear evolution, with Nintendo following its own path and Sega often "borrowing" certain features from Nintendo. Sega eventually quit the console hardware business after lackluster sales of its Saturn and Dreamcast systems. The graphic below shows an abridged evolution of controllers from the major console manufacturers. The Dreamcast's is the final one in the Sega column; I would argue that its controller was one of its downfalls! It seems that the basic philosophy has followed the "more is more" mentality discussed in the textbook - more buttons means more abilities.

The problem with the "more is more" approach is the sheer complexity of and number of possibilities provided by the latest generation of input hardware. Humans only have 10 fingers; the Xbox 360 control pad has two analog sticks, a digital direction pad, and 11 buttons. Add to this the fact that the controller must be held by at least two fingers of each hand, and realistically only four buttons can be reached at any time. This complexity turns off many novice and casual gamers who often become confused or intimidated by the number of controls, or who don't play often enough to remember all the mappings between the buttons and their in-game functions. The current state of video game controllers can arguably be seen as an example of the pitfalls of using established concepts to inform new designs; relying on old examples and metaphors blinds the designers to alternatives which may be better suited to the task. Does an increase in controls really mean an increase in playability? And the ultimate question for a games system: Does it make a game more fun?

Nintendo has realized that more controls does not equal more fun. In fact, such panoply of controls can hinder the experience by forcing the player to concentrate more on finding the right button for the right action. As mentioned above, a player may also have to devote significant time and effort to learning the controls. The Wii controller rejects the "more is more" philosophy in favor of something almost entirely new. (An image of it is in the last spot on the Nintendo column of the graphic at left.) It leverages people's natural tendency to gesture and move while interacting by using a two-part controller, held in both hands. Each part includes a few buttons - though significantly fewer than a PlayStation or Xbox - and both parts are motion sensitive. This allows for some unique, and often more natural, possibilities for interaction. For example, in Wii Boxing, the player dodges and swings their arms as though they are fighting a real-life opponent - much more intuitive than pressing buttons on a standard controller. A player can fish by imitating the motion of holding a rod and reeling in, throw a ball by making a throwing motion, swing a sword by slashing, and so on. The increased physicality and streamlined button interaction can provide a much more engrossing experience than the finger acrobatics required of standard gamepads.

The Wii's runaway success - it often sells more than the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3 combined - is confirmation that its control scheme is a welcome relief from the gaming status quo. Players are much more comfortable simply picking up a Wii controller and playing a game because the controls are simple and intuitive. Nintendo software is very good at altering the control scheme in response to changing contexts within a game, remapping actions to the controls in ways the player scarcely has to think about. By lowering the interaction barrier, Nintendo has discovered one of the keys to bringing video gaming to a wider audience. The Wii experiment has also shown the value of thinking "outside the box," as well as paying attention to the needs and limitations of users.

The Interface Hall of Fame

(A Word version of this post with images can be found here. I apologize for not including the images here... I'd also originally planned for it to be longer, but ran out of time.)

The Nintendo DS introduced several features that earn it a place in the interface hall of fame. Namely, a second touch-sensitive screen—which will be the main focus of this article—in addition to a microphone and built-in networking, allow for innovative modes of play entirely new to mass-market games. While the utilization of the hardware varies in effectiveness between different games, those that use it well demonstrate the possibilities afforded by the DS’s extra levels of sensory involvement.

At first glance, it may seem redundant for a handheld console to have two screens; however, an assessment of the way screen real estate is used in a single-screen system is instructive. Consider, for example, a battle strategy game such as Final Fantasy Tactics for the Gameboy Advance. The design of the game requires the screen to be used in three distinct ways: The fight taking place in the current area; the “world map” indicating the player’s position in the game’s world; and supplementary information about units, terrain, and mission objectives. Requiring the player to essentially stop playing in order to call up a different screen is distracting and disrupts the flow of the game. The DS solves this problem by providing a second screen that can be used exclusively for maps and supplemental information. This helps the player to make informed decisions without the distraction of an obscured view of the main playing field. A second use for the dual screens arises from their vertical placement on the system. Some developers have opted to use both the top and bottom screen to essentially double the player’s view, which paves avenues for more variation in level design.

In addition to the functionality described above, the system’s lower screen is also touch-sensitive. The touch screen adds another dimension of physical involvement to the DS, and many diverse games have been designed around the new interface. Metroid Prime: Hunters, for example, uses the touch screen as an analog-style control for smooth character movement. Other games put the screen to even more novel uses: Nintendogs players use the stylus to train virtual dogs. The interface is almost entirely stylus-based; dogs can be pet or brushed by dragging the stylus across them, or punished by abruptly tapping them. The player can also play fetch, using the stylus to “throw” a tennis ball.

The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass combines the extra interaction potential of the touch screen with its extra real estate to excellent effect. The game is entirely stylus-driven, relying on touch controls and gestures for all its interaction. Touching or dragging to a spot on the screen moves the character to that point; moving the stylus farther from the character moves him faster than moving it near him. Gesturing quickly away from him causes him to lunge forward with sword, and making a slashing motion across the screen initiates the same action. This gesture-based control scheme is more intuitive than the standard button arrangements, and in practice works extremely well. By touching a button on the screen, the map on the top screen switches places with the bottom and allows the player to write notes on the map. Every aspect of interaction with the DS seems very well thought out and tested by the developers at Nintendo, resulting in a fluid, intuitive experience.

The brief examples above demonstrate the new types of interactions that the Nintendo DS facilitates with its additional interface elements. Developers continue to devise new control methods that expand the domain of handheld games. There are many more shining examples than those described, and many more are likely to come as the system matures. Such games provide the evidence required to nominate the Nintendo DS for the Interface Hall of Fame.

Good Design!

I've been setting up a Facebook profile the past couple of days. While I was installing the "Your Neighbors" application, I came across a simple, but in my opinion, an excellent design decision.

The application asks the user to enter their interests, so they can find similar people nearby. It seemed a bit redundant to me, since one's Facebook profile already includes a list of interests. Apparently the developers felt the same way, as they included a "copy from Facebook" link adjacent to the text box. This is great because it can save a user a lot of time, but it's also flexible: One can enter more, fewer, or different interests for Your Neighbors than are in one's profile.

(update: The application lost points for only having a "save changes" button at the top of the page. I think the ideal would be one at the top and one at the bottom, but if the designers were insistent on having only one then it should have gone at the bottom.)

Microsoft's Interactivity Lab

There is an interesting article in last month's issue of Wired that described the various techniques and facilities employed by Bungie to improve the Xbox 360 game Halo 3 as compared to its predecessor. The article reminded me of one reason that game development is so fascinating to me. So many different areas of expertise are tapped to develop a game - computer science, visual arts, music, writing, and, increasingly, other fields such as psychology and cognitive science. (As an aside, I think at least an introductory background in HCI would be helpful to all members of a team involved in the cognitive aspects of game development.)

Unfortunately, level designers are not players (at least, not in this context). They are too close, intellectually, to be certain that the intended progression through a level follows from its design; players may be oblivious to the "proper" path that seems glaring to those who designed it. Confusing or obfuscated design frustrates players, weakens the game's narrative, and in the worst case can cause players to quit altogether. To combat this problem, the team at Bungie wrote a tool that took note of a player's position at one-minute intervals and overlaid corresponding points onto a map of the level. The resulting aggregation of several players' runs showed that the level in question was confusing: Point patterns showed that players were routinely traversing the same paths, traveling in circles! Armed with this insight, the level designers altered the map to better direct players by changing the layout of "accessible areas" and adding visual cues, such as the arrangement of foliage. After the redesign, the team ran the test again. The new pattern of points showed a more regular stream throughout the level, demonstrating that players were now consistently able to find their way within a reasonable amount of time.

This article shows why observing how a user interacts with a system is such an important step in making that system satisfying to use. Bungie's observations tested many of the assumptions about player behavior made by Halo's developers, showing that several of them were indeed false and would have detracted from the quality of the game if left unchallenged.

It's probably safe to say that a good portion of the Bungie team consists of gamers. I find it interesting that even gamers, when acting as designers, don't know for certain what will work for other gamers.

The "iPod Phenomenon" and Aesthetic Sensitivity

I think it's interesting that some people are more sensitive than others to a product's look and feel. I, for example, consider myself to be fairly sensitive to such things; I often have difficulty making peace with a device or system that is not aesthetically pleasing, whereas family members might not even notice the issues I point out. As the textbook notes, there are MP3 players that have more functionality, more memory, etc., than the iPod. However, none of them are as purely enjoyable to use.

The obvious implication of the iPod's success against quantitatively "superior" products is that, in many cases, form is at least as important as function. I find it astounding that even now this implication is entirely overlooked or disregarded when designing new products.