The paradox of wearable technologies: can devices like Google Glass augment our activities without distracting us from the physical world? (2024)

Google Glass

Thinking, Fast and Slow

by Daniel Kahneman Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2011

Ever talk to someone at a party or conference reception only todiscover that he or she is constantly scanning the room, looking thisway and that, perhaps finding you boring, perhaps looking for someonemore important? Doesn't the person realize that you notice?

Welcome to the new world of wearable computers, where we will treaduneasily as we risk continual distraction, continual diversion ofattention, and continual blank stares in hopes of achieving focusedattention, continual enhancement, and better interaction, understanding,and retention. Google's latest hardware toy, Glass, which hasreceived a lot of attention, is only the beginning of this challenge.

Actually, it isn't the beginning-this stuff has been aroundfor over a decade. In my former roles as a cognitive scientist and vicepresident of technology at Apple, and now as a management consultant inproduct design, I visit research laboratories at companies anduniversities all over the world. I've experienced many of thesedevices. I've worn virtual-reality goggles that had me wanderingthrough complex computerized mazes, rooms, and city streets, as well asaugmented realities where the real world was overlaid with information.

And yes, I've worn Google Glass. Unlike "immersive"displays that capture your full attention, Glass is deliberatelydesigned to be inconspicuous and nondistracting. The display is only inthe upper right of the visual field, the goal being to avoid divertingthe user's attention and to provide relevant supplementaryinformation only when needed.

Even so, the risk of distracting the user is significant. And onceGoogle allows third-party developers to provide applications, it losescontrol over the ways in which these will be used. Sebastian Thrun, whowas in charge of Google's experimental projects when Glass wasconceived, told me that while he was on the project, he insisted thatGlass provide only limited e-mail functionality, not a full e-mailsystem. Well, now that outside developers have their hands on it, guesswhat one of the first things they did with it was? Yup, full e-mail.

It's a great myth that people can multitask without any lossin the quality of their work. Numerous psychology experiments show thatwhen two relatively complex tasks are done at the same time, performancedeteriorates measurably. Some of these experiments were done by me, backwhen I was a practicing cognitive scientist. David Strayer, whoseresearch group at the University of Utah has studied these issues fordecades, has shown that hands-free phones are just as distracting ashandheld ones, and using one while driving is just as bad as drivingwhile drunk.

Even pairs of tasks as simple as walking and talking can showperformance decrement: it happens to me all the time. While I amthinking or deep in conversation on my morning walk, I often stopwalking when I get to difficult and profound thoughts. The stopping issubconscious, perceived only when my conscious mind breaks itsconcentration to notice that the walking has halted. Psychologist (andNobel laureate) Danny Kahneman notes in his book Thinking, Fast and Slowthat he discovered he couldn't think at all when he walked toofast. He had to slow down to allow new thoughts.

If performing tasks simultaneously is so deleterious, why do peoplemaintain that they can do it without any deterioration? Well, it is forsomewhat the same reason that drunk drivers think they can drive safely:monitoring our own performance is yet another task, and it suffers. Theimpairment in mental skills makes it difficult to notice the impairment.

So while the supplementary, just-in-time information provided bywearable computers seems wonderful, as we come to rely upon it more andmore, we can lose engagement with the real world. Sure, it is nice to bereminded of people's names and perhaps their daughter's recentskiing accident, but while I am being reminded, I am no longer there--Iam somewhere in ether space, being told what is happening.

Years ago, I wrote a piece called "I Go to a Sixth GradePlay" in which I discussed the parents so anxiously video-recordingtheir children in the play that they didn't experience the eventuntil the next day. Detached engagement is not the same thing as fullengagement; it lacks the emotional dimension.

There is a flip side to this argument, however. It is that whenimplemented and used mindfully, wearable technology can enhance ourabilities significantly. Thad Starner, a wearable-computer champion whohas worn these devices for almost a quarter-century and was a technicaladvisor to Google Glass, sent me comments on an early draft of thisarticle. "I am very bad at multitasking," he said, noting thatwhen he attends a lecture, "[by] putting the physical focus of thedisplay at the depth of the blackboard and having a fast text entrymethod, I could (suddenly) both pay attention and take good notes."He did far better than he could with paper and pencil, which forced hisattention to shift from notebook to blackboard. He then reminded me of aconversation we had on this topic in 2002. I didn't remember theconversation, so he described the interaction, reminding me of both hiscomments and my responses.

How can Starner remember the details of a conversation from morethan 10 years ago? He takes notes during his conversations, one hand inhis pocket typing away on a special keyboard. The result is that duringany interaction, he is far more focused and attentive than many of mynon-computer-wearing colleagues: the act of taking notes forces him toconcentrate upon the content of the interaction. Moreover, he hasrecords of his interactions, allowing him to review what tookplace--which is how he "remembered" our decade-oldconversation. (See the Q&A with Starner in our July/August 2013issue, and "You Will Want Google Goggles," July/August 2012.)

Without the right approach, the continual distraction of multipletasks exerts a toll. It takes time to switch tasks, to get back whatattention theorists call "situation awareness." Interruptionsdisrupt performance, and even a voluntary switching of attention fromone task to another is an interruption of the task being left behind.

Furthermore, it will be difficult to resist the temptation of usingpowerful technology that guides us with useful side information,suggestions, and even commands. Sure, other people will be able to seethat we are being assisted, but they won't know by whom, just as wewill be able to tell that they are being assisted, and we won'tknow by whom.

Eventually we will be able to eavesdrop on both our own internalstates and those of others. Tiny sensors and clever software will inferemotional and mental states. Worse, the inferences will often be wrong:many factors could cause a person's pulse rate to go up or skinconductance to change, but technologists are apt to focus upon a simple,single interpretation.

Is this what we want? People staring blankly at the real world astheir virtual minders tell them what is happening? We are enteringunknown territory, and much of what is being done is happening simplybecause it can be done.

In the end, either wearable technologies will be able to augmentour experiences and focus our attention on a current task and the peoplewith whom we are interacting, or they'll distract us--diverting ourattention through tasty morsels of information that are irrelevant tothe current activity.

When technologies are used to supplement our activities, when theadditional information being provided is of direct relevance, ourattention can become more highly focused and our understanding andretention enhanced. When the additional information is off target, nomatter how enticing it is, that's the distracting and disruptiveside.

I like to look on the positive side of technology. I even wrote abook, Things That Make Us Smart, about the power of artifacts to enhancehuman abilities. I am fully dependent upon modern technologies, becausethey make me more powerful, not less. By taking away the dreary,unessential parts of life, I can concentrate upon the important, humanaspects. I can direct high-level activities and strategies and maintainfriendships with people all over the world. That's the focusedside. On the other hand, I spend many hours each day simply keeping upwith people who continually contact me, almost always with interestingcomments, news, and invitations, but nonetheless exceeding my ability tocope and distracting me from my primary activities. Yes, I welcome thesedistractions because they are a pleasant diversion from the hard work ofwriting, thinking, and decision-making, but procrastination, even thoughit's enjoyable, does not help get the work done. I already had tohire a human assistant to help keep me focused. Will the continualstream of messages from wearable devices prove to be irresistible,diverting me from my work, or will they amplify my abilities?

A standard response is to put the burden on the individual: it isour responsibility to use technology responsibly. I agree in theory, butnot in practice. I know all too well the temptations of distraction-allthat fascinating news, all those friends who send me status reports andwish me to respond with my own. I find it easy to succumb--anything toavoid the difficult, dreary concentration required to accomplishanything of value. I've often had to unplug my computer from theInternet to complete my work. The providers of these technologies mustshare the burden of responsible design.

Can wearable devices be helpful? Absolutely. But they can also behorrid. It all depends upon whether we use them to focus and augment ouractivities or to distract. It is up to us, and up to those who createthese new wearable wonders, to decide which it is to be.

Don Norman is a cognitive science professor (UC San Diego,Northwestern) turned executive (Apple vice president) turned designer(IDEO Fellow), and author of 20 books, including Living with Complexityand The Design of Everyday Things. He can be found at jnd.org.