It is my opinion that Windows, macOS, and other desktop operating systems should not allow users to save items to the desktop. Saving to the desktop is the equivalent of carelessly throwing papers on a desk. It also inhibits learning. Why use bookmarks, folders, or search when everything can just be thrown on the desktop?
Whatever convenience or advantages the ability offers, it's not worth the confusion and frustration it inevitably creates. As just one example, I know someone who has a half-broken monitor and who could replace it, except that a new monitor with a different resolution would cause the desktop icons to move, a price he's not willing to pay.
The flip side of this complaint is a tech tip: If you want to get better with digital file organization, make a commitment to stop saving files to the desktop.
I dislike when online platforms are split into multiple sub-sites (sometimes called servers, instances, organizations, or groups), such that each user has one profile on each sub-site and each profile has its own settings. Slack works this way, as do Meetup and Stack Exchange. For example, if I change my personal Slack settings in one organization, my settings for other organizations do not change.
Why do these platforms work this way? I see no upside for the user. Even if there is some esoteric benefit, I suspect most users find it incredibly confusing. I certainly do. Sure, there may be cases where I want settings to be different for different sub-sites, but that should be the exception rather than the rule
I’ve often wondered what I do differently that makes me “good” with computers.
Being willing to make mistakes is huge, although I empathize with anyone who is unwilling to take that risk; a single button press can destroy hours of work… or at least appear to. Sure, many things can be undone, but what good is that if people aren't taught how to undo them? You might be like a high school friend of mine, who was amazed when I reminded him that his “lost” paper was probably just in the “Recycle Bin.”
In thinking about this question, I’ve also noticed one habit that seems to help: when I install a new app or set up a new device, I immediately peruse the settings. Doing so is a great way to learn what the software is and isn’t capable of. It makes the software seem less “magical.” It bounds the possibilities. I recommend giving it a shot.
My love-hate relationship with Apple continues. In my earlier post on the topic, I only briefly mentioned what may be my biggest gripe with the company: vendor lock-in.
I'm honestly bewildered by how easy it is to export data from Google products. What is Google's incentive for helping with this? On the other hand, exporting data from Apple products can be almost impossible. Want to take your to-do list with you when you switch to the next big thing, without jumping through hoops? Good luck.
Using Apple products is like staying at the Hotel Cupertino: you can check out any time you like, but your data will never leave. As much as I admire Apple products, with their attention to detail and their focus on usability and user experience, this problem may be the one that prevents me from moving to Apple's ecosystem.
In the past, I wrote that we may need a digital equivalent to the awkward pause. At the time, I couldn't find the blog post where I first encountered that idea, but now, almost exactly one year later, I've found it. It really stood the test of time. I couldn't agree more!
Imagine you're at a dinner party, and you're getting into a heated argument. As you start yelling, the other people quickly hush their voices and start glaring at you. None of the onlookers have to take further action—it's clear from their facial expressions that you're being a jerk.
In digital conversations, giving feedback requires more conscious effort. Silence is the default. Participants only get feedback from people who join the fray. They receive no signal about how the silent onlookers perceive their dialogue. In fact, they don't receive much signal that onlookers observed the conversation at all.
As a result, the feedback you do receive in digital conversations is more polarized, because the only people who will engage are those who are willing to take that extra step and bear that cost of wading into a messy conversation.
Venmo includes the following warning with MFA codes that they send over SMS. It's the clearest warning I've ever seen, and I applaud Venmo for being so thoughtful.
Venmo here! NEVER share this code via call/text. ONLY YOU should enter the code. BEWARE: If someone asks for the code, it's a scam. Code: [CODE]
The premise is that young people aren't posting on social media nearly as often as people used to, partly because they're sick of being judged, partly because they're sick of looking at ads. Fine by me! The article also suggests that young people are sending more private messages, leading app makers to prioritize those features.
It's hard to see a downside, as imperfect as this improvement is. Why not go a step further by using Signal? It's a truly private messaging app from a non-profit that doesn't want to spy on you. In fact, Signal pretty much couldn't spy on you if it tried. The app is painstakingly designed to use end-to-end encryption, so that nobody, not even Signal, can see what you and your friends are talking about. How many apps can make that claim? (Spoiler alert: almost none.)