Complexity

I like computers.

That's pretty obvious to everybody that knows me. There's also a lot of other people that also like computers, so it's not a particularly jarring statement, even if you don't know me.

But why?

That's less obvious. I like knowing about how my computer works. I like being able to connect to people using email, IM, Twitter, etc. But that's incidental. I like that computers can help me solve problems. I can organize my music better, answer brain teasers better, and even store my free-form thoughts better than other ways (search doesn't work on paper).

The common mode to all of this is complexity. By definition, the problems in my life are about managing complexity; otherwise, they wouldn't be problems. I want my music to be organized a certain way, but getting all 45Gb of it tagged is hard. Puzzles are fun, but the grunt work associated with them can be tiresome. Taking notes is easy, but reading them later is nigh on impossible if they're just a stack of papers. Even at work, I can take huge amounts of data and reduce it down to its essence, and then I can answer my questions. I can address each level of complexity with an abstraction barrier, and once I've solved it once, I'm free to think about the question that brought me there in the first place.

That's a dangerous path.

Some problems aren't built upon neat layers and clean abstractions. Obvious problems like interior design, sure, we don't even try. But there are some problems that we keep trying to solve with computers that are just as subtle: marketing, communication, or even finance (black swans, anyone?). These problems are inherently complex, and solving them requires a lot of information from the entire stack.

Take communication. Walking 10 miles to a friends house to tell them about your new cool widget is hard. Driving makes this easier. Calling, easier still. Email, you almost don't have to think about. Text message, you probably don't think about it. But can you really convey all you wanted to in the 160 character text message that you meant to? Don't you lose hearing about his dog's illness, the feedback on your widget, and all that other stuff? Maybe you didn't want to hear about it ... but maybe you did. The fact is, you weren't just talking about your widget. You were starting a conversation with him, and you cut it off at the knees when you decided to make it a text. Technology hasn't solved your problem, but it sure felt like it.

So, next time you find some website that changes your paradigm, think about what it does. Does it simplify your life? Or does it merely let you ignore complexity?