Archive for the 'Photography' Category

Pick the right product for the right customer

A friend recently sent me a great pitch video that Steve Jobs gave while he was at NeXT. The video is a fascinating piece of marketing history, especially because the endeavor turned out to be such a failure. While I realize that this is a pitch, pitches, like any other kind of story, have the effect of convincing the audience and the people telling it. He totally overestimated the need for usability at that point, in 1991, in the development of the workstation/pc market. In addition, he projected his tastes onto a market that, to this day, has an almost supernatural aversion to being cool.

I am struck by the difference, between this pitch and the iPod pitch, or even the Mac pitch from Nerds.  He wasn’t framing the NeXT station’s differences from the point of view of benefits as perceived by the customer. Instead, he uses future tense language about how NeXT will be better and people will want what it does. Although he doesn’t seem to completely realize it, he makes the key insight that there was an audience out there that would appreciate an functionally and artistically elevated approach to an otherwise humdrum product category. His thinking was great, it was just his target that was wrong.

He needed a group of people to whom he could teach taste and elegance, and it turns out that consumers and the iPod let him do that. The best part about the iPod, aside from design, was that it changed the way people perceived the digital music player market. The positioning stroke of genius was the statement that the iPod held 5000 songs and let you take all of your music anywhere you went. It was the customer’s problem stated in the words they would use, and providing a solution to an immediate and tangible issue that they faced. Add to that the awesome experience of using the device (especially compared to competition), and you have something remarkable: a story that customers can tell each other, and an exclusive club of cool that has a badge that you carry around with you.

Most striking, for me, is the realization that Jobs, or someone, needs to be a pitch man, a maven of taste, to make Apple successful. He needs to radiate an understanding of cool. It is important because his goal is to get people to accept his definition of cool, and he knows it. He is totally right to leave the technical and user interaction innovations to someone else and be the man that can convince people that they want to be as cool as John Mayer.

Iterations

There are many times when repeating things is necessary and helpful. That is certainly the case with a strong QA/testing/feedback process in software development. The key is getting feedback early and then often. In my most recent project at Fog Creek, we took a product from concept to release in 6 weeks. It was a substantial amount of work. It adds some great new functionality, but my best guess is that it took us fifteen to twenty percent longer then it “should have.”

The problem was simply that our rock star QA analyst was away on vacation at [what we failed to recognize as] a pivot point in the development cycle. It happened just as we finished the first pass of Fog Creek Copilot OneClick’s functionality, before any of the chrome was applied. The people around to give us feedback had a strong technical understanding of the product and the problem that it was solving. As a result, we spent a full week without serious first-time user feedback.

It is a distinct advantage, that QA analysts aren’t programmers (usually). It’s awesome that FC attracted a few that put themselves in the shoes of lead users in a way that is very hard once you are deeply involved in the architecture of the software. Without their feedback, we made decisions about features and interaction design, as well as assumptions about the readiness of the software for delivery to market, that were wrong.

We could have solved this problem without Alison (QA analyst extraordinaire) if we had recognized it. Steve Krug has a great methodology for dealing with this exact issue, through quick and cheap usability testing, but we didn’t think it was dangerous to delay the collection of feedback just a few days. Its not that we had to undo all of the decisions that were made in that intervening week, but some made it harder to incorporate the necessary changes that came out of Ali’s testing. Even hallway usability testing failed us, to some extent, because we had explained too much about the product and the process to our colleagues. Without credible non-tech-centric feedback, our blind spots grew, but our awareness of them receded. More importantly, we lost momentum because we started to feel like it was done even though we were only really at the halfway point, in terms of time.

The day Ali returned from vacation and started filing bugs, our productivity went right back up, our sense of urgency returned, and our blind spots started shrinking. 2 weeks later, we were cleaning the dust out of the corners and putting the final touches on the product. It’s comforting to know that this is a problem that can be hedged by proactively improving our process. Next time around, we will be sure to have either QA or user feedback built-in to the “initial pass complete” phase of our development cycle.

The world is putting on a show

It is Fall, and the foliage in southern New York is putting on a spectacular demonstration of the awe-inspiring beauty that still exists in the world. Running around with my camera in one hand and J by my side made it a weekend where every second paid double, or more, through the photos.

Uncertainty

It seems to be the single word that describes the last few weeks. On Wednesday morning, I looked out over the Hudson River on my way to work and felt like nature was acting as a mirror.

Here’s to hoping that the fog lifts.

A soft touch

I hated going to the dentist. I have great strong teeth, have only had 2 cavities in my life, but I hated going to the dentist. Why?

Because the dentists I had seen before were almost universally nasty. Nasty and condescending. Every time I would go, despite having no cavities and brushing twice a day, I would get the shaking head and the sucking of teeth about my “dedication” to gum health. Or what about my “sincerity” in avoiding tooth decay?

Last week I went to a new dentist. A phone call to let them know I was running a few minutes late led me to the knowledge that there had been a snafu when my appointment was made, and I wouldn’t be able to get the cleaning I was expecting. I could, however, still see the doctor.  Grumpily, I made my way to the offices of The Family Dental Group. The office is nothing special from the outside, a little gloomy actually. I walked to the door ready to do battle (I hadn’t been to the dentist for nearly 4 years).

I announced myself to the receptionist, and a moment later, the hygienist walked out and announced that her next appointment had just canceled. She looked at me, asked if I was Jason, and proceeded to fend of the doctor saying that she would rather get me a cleaning today as opposed to having me wait over a month for the next appointment. One point for the hygienist.

The cleaning was a bit rough, but really not all that bad. The amazing thing was that throughout the 30 minute process she apologized and cooed over how much it probably hurt. Not once did she give me the sidelong threat of future pain that I was expecting if I didn’t resolve my “irresponsible” lack of office visits. She knew that I knew that had I made regular office visits this process would have been less onerous for BOTH of us. Her approach, however, was so far from what I expected that she actually got my attention. I cared what she had to say afterward when she handed me the toothbrush, floss, and gum stimulator and explained how to use the last as though I already knew but, “just in case I needed a reminder”. I have been following her instructions, and I have already made my next appointment. The doctor who filled my small cavity followed with much the same openly caring attitude.

The humanity of the service was unexpected. It was remarkable. Every other dentist, and their hygienists, that I had visited previously behaved in the same supercilious way. The Family Dental Group changed my perception. Just another example that going to the edges can change the game. The Family Dental Group isn’t the cheapest, it isn’t the closest to my home, but I don’t dread the idea of my next appointment. For that, I am willing to pay extra and travel further, and all they had to do differently was show genuine care for me (not just my teeth).

I can’t help but think, “how hard would it be to show a little extra concern for our customers?” We already treat our customers well, but I am taking this as a personal challenge. If everyone took a little extra time, showed a little more genuine care, I bet life would get a lot more pleasant in a hurry.

The trouble with nostalgia

I have been caught many times by the feeling that things used to be simpler, sweeter, or better. When enveloped by the warm blanket of memory, I recall all of those wonderful little details of the holidays with family, or the rampant productivity in the weeks prior to the launch of a new project. This feeling comes on most strongly when I am faced with a problem or frustration with something that seems all too similar.

The trouble starts with the remembering. The human mind has an incredible ability to fool itself into believing that it is recalling or observing with a very high level of detail. Your eyes are only high resolution at the very center. As a result, your brain has to splice together the images from your rapidly moving eyes into a single coherent, seemingly high resolution, image.

For fun, take a moment and look at one spot about 20 feet away from you. Concentrate on not moving your eyes, and think about how much of what you see is actually in focus. Very little.

If this is the input for our memories, how do we imagine that our memories can serve to help us recall what really happened? Even if you argue that there are all sorts of other sensory and emotional inputs that help to capture a more complete picture, think about your favorite birthday. Great, right? Think hard now; was it all great? Did you get annoyed because someone was 10 minutes late? Did your Mom get you a stupid gift? But, you also got a promotion, raise, and the coolest birthday present ever from your best friend. The emotional quotient for the day is a weighted sum. Not all of the events mattered in the same amount, and so the memory is like our vision experiment, very clear on a few details and everything else is pretty fuzzy.

Where this gets us in trouble is when you try to apply the wisdom of your nostalgic memory to your current problem.

The last time this went really well. What was different? Instead of this we had that. Instead of doing that we did this.

In my experience, success is usually not specifically repeatable. If it were, Microsoft would have major successes beside Office and Windows. They have been applying the specific strategies that they learned about what made those products successful over and over again with arguably limited success. In most cases, if things went well last time, you have already internalized the important parts of that success. The processes, work styles, tools, and attitudes that worked then are now just how you do business. It is so easy to make the mistake of thinking “If I could make right now more like back then, it would auto-magically make things better.” But, you probably have a new problem, and you almost certainly have an imperfect recollection of what made stuff so much better back then.

The solution? Treat your current problem like it is brand new.

Its scary to think of each problem as new because that means you don’t know the answer. But I find myself asking, so what? That only matters because I am afraid to fail. A little fear/uncertainty combined with a new problem are the perfect conditions for an innovation. If you try something new and fail, you have brand spankin’ new information about what didn’t work and a chance to understand the why of it. Not a bad worst-case scenario.

But the juice is worth the squeeze…

There are a lot of people completely cheesed off at Apple right now. Rejecting iPhone applications for seemingly undefinable reasons has been going on for a while, but the latest row is over the fact that some of those rejections have been accompanied by an NDA warning:

THE INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THIS MESSAGE IS UNDER NON-DISCLOSURE

Developers and bloggers are up in arms, as they should be, over a system that is clearly designed to disenfranchise the folks who are the App Store’s heart; pumping the icky-green cash-colored blood through the veins of the feverish iPhone apps market.

But guess what? Some guy made a game the netted $250k dollars in a little over 2 months. Holy smokes! Another guy made a virtual coy pond, and I would guess that he has made around $100k. These are low-utility apps. They aren’t solving a real problem for every person that purchases them. This is impulse shopping at its best (you don’t even have to take out your wallet).

This isn’t an established market with lots of rational actors. Its the gold rush all over again, for buyers AND sellers. The rules as to what was acceptable were “bent” back then (read: broken; smashed to pieces), and they will bend now. Until more people are betting their livelihoods on the app store, most people in there now are hobbyists, the majority of developers will grumble a bunch and go right ahead and submit another entry into the free money giveaway that is being sponsored by Apple. If a few people get hurt in the process, well, prospecting is dangerous work.

Interesting but not remarkable

On Sunday, I took a walk through a nearby town with my wife and our dog. The main street is littered with dusty antique stores. You pass dozens of them in a matter of minutes and there is really nothing to help you distinguish between them.

Then I came upon this hat. I stopped and stared for about 10 seconds and snapped this photo. The hat was interesting because it was incongruously new looking and colorful. I guess it isn’t surprising that the feeling of “cruftiness” inside the stores spills out into their street displays. The sad part is that I have no clear memory of what the store sold. I wouldn’t know the name if it weren’t in the photograph.

Why not try being remarkable instead of merely interesting?

  1. Hire a high school student to wear the hat and welcome people to the store, or just say hello to people on the street.
  2. Have her give away free lemonade to passersby on hot days.
  3. Have a box of dog treats and fresh cool water for all of the people who bring their dogs. Don’t just leave the bowl there on the sidewalk. Be seen refreshing the water, and personally deliver the treats.

With so many of those antiques stores coming and going, its a wonder that the owners don’t try something a little different.

Terminal

While traveling in Boston, I happened to pass by South Station. On its own the building is imposing but somewhat unremarkable in the downtown cityscape. What interested me enough about this building was that is quite literally on the border with Boston’s Chinatown. Old culture and the new Boston colliding in the reflection.

Business of Software

I returned late last week from the Business of Software conference. The speaker list was a veritable who’s who of experts on the process(es) of creating and managing software/technology companies.

Seth Godin’s presentation touched on many of his classic themes (being remarkable, making ethical use of the permission that your customers give you to talk to them, get product and marketing to match the culture of your company and customers), but I was taken with the sense that it was a massive therapy session for the audience. Much like a good psycho therapist, Seth stood up there and gave the audience permission to forget all of the standard ways in which businesses have made a name for themselves.

Forget traditional marketing.

Forget making a mass market product.

Forget competing through parity.

Having recently taken on the responsibility of “managing” the business of Copilot for Fog Creek, I have found myself falling into the trap of trying to do things the way that other companies or my competitors are doing them. We even tried a traditional marketing campaign this summer. The campaign failed in the sense of spending more money that we got back, but it put me in the right frame of mind to hear what Seth, and others at BoS, had to say about growing a software business. More on adwords later, but for now, let it suffice for me to say that there is a right size for things that you plan to sell through search or content network adverts.

I was shocked at finding myself wanting, or perhaps even needing, permission from someone else to act on my conclusions based on years of experience and my own observations. But there I was, sitting on the proverbial couch with a few hundred other people and nodding my head as Seth said that I should act on those instincts and conclusions, and that my Mom probably did love me after all. It wasn’t the answer to my questions, but it was the invitation I was looking for to throw common wisdom in the trash and try something different, and preferably remarkable.