This piece is one in a series of pieces in which I hope to explore, and in some ways redefine what we consider to be an interface, what we consider to be interaction, and what the role the human plays in all of this. This is something near and dear to my heart, my studies, my research, and hopefully one day my career. Enjoy.
Defining the Interface
What, fundamentally, is an interface? Were it merely the boundary between two things, our classification would be quick and consise – it may be labeled as nothing more than the “membrane” that separates one thing from another. Just as the cell is surrounded by a membrane between cytoplasm and the external environment, so too can we designate the “membranes” of human interaction – the touchscreen, the keyboard, or even the quill and ink, the hammer and chisel.
A definition that includes this boundary property of the interface is by all means necessary, but it does not adequately describe what the interface is. The cell membrane, after all, isn’t merely a method of segmenting and cordoning off one thimbleful of molecules from the rest of the primordial soup; it serves as a conduit of interaction between the inner and outer partitions. It shapes and defines the characteristics of how the cell interacts with its outside environment. It fascilitates and limits the cells outward expression.
The human interface operates in precisely the same means. The tools – the hammer and chisel, for example – are our “membrane” between inner contemplation and outer thought. But the mere designation of a particular tools isn’t the role of the human interface; instead, it is how we interact with the tools in question, how we use them to convey information, and how effective they are at capturing intent. In our example, it’s the design and ergonomics of our hammer and chisel that effect our interaction, their ease of use in transcripting information that we’ve processed, and our ability to use them to convey what we mean. Understanding each of these aspects is crucial because they define how the human interface becomes useful, and guide use in future undertakings.
Note that none of this relies on knowledge of what we interact with, and what we wish to convey. It’s a subtle point of distinction, but one that certainly needs to be considered. Fundamentally, the user interface should be ubiquitous; it should be able to capture any form of cognition and convey it to the receiver in any form. Practice, however teaches us that this is typically impractical – a hammer and chisel is by no means an effective input method to a computer system, and a touchscreen device is a poor method of capturing complex emotions 1. Trade-offs are inherent in the specific design solutions, but the human interface should strive for ubiquity, or at the very least, have clear boundaries.
So what, then, is an interface? With this definition in mind, the designations expand almost endlessly. Interfaces can be input-oriented; the size, typography, style guide, and even fruequency of printings are all aspects of the human interface of a newspaper, nearly everything but the content itself. The dialers, receivers, speakers and microphones of a telephone, but not the transmittance, or the voices on either side, are part of the human interface. In short, it’s all aspects which collect, convey, or convert human inputs and outputs. And I think the future lies in refining and enhancing our capabilities within these constraints.
I would argue that printed word, and to a lesser extent, even spoken word are ineffective means at conveying true emotion. We are blessed that biology has spent many thousands of eons perfecting this interface through facial expression. ↩
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