MAYA

What does it feel like to make code?

If you take up a new art form, even if you fail to become extremely proficient, you may notice a change in how you perceive the world. I am not a particularly adept photographer, but I’ve spent enough time learning to understand the medium that it has affected my vision: I see light and shadow and geometry now in a way different from how I saw them before.

Evil Genius (The Good Side of PowerPoint)

PowerPoint doesn’t have to hurt. It has a hidden good side that can help you break free of its constraints.

Like other feature-laden products, everything that makes PowerPoint “easy to use” (endless options and wizards) often hurts more than it helps. It offers presenters a helping hand, then gives them a black eye (and kicks their audience in the shins) when:

• Cluttered slides and transitions overshadow content
• Complex ideas are reduced to bullet points
• Presenters read what the audience sees

Irritation with the conventions and constraints of PowerPoint drives people to camouflage the pain with flashy graphics or transitions. Audiences and presenters suffer even more.

The Goldilocks Algorithms: Someone's Been Peeking in My Head

When MAYA’s Goldilocks Algorithms present information that’s “just right” at every level of interaction, users feel like the system is not only responsive, but also anticipates their desires. That’s truly intuitive design.

Users of complex interactive systems often feel like they have little control over the amount of information coming at them.

It either overwhelms them (like drinking from a fire hose), or eludes them (like looking for water in a desert). What they crave are interfaces that give them what they want the moment they want it. (It’s like a thoughtful bartender who pours your favorite martini just when you’re thinking, “I’d like a drink . . .”)

The Goldilocks Principle: Make Unbearable Products Just Right

MAYA’s Goldilocks Principle: Optimal product usability is achieved when the amount of complexity required for operation — neither too much nor too little — enhances rather than impedes the user’s experience.

I’ve seen products of all kinds — from software to sailboats — suffer from feature creep: the tendency of systems to have features added but never removed. Feature creep can get so bad that the overabundance of features, especially those that are rarely used, obstructs users as they try to perform routine tasks.

How can the complexity of such products be tamed without reducing their utility?