Why I left open source

A while back I told some friends that I would, some day, write about why I have found it uncomfortable working at Flock, and within open source communities in general. I’ve been procrastinating. It’s hard to write about my feelings on this subject. That’s probably because I want anything I say about Flock and open source to be taken in a positive light, and I’m afraid that it will instead be taken as criticism that makes people feel defensive.

But recently both Eli and Lloyd also left Flock, and I think it is important to point out that while engineering departures have been rare, nearly the entire first string of people who focused on UI, communications, and community are now gone. We were excited by what we thought we could do at Flock. So what happened?

I can speak only for myself, but here’s what happened to my enthusiasm: in very short order, I realized that I would have little influence over Flock’s development as a product and as an organization. I want to be influential in whatever enterprise I am part of, and I want to develop and learn. After being part of Flock for a few months, I concluded that Flock was not going to offer me the opportunity I wanted.

It’s always hard for a non-engineer to be influential in an engineering enterprise. After 25 years of working in the computer industry, I know that. But I’ve concluded that it’s particularly difficult, ironically, for a non-engineer to make her voice heard in open source groups. Since open source projects are usually organized with an “everyone plays” philosophy, why is it so hard for non-engineers to participate?

I’ve thought about it for a long time, and I think it comes down to one thing: the people who are part of open source enterprises are on the whole less experienced than their counterparts in large, established companies. While they value diversity, open source communities are not experienced in actually working with a diverse set of people, and don’t understand the role played by process.

Open source communities are long on creativity but very short on process. In open source, process is a dirty word, bringing to mind long, tedious meetings and rules that control software development. I’m not one to advocate rigid procedures, but a degree of process is necessary for a diverse group to work together. Written specs, schedules, deliverables, feature and UI freeze dates — product development doesn’t happen without these. In the absence of process, contributors in the areas of user experience, QA, and information design can’t do their work.

People attracted to open source projects like to think of themselves as outliers: people who don’t fit a norm, and who don’t like the status quo. I was drawn to open source because I am implacably opposed to the hierarchy/dominator model of human organization, and I see open source as a force pulling in the opposite direction, toward a participation/cooperator model. I value the outside-of-the-box open source personality. But every personality has its shadow side; for open source projects, it’s the philosophy of following no process. If I could change one thing about the open source projects in which I’ve been involved, it would be to inject a good dose of the processes I know, from my experience, work well.

Because in diverse organizations, process is really just a set of agreements about how to work together.

How Dumb Can You Get?

Star Trek fans: remember those Next Generation episodes in which Data would do something out of character, and Picard would suspect Data was malfunctioning? Picard would say, “Data, perform a self-diagnosis,” and Data would search through his circuits (he was an android, oh you non-Trekkies), find the problem, and tell Geordi exactly where to perform the repair or download the patch.*

So why doesn’t my Mac tell me where to find the System Preferences?

I’m in the process of doing a rapid review of Mac Help, since I will be working on some aspect of it. My first stop was the Spotlight Help, for the simple reason that though I realized that my Mac contained something called Spotlight, and that Spotlight had something to do with finding things, I had never actually used it.

I opened the topic “Setting Preferences for Spotlight,” and read:

1. Open System Preferences and click Spotlight.

Eh? Open System Preferences? And where might I find System Preferences?

Okay, I know where to find System Preferences. But what if I was a naive user? What if I was Bart’s Mom? The instructional designer who wrote this help should have included, as part of step 1, exactly how to perform the step. So like a typically annoying new employee, I asked about this at a meeting. It turns out that it is deliberate, because the writers at Apple are faced with the same problem as Help writers everywhere: the Mac OS, unlike Commander Data, is unable to explain itself.

Normally, the writer solves a problem like this either by writing more text (“Open the Apple menu and choose System Preferences”), or by including a picture of the interface element that must be clicked. But we want less text, not more! And we don’t want to bulk up Mac Help’s footprint by including a bunch of pictures.

And most of all, we think it’s just plain silly. Why should we have to embed a picture of the System Preferences icon into the Help steps, when the darned thing is just sitting down at the bottom of the screen in the Dock, where the user can plainly see it if he or she only knew where to look?

Why isn’t the Mac smart enough to say, “You want Preferences? Wait a sec; I’ll circle the icon for you.” Or, even better, “Allow me. I’ll open it for you.”

Amusingly enough, the Mac used to do this back in the day, when Mac Help was based on Apple Guide. But the Apple Guide technology wasn’t pushed forward and is no longer used.

I think the reason why we never seem to make any headway in online help is because the Powers That Be continue to see it as a replacement for “The Book.” Even in open source projects like Flock — actually, especially Flock — the people making the decisions see online help as something external to the product. It’s like the little paper manual that comes with the refrigerator or washing machine.

But online help is not a book! Online help is the machine explaining itself. It should be like Data on Star Trek. But when the machine can’t show you where it keeps its icons, or menus, or whatever you’re trying to find — well, then it just looks like a dumb refrigerator.

——–

* Okay, sticklers, in “The Schizoid Man” Data is unable to detect the problem, due to sabotage.

Rewind

I’m at Apple.

For the past few days I’ve felt like I’m in a time warp. I’ve rewound my life, and returned to Apple. I’ve resumed my old position as an instructional designer, in my old department, with several of my old friends. I’m back in the old building on Infinite Loop, just down the hall from the office where I used to sit. I’ve even got my old employee number and email address!

Did the past eight years really happen? Did I leave Apple for Netscape, and work on Navigator and Mozilla and Flock? I must have, because my brain seems to be filled with information about browsers that can only come from over-exposure.

The beauty of it is, several of my fellow Netscapees are here, two. They came to Apple, of course, to create Safari, and now I get to work with them once again.

For a while now I’ve had it on my mind to write a little something about why it turned out to be so hard to work at Flock, much as I loved the place. And why I find it so hard — impossible, maybe — to work on open source projects in general.

I’ve come to a two-pronged conclusion about it: open source communities are tough on women, and open source communities are tough on non-engineers. Since I’m a female non-engineer, I’m doubly cursed.

Soon I will share the stories that support this two-pronged conclusion. But for now I must continue rewinding my professional life back to Apple.

It’s good to be back.

Shanghai Simply

Saturday Nancy had to teach all day, so I was on my own. I spent the morning in the hotel, writing. In truth I was a little homesick, missing my family and my dog Alfie. I checked my email and instead of messages from my family found Flock Bugzilla (software bug) reports. I could see that Flock’s UI has changed yet again, just as I predicted. I downloaded the latest Flock and found the help text I’d written a week ago is now hopelessly out of date. But I have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, so it is okay.

In afternoon I ventured out into the neighborhood around the hotel, all by myself. After the previous day’s adventure I hesitated to explore alone, but the fact that I am writing this attests that I made it back, safe and sound. I was very proud that during my walk I located the restaurant, Simply Thai, where Nancy and I had dinner reservations for the evening. Simply Thai is highly recommended by both my guidebooks. I found it in a very international section of our hotel’s neighborhood, the Xuhui district, also known as part of the French Concession.

The French Concession — called that because when the colonial powers divided up the city (didn’t they always do that?), this was the French part — is a vast, sycamore-lined section of Shanghai. From our hotel window we look down onto Hengshen Street, and it’s like looking into a forest. The trees are large and numerous. There are two or three restaurants and bars per block, and lots of shopping opportunities.

I found a store I’d been hoping to locate — Simply Life. It was next door to Simply Thai restaurant. It turns out they are related, and they are both trendy spots. The store sells a Simply Life branded design on silk placemats, boxes, and jewelry bags; it also sells Asianera labeled porcelain ware, a design I’d never seen but immediately liked. I did a little early Christmas shopping.

When Nancy returned from teaching, we strolled to the restaurant, and I felt like a cool person who knew where she was going. The food was very good, but sadly, we were show to the worst table in the place. I wish I could rave about the place, because I love Thai food and this is reputed to be the best Thai restaurant in Shanghai. But when we arrived we were ushered past the pleasant outdoor garden tables, and upstairs to a small hot room and a tiny table next to the kitchen. The staff nearly climbed over me and my chair as they passed back and forth. A screaming baby completed our misery. Since I had reserved this table twelve hours earlier, in the morning, I expected better. So if you’re going to Shanghai, my advice is to bypass Simply Thai, or else be very clear about where you want to sit.

On our way out, Nancy discovered that some of her students who were also dining at Simply Thai. One of the students apparently dines there every time he comes to Shanghai.

On Sunday I was on my own again, while Nancy did her last day of teaching. I repeated my walk, going farther this time and taking photos. I walked by the Iranian consulate (which is well-guarded), and shopped in two small stores: Madame Mao’s Dowry, and Skylight. Madame Mao’s is a good place to find vintage clothing, China-style, and propaganda memorabilia.

In the evening we took a taxi ride out to the Bund, and had dinner at Shanghai’s famous and fancy restaurant, “M on the Bund.” M is on the seventh floor of one of the Bund’s neat old buildings. We were offered seating on the balcony, where we could see Shanghai’s famous skyline at night. We had to peer through the smog, which was the worst I’ve ever seen, but the Shanghai skyline is amazing.

The food at M was excellent. Nancy had the rare seared tuna, with garlic mashed potato and vegetables. I had the couscous “with three meats.” Both were superb. Dessert was not quite as exciting, but we should have known better than to order it, since we’d already eaten enough.

We were able to get a taxi right outside M on the Bund, and returned to the hotel promptly to get a good night’s sleep.

Goodbye Flock, Hello Shanghai

I am writing from Shanghai. It’s Friday, May 19th here; it’s also Friday May 19th in California, according to my calculations.

One week ago I finished up my consulting gig with Flock, turning in an updated Flock User’s Guide and the last bit of UI text, knowing full well that the UI would continue to change so that what I wrote in the User’s Guide will soon be obsolete. There’s nothing I can do about it from China. I’m hoping someone else at Flock will continue to update the User’s Guide. To find out, just download the latest Flock, start it up, and choose Help from the Help menu. If what you read in the help text matches what you see on the screen, the User’s Guide has been kept up to date. Otherwise, you’re on your own!

But back to Shanghai. I’ve traveled here with my friend Nancy, who I’ve known ever since the days we both worked at Stanford’s Hoover Institution. We were two liberals working as research assistants for Hoover fellows. I was an expatriate Yale graduate student and Nancy was a Stanford graduate student. We met during an earthquake.

Nancy is now a professor at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, which has sent her to Shanghai to teach in a satellite MBA program. I’m along for the ride. We’ve been here three days, counting the day we arrived when we were too tired to do anything but check into our hotel and find the nearest restaurant.

We are staying at the Regal International East Asia Hotel, where we’ve been treated very kindly. The hotel is beautiful. The rooms are comfortable and supply a high speed Internet connection. Haagen-Daz can be delivered 24 hours a day. The staff makes sure we don’t get lost, by giving us cards to hand to cab drivers. The cards apparently say something like, “Please take these poor lost ladies back to the hotel.”

Oddly, when we first arrived the hotel’s lobby was decked out with Israeli banners and signs. The hotel’s restaurant had a large sign proclaiming “Israeli Culinary Week.” The sign and banners have been removed, so evidently Israeli week is finished. We found no evidence of Israeli cuisine in the breakfast buffet, but were quite happy with the fresh lychee fruits and prepared-to-order eggs.

The hotel is located in the district of Shanghai known as the Old French Concession. Our first evening here we walked along the main street (Hengshan Lu), past clothing stores, salons, and bars that all seem to stay open late. The street is lined with large trees and beautiful architecture. We strolled in search of Yang’s Kitchen, a restaurant recommended by my Fodor’s guidebook.

Yang’s was found at the end of an alley, and turned out to be a peaceful and inexpensive place. We were served crispy tofu cut into the shape of hearts — beautiful!

Negotiating Hengshan Lu quickly taught us that traffic does not necessarily stop for pedestrians. The cab drivers — one of whom had given us a terrifying ride from the airport to the hotel — treat anyone crossing the street as a mere obstacle to be swerved around or (preferably) frightened away.

Back at the hotel Nancy and I opted for foot massages, thinking we needed something to combat jet lag and help us relax. The foot massage was one of the most painful things I’ve ever paid money for, and we won’t be repeating it. It’s the only thing about the hotel that I don’t recommend.

The next day we spent at the Shanghai museum at People’s Square, and today we tried the metro, walked along the Bund, and visited the pearl shops near the Yu garden. Quite an adventure, and I’ll write more about it later. For now, Nancy has gone to teach her class, and I’m relaxing in the hotel room — thinking about ordering some Haagen-Daz.

technorati tags: Shanghai

Deprived of Words, We Labor On

The estimable Lloyd has asked me to put into writing my philosophy of instructional design for on-screen reading, which can be summed up in seven words:

"We have their attention for five words."

(Note the irony)

People don't read anymore. I'm not sure how anyone becomes educated these days, because from what I've observed in usability testing, people are not going to read to the end of this sentence, much less finish Moby Dick.

But still we wish to communicate with these word-deprived people. Technical writing research scientists are hard at work these days, searching for new ways to reach people whose eyes automatically slide away from the content-loaded text on the screen and over to the little blinky thing on the left.

One concept is to communicate mostly in screen captures. So instead of writing "Open the File menu and choose New Blog Post," the author presents a little picture of the File menu, open, with the pointer resting on the New Blog Post option. Maybe you'll even throw in a little picture of the bog editor window, with an arrow implying that an open editor window is the consequence of choosing New Blog Post. This approach is promising, and I'm trying to adopt it in my own work. (Perhaps one day you'll tune into this blog and find a post composed entirely of screen pictures!)

My own personal concept, my favorite alternative, is to re-write all user's guides as graphic novels. If I could draw, or work with an illustrator, that's the approach I'd use. I'd love to write an explanation of the client-server relationship entirely in cartoons!

Meanwhile, we must do our best. The open source community is especially taxed, because it has sensed the need to communicate more effectively with "end users," but doesn't know how, and doesn't employ a lot of technical writers.

So here are six tips for writing clear documents. If you follow these tips, your sentences will be shorter with no sacrifice of meaning. These tips take less than one minute to read.

Number 1: Use direct verbs

USE: "Now that the basic files are ready, we can create the topbar."
NOT: "Now that the basic files are ready, the topbar can be created."

Number 2: Speak directly to the reader, as if you're having a dialog

USE: "If you don't have experience with XUL, you may want to read the tutorial."
NOT: "If the reader doesn't have experience with XUL, he or she may want to read the tutorial."

Number 3: Use present tense

USE: "In the chrome.manifest file, we define the important directories."
NOT: "In the chrome.manifest file, we will define the important directories."

Number 4: Keep text as short as possible

USE: "Click OK."
NOT: "Click the OK button at the bottom of the dialog box."

Number 5: Avoid quotation marks

USE: "Open the Flock menu"
NOT: "Open the 'Flock' menu"

Number 6: Don't use all caps; avoid capitalizing tools, widgets, etc.

USE: "Creating a Flock topbar"
NOT: "Creating a Flock Topbar" or "Creating a Flock TOPBAR"

It may seem that there is no relationship between the subject of this blog post and the topic about which I claim to be writing: namely, exposing and trashing the Dominator Model.

But if you look hard enough, you'll find that everything is related to the Dominator Model. For the abbreviated attention spans that seem to keep people from reading more than five words at a time, I blame the patriarchy.

Phase Shift

Time for a reorg!

Yesterday was my last day as a regular Flock employee; possibly the last day as a regular employee of anybody. I'm re-defining myself as a consultant. Depending on business, and my sense of discipline, I should have plenty of time to spend writing my anti-dominator model rants into this blog. Hurray! And I'll also get more exercise, eat healthy food, do yoga, organize my closets, floss my teeth, and rotate my tires.

Accordingly, my blog's title has changed. I hope y'all like it.

Gotta Run Now!

C'était bref, mais court.

Sad to say, I have decided to depart from Flock and from open source endeavors in general. I'm going to ride off into the sunset. Not on a horse — No, I want one of those light green vespas.

During this period of relative quiet between milestones, it has become clear to me that Flock doesn't need a principal writer. I've done a lot of writing at Flock, and helped Eli conduct usability studies; I've even written the staff biographies. But I'm not doing much design, and design is what I love to do, and what I do best.

Although nearly all software companies insist on referring to what I do as "technical writing," I'm really an instructional designer. I analyze the users, figure out what they need to learn about a piece of software, discover how they like to learn, break down their objectives into sets of simple tasks, and, finally, make it easy for them to find the smallest bit of knowledge that will let them continue on their way, doing whatever it was they were doing before they were rudely interrupted by a lack of information.

Much as I like working at Flock, where I get to be among smart, interesting people all day, and where I've learned more in the past six months than I did in the previous four years, I'm not doing enough design to keep me challenged and engaged. And I have concluded that open source projects, in general, are not structured to take advantage of my particular skills.

I know, I know, open source equals open community and everyone gets to contribute. But Flock is my third open source project, and I find myself back in the role I didn't like at Mozilla, and that I was just starting to dislike at Eazel when it folded. I have become a "wordsmith." Not that there's anything wrong with that! Actually, I like the sound of the term "wordsmith," and I am flattered when people refer to me that way. (I'm not so sure I'm worthy of the term — Geoffrey is more of a wordsmith than I am, in the sense that he forges new words — good ones, too!)

Here's my role as a wordsmith: during the intense three or four weeks before a major milestone, people bring me word-deprived objects: dialog boxes, menu items, error messages, etc. They ask me to come up with coherent text. I can do that, no problem. But I'd rather be in on product design from the beginning, at the point where features are designed and named.

It seems to me that a wordsmith provides a service: you bring me a dialog box that needs to be re-worded, or a wiki that needs to be re-organized, or a release notes document that has committed apostrophe abuse, and I fix it up.

A designer, on the other hand, works with a team to create something new.

While I don't mind providing a wordsmithing service, what I really like to do is design.

You may remember one of Apple Computer's early television ads for the Macintosh. The ad showed a big, daunting stack of books — representing all the manuals a customer would get with an IBM PC. Suddenly, an elegant, slim, white volume dropped from the sky and landed softly on the table — the Macintosh manual.

Apple understood, early on, that the manual was part of the product. This understanding was reflected in the position of the Apple publications group within the larger company. As an instructional designer at Apple, a writer is involved early in a product's cycle. The writer is there for planning and execution, and of course, for the party at the end.

I'm not saying that Apple is a mecca for writers. But at Apple, the book that goes in the box, and the UI text and help system that go in the machine, have to look good. Apple's words are on the front line of communication with customers, and Apple knows that. Apple's manuals and help systems win awards as a result.

And I'm not saying that good design can't come from open source projects. I think that remains to be seen. Flock has a shot at it. Flock is currently looking for a good User Experience person to hire. (If you know of any, send them to flock.com.) If open source projects in general, and Flock in particular, can figure out the magical re-structuring that allows non-engineers to be part of the core team, then they may become the mecca for designers.

I'll be watching and cheering from the wings.

Good luck, Flockers! And thanks.

P.S. I'm not giving up blogging. I will continue to write in this space. Maybe Geoffrey can come up with a new name for "Vera's Flock Blog."

Update

The Flock staff sat down together last Friday for an uncomfortable meeting, and I’m happy to report that it went really well.

We met to discuss culture — open source culture, mass culture, but mostly Flock’s culture. Specifically, we met to figure out what went wrong in our response to the “rape humor” thread on one of our lists. We reviewed what was written, and those who had responded to the “humor” had a chance to explain why and how they had responded.

Everyone had a chance to speak. No one was interrupted. It was as if we had an invisible talking stick. (Giggle and make New Age jokes, if you like — the talking stick system works.) For my own part, I was very relieved to hear my co-workers affirm that the thread under discussion was offensive to them just at it had been to me. And I felt understood, on this subject at least.

In the future, if offensive talk comes up in a Flock forum, Flock will have a more unified message. We’ll articulate our values more clearly.

When there’s uncomfortable subject matter to discuss, the easiest thing in the world is to duck out of it — to find other, more pressing subjects, to be distracted by the latest firedrill — anyone who has been in a long-term relationship knows the avoidance tactics! But we stayed at the table and discussed this uncomfortable topic until we understood each other.

I am very proud of us.

The Community of Words

“Strike three, you’re out,” they say. But strike three arrived and I’m still here. And that guy who’s lobbing curves balls at me–I’m not going to let him chase me away. I’m not going to budge; not one inch.

I keep hearing from one of the Flock engineers, “But I *like* our frat-boy culture!” Could it be that the boy’s club that is the open source community has just allowed into its midst one of the scariest of frat-boy-busting characters: a feminist?

Yes, it could.

In case one of my three readers doesn’t know what the third strike was, bear with me while I re-cap the whole ball game.

Strike one came when I realized, one caffeine-deprived afternoon, that I couldn’t finish a sentence during meetings at Flock, because I’m never quite loud enough to make myself heard over all the guys interrupting me. (I write much louder than I talk.)

Strike two came a few days later when I was poking around in some of Flock’s test blogs, and discovered that a couple of the “boys” had been testing Flock’s ability to put naughty pictures into blog posts.

I’ll pause while WordPress collapses from the rush to Flock’s test blog… no, wait, the pictures are gone now, so just stay here and let me tell you about strike three.

Strike three came when I was able to get my face out of my computer’s screen long enough to read my accumulated email. I found a conversation that curled my hair. On one of Flock’s lists, a poster characterized a software utility, one that modifies other software, as a rapist. The utility would “strip” the other software, “not caring” what the other software wanted. Poster number two chimed in with “I’m horny.” In other words, all that talk about rape was making him hot.

That was bad, but my hair was just a little wavy at that point. The real hair-curling came when the conversation continued, with another poster complimenting the first guy on his “way with words,” and a fourth — a teenager — finding the whole thing very funny.

Yes siree, we’re really setting an example for the youth.

Two other Flock staffers posted comments reminding the list that this sort of talk is not acceptable, and that it drives people away from a community that should be inclusive and welcoming. A storm of protests ensued, mostly defending the rape talk as harmless humor and excoriating the Flock staffers as unsmiling wonks who wanted to infringe on freedom of speech, comparing them to the people in the Middle East rioting over cartoons.

After watching from the wings for a while, and being acutely aware that by my silence I was giving tacit approval to the rape talk, I finally posted. I talked about the degree to which sexual violence is a part of our culture — a part of the world’s culture, really, though a significant portion of the world doesn’t even keep statistics on the frequency of rape. I talked about how repugnant it is, to someone who has been on the other side of sexual assault, to see people make light of it.

This was not quite the wake-up call I’d hoped it would be. I received some support, and to those posters I’m sending virtual roses every day (can you see them?). But most people, and that includes several Flock staffers, didn’t see the dirty little message inside this fracas: that the open source community is at times pretty offensive, and that many within it think that’s just fine.

During the brawl, one person contributed something that really stuck in my mind. He wrote, “One of the things that I think people will find irresistible is the outlaw nature” of our community.

Well, yes. That’s what I find irresistible. To put it another way: We are witnessing the birth of the Internet, which is creating a change so fundamental that the culture of the entire world is shifting under our feet. And we are seeing the old way of doing things — the way of big money, repressive government, and anti-competitive corporations — trying to assert itself and take over and control this change. Standing in opposition is an audacious group of people saying that they’ve got a new way, the open source way, where people cooperate and share. Irresistible? Damn right, I find it irresistible.

But violent language? No. Words communicate ideas, and violent words communicate violent ideas. If we really want to promote cooperation and sharing, we can’t do it while speaking the language of violence and domination.

There’s an old, tired idea that’s leaving the world now, in our own age and before our eyes. It’s an idea that has been universally accepted and has guided most of the world’s major religions, governments, enterprises, and forms of human organization.

The idea is patriarchy: organization by hierarchy, by power, by domination and submission, by haves over have-nots. It is what I call the dominator model.

The dominator model isn’t skulking away with its tail between its legs, and it’s not rushing the hell out of here like Wormtongue running away from Gandalf.

The dominator model won’t go quietly and it won’t go quickly. It goes kicking and screaming, hangs on as long as it can, and tries to raise as much hell as possible on the way out. It has got its tendrils in our souls and asks us to give voice to its beliefs. One of its beliefs is that it feels good to dominate others; that in fact it is only natural to want to dominate others, and it’s in the nature of men to want to dominate women.

Let’s not give voice to that lie.