OS X Lion and now OS X Mountain Lion (due out this summer) showcase that Apple’s increasingly interested in building global and focussed systems across its various devices. Some pundits misunderstand Apple’s ‘Back to the Mac’ approach as a medium-term goal to merge OS X and iOS. Really, Apple’s instead moving to a place where the OS itself doesn’t matter so much as the equalisation of services, such as messaging, the syncing of notes, and so on.

But one of the big wins on iOS that’s coming ‘Back to the Mac’ is a sense of focus. As desktop PCs have grown in power and monitors have gotten bigger, we’ve rapidly moved from an environment for work to one of distraction. It’s far too easy to end up with a monitor full of windows, each fighting for attention, the net result being that no single window (and therefore no specific task) ever gets your full focus.

As of Lion, Apple introduced a full-screen mode for apps. This went beyond the kind of full-screen mode found in operating systems such as Windows by taking over the entire screen (not even leaving a menu bar or app launcher visible) and also, in the case of well-designed applications, adjusting the interface to be more appropriate for a full-screen view. On first installing Lion, I wasn’t entirely convinced by this new feature, not least due to having a 27-inch iMac, which made many apps in full-screen mode look ridiculous. But the sense of focus was useful, and I started using a handful of apps—Scrivener, WriteRoom, iCal, Mail—in full-screen mode, and I was thoroughly enjoying the experience.

And then I got sick.

Something abruptly went twang in my brain, and I realised I was getting dizzy quite a lot of the time. It took about a day before I realised that I was getting motion sickness from the full-screen transitions in OS X Lion. (I didn’t realise this more quickly, simply because I’d never previously had motion sickness.) I suddenly realised how heavily eye-straining animations are used within Lion, and tried avoiding them entirely. The result of this: significantly less dizziness.

Animations and animated transitions in operating systems are something that’s becoming increasingly common, and Apple’s a huge fan of them. Often, they are extremely useful, because they provide an indication of something that’s just happened or that’s happening right now. That might sound laughable, but for a newcomer to computing, this is a major advantage over the ‘instant’ interface responses older operating systems offered. The problem is that Lion is full of sliding—aside from switching apps in full-screen mode, you also have things like Preview, where moving between pages slides between them, and slide-based navigation in Safari.

From a default standpoint, I’m still not against these animations/transitions, because they are informative and give someone using OS X a sense of spatial awareness in a virtual space. In the case of a page of a PDF sliding upwards, you know which direction to go to get that page back. Similarly, if apps slide around in full-screen mode as you switch between them, you remember which app is where and can easily navigate to it. The problem is that there is no alternative. Whereas the Dock gives you Scale and Genie effects (along with the ‘hidden’ Suck), the sliding in Lion cannot be replaced with something that’s easier on the eyes, such as a cross-fade.

I realise that I’m an edge case, but I’ve received messages on Twitter and by email from people who have similar problems. I’m also currently working on a website for a charity that deals with people who have motion problems, and they’ve said that any scrolling can cause those they care for to have major dizziness issues. To that end, Lion—or at least many of Lion’s features—is entirely inappropriate for them, and that’s sad in an operating system that otherwise strives so hard to be broadly accessible.

I’m not sure what the solution is, and I don’t hold out any hope that Mountain Lion will help me. Apple is, after all, a company that reduces rather than increases options and very much takes a ‘this is right’ approach. I’ve sent feedback to Apple and done that thing and written to Tim Cook, explaining the problem. But I’d love to download Mountain Lion this summer and at least have the option to adjust the transitions that are adversely affecting me and, it seems, other Mac users. By all means leave the defaults as they are, but a crossfade replacement for sliding—even if it’s something you have to activate via Terminal—would be the most ‘magical’ thing Apple could offer me this summer.

Further reading (April 17): ReSpaceApp could solve OS X Lion motion sickness problems.

Via Fraser Speirs, an article by Alan J Reid called Instructional Designers Wanted: No Experience Necessary:

Apple recently unveiled its digital book-authoring program, iBooks Author, and I’m scared.

The last three years that I have dedicated to pursuing my Ph.D. in instructional design & technology, which centers on interactive digital text, have given me a new perspective on the delicate balance that is necessary for classroom technologies to be productive and fruitful rather than novel and superficial. The seemingly endless hours that I have spent reading journal articles, writing papers, reading book chapters, taking in lectures, reading conference proceedings, and reading some more, have left me feeling as though I have earned some sort of badge that licenses me to make qualified observations about new educational technologies.

But that’s just the problem; you don’t need to be qualified. iBooks Author allows any Apple user to design and develop an interactive, multitouch textbook. No design experience necessary.

Reid’s text echoes concerns we’ve seen in practically every single industry where digital has marched (and, sometimes, blundered) in and opened up that particular discipline. We’ve heard the same arguments in desktop publishing, photography and web design, and now we’re hearing it about textbooks.

I can’t deny that user-friendly digital products can make things tougher for professionals, because there’s a line of thinking that ‘anyone can do it’. But here’s the thing: eventually, enough companies come to the realisation that everyone can’t do it. I’m seeing graphic designers I know getting more work of late as companies stop faffing about creating their own botched attempts at marketing material and instead get professional designers to produce it. And online, web designers are once again finding that companies are understanding that, no, the MD’s nephew armed with an old copy of FrontPage isn’t the best way to present themselves to the world. These things are always cyclical, with professions mostly reverting to the pros—or at least those professionals who truly are great at what they do.

But that doesn’t mean we should ever rally against opening up creative pursuits to the masses. The fact that anyone can now make a website, or publish some photos, or—in the case of iBooks Author—create an interactive book is a fantastic thing. It means some people will find talents they never knew they had; others may be able to fill niche gaps that professionals and publishers cannot or will not; and in cases where funds simply aren’t available, I’d sooner someone bashes together a (hopefully) factually accurate digital book with perhaps less-than-optimal design using iBooks Author than have those they are teaching go without.

In short, empowering the masses is great; but there will always be room for good designers for things that need good design.

Most of the techie portion of the internet is talking about the iPad 3, after the usual rumour sites starting posting components of what might or might not be bits of the next Apple tablet. One of the most common rumours is that the next-gen device will get itself a Retina display, and Wired today started talking about the apps Apple should demo.

In the context of the iPhone and iPod touch, a Retina display means a display where it is—for people with standard eyesight—more or less impossible to resolve single pixels on the screen. Instead of jagged text and graphics, the 326ppi screen provides print-like imagery. By contrast, the current iPad is 132ppi—better than most computer displays, but lacking when directly compared to current iPhones and iPods. With the next iPad, the hope is that Apple would up the resolution to 2048-by-1536, and while this wouldn’t have the same pin-sharp qualities as the iPhone and iPod, it would nonetheless be tricky to resolve individual pixels unless holding the iPad closer than is sensible and comfortable. So no playing Sniff the Angry Birds for you, if you want to keep that illusion of smoothness in the graphics.

But here’s the thing: 2048-by-1536 is a massive display size. It’s bigger than 1080p (used by the 21.5-inch iMac) and wouldn’t even fit on the display of a 27-inch iMac. Think about that for a moment: a 1:1 recreation of an iPad Retina display would not fit on the largest display Apple currently ships. But said display is driven by a powerful computer, not a svelte tablet that doesn’t have the graphics grunt of a Mac or PC.

I’m quietly hopeful that Apple has some kind of genius/magic/pixie dust and will reveal an iPad 3 with a Retina display within the next two months. But this is dependent on various factors: the screen actually being of a high enough quality and possible to manufacture quickly enough in large numbers; such a display not adversely affecting performance (after all, it will require some serious GPU clout); battery life remaining very close to the existing seven-to-ten hours you can get from reasonably careful usage. Apple is not a company for bullet points—it leaves out technology if the rest of the device would be compromised. We’ve seen this in the iPhone with 3G on the original model and now with 4G. There’s every chance we could see the same on the iPad, which could end up with a rather more conservative refresh, along the lines of the iPhone 4S (perhaps getting a RAM and speed bump, Siri, and a better camera).

I’m sure if this happens, most of the tech press will use this as proof once again that Apple is doomed, Tim Cook is some kind of blundering fool who should immediately be fired, and that Android tablets will soon grab 99.9 per cent of the tablet market. Me, I think that an iPad 2S would sell like hot cakes, and that Apple should only bring in cutting-edge technology when it’s ready. If that happens to be this spring, great; if not, I’m more than happy to wait.

I wrote about the recent Path cock-up for .net earlier this week. The short version is that a dev was making a Path client for OS X and realised the iOS app was uploading his entire address book to Path’s servers. Path has since nuked all data it took and made the process opt-in, although the CEO had previously argued:

This is currently the industry best practice and the App Store guidelines do not specifically discuss contact information.

Since then, it’s been discovered that uploading your contacts isn’t an uncommon practice, and this led UI designer Dustin Curtis to say:

I fully believe this issue is a failure of Apple and a breach of trust by Apple, not by app developers. The expectation of Address Book privacy is obvious; in fact, one person on Hacker News, in response to learning about Path’s use of the data, said, “Apple would never do this to their users.” Because Apple has your trust and yet gives this private information freely to developers, Apple does do this to their users. All of them.

I find this argument outrageous. Apple’s terms state:

17.1: Apps cannot transmit data about a user without obtaining the user’s prior permission and providing the user with access to information about how and where the data will be used

17.2: Apps that require users to share personal information, such as email address and date of birth, in order to function will be rejected

But more to the point, why should Apple become a watchdog for the less-than-moral behaviour of some developers? Just because you can do something, that doesn’t mean you should. And if your app is grabbing and uploading personal data, you should figure out whether this is absolutely necessary, and also decide on how you’re going to inform the user that this is happening. It isn’t Apple’s job to stop you or make the decision about how you handle such data—that’s your job as a trustworthy developer.

Update: Ben Brooks disagrees:

If you live and play in the Apple world, you need only trust Apple. This is what Apple tells us — it’s a ‘feature’ of the Apple ecosystem.

The fact is, that in this instance, Apple broke that trust.

I’m not sure what the alternative is. No access to the data? Access only on opt-in (which people tap anyway, regardless and without thinking, and that drives admins bonkers)? But my point stands that Curtis’s argument that this is all down to Apple and not down to devs, despite the existing Apple terms, is hogwash.

On Twitter today, a couple of arguments continue to rage. One concerns Twitter, which, according to some people, has just turned into the BIG BAD of social networking, in having to deal with censorship. Elsewhere, Apple is being beaten into the ground by a number of tech pundits over supply chain issues, not least relating to human rights and labour.

I’m anti-censorship and also not thrilled by the situation endured by people building iPads and other Apple kit. But I also happen to be a realist: censorship will happen; goods will continue to be manufactured in places like China, by people working under conditions and for pay that would not be acceptable in many countries. To my mind, how we react to these things is therefore very important.

It’s increasingly apparent that many critics have joined yet another knee-jerk online mob. Twitter are evil! They censor things! Grrr! But what about Twitter’s rivals—how open are they? (Answer: mostly not very.) Do they provide pages with explanations regarding what is censored and how? (Answer: rarely.) And Apple is evil! But what about Apple’s rivals in computing, smartphones and tablets? How many of them use Foxconn and similar manufacturing companies? (Answer: the vast majority of them.) How many of them not only audit these places and stop working with those that don’t pass standards, but also make said auditing openly available? (Answer: I’ve no idea, but I’ve found no other examples like Apple’s. If you have, please let me know in the comments.) And now widen the target to other electronics, and even things like clothes. Are the things you’re buying all ethically produced? If so, congratulations (and I mean that sincerely), but I bet that’s a vanishingly small percentage of people reading this post; and if not, stop slamming one company out of a countless number manufacturing in China, not least because it’s seemingly at least doing something about the problems that are occurring there.

In the case of Apple, I’ve also had comments that Apple’s massive profits means it should lead by example and bring its manufacturing back into the USA and EU. But at that point, one of two things happens: Apple either ramps up its prices and becomes uncompetitive in terms of commerce, or its profits vanish, and it becomes a company that becomes uncompetitive in terms of investment. This could in a short period of time derail the company and ensure its rivals leapfrog it, bringing us back to square one, apart from the diminishing number of people working for a US/EU-only (or whatever) version of Apple. And that’s even suggesting it would be possible for Apple to do this—after all, ensuring some kind of US/EU-only manufacturing for every component would be a massive, possibly entirely unrealistic undertaking. Recently, it was reported that Chinese companies ended up manufacturing iOS devices not only because they were better from a costs standpoint, but also because nowhere in the USA had the capabilities.

As far as I can see, we now have two tech companies criticised for being, if not ‘good’, then at least the ‘least bad’. The ‘least bad’ isn’t something I typically champion, but I would argue that any element of openness from giant social networks and corporations is a good thing. Twitter’s openness about its censorship is something that should be praised, but that doesn’t mean you’re praising the censorship itself; likewise, Apple’s openness about its supply chain should be praised, but that doesn’t mean you back anything to do with the impact of Apple’s manufacturing, including from environmental, safety and human rights standpoints.

But to instead chastise these companies will merely encourage its rivals to clam up instead of following the examples of Twitter and Apple, to a point where change becomes more widespread and possible. I’m not saying things can’t and shouldn’t be better. I’m not saying we shouldn’t encourage them to do more—we very much should. But I am saying we shouldn’t be quick to simply slam those who are trying to improve things, even if the steps are much smaller than we’d like.