How iPad is Draining My Bank Account

My iPad arrived about three weeks ago, and I’ve been nothing short of addicted for 2 weeks and 23 hours or so. I don’t say this lightly, but quite frankly, it’s been the most fun I’ve ever had with a piece of technology. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with what you can do with it, but how you do it, and I can tell you that it confirms the suspicions I’ve had since it was first announced: this device will profoundly change the landscape of computing for the next decade. But I digress, if you want to hear me fanboy-gush about this thing more, talk to me in person.

Mine were not the only suspicions that were confirmed: a number of people posited that this device would excel primarily as a mechanism for content consumption. To be fair, I have created a number of shmancy Pages documents on it so far, but consumption is indeed where this device shines. And it’s bleeding my wallet dry. Here’s why.

Let me first note that a small part of the reason iPad is draining my bank account is because Hulu has yet to get their shit together and start offering iPad-compatible content. On one occasion, out of sheer laziness more than anything, the absence of Hulu has caused me to buy an episode I could have otherwise watched for free on my Mac, from my iPad on the iTunes Store. Hulu, please, I’m begging you: get it together. Don’t whine about it being hard (or let other people whine on your behalf), just launch the subscription model we all know you’re working on, and give us a nice, industry-kosher locked down app, and we’ll be happy.

There is something inherently beautiful about touch computing: it very clearly embodies what John Maeda has referred to as “humanist” computing, that is, machines bending over backwards to adapt themselves to humans rather than the other way around. (Incidentally, if you haven’t read his latest book, The Laws of Simplicity, do so ASAP, it’s a must for anyone who creates software or UI). Not only does it feel more comfortable and less “forced” than using a keyboard and mouse (for most tasks), but it encourages curiosity and exploration because it removes the fear of imposition — a phrase I just coined to mean “when something seems difficult or imposing, people are afraid to ‘play’, and refuse to explore and learn on their own.”

There’s a sense of overwhelmingness that is often created by many complex user interfaces, and a good chunk of that is instantly mitigated on the iPad by the fact that you’re holding the interface in your own hands: it gives the user a sense of control, like he or she really has power over the application at hand, rather than acting as a slave to its obtuse mandates. For that reason, usage directions almost become a thing of the past with touch interfaces. Sure, there are some interaction patterns that are a little confusing for first-time users, but the beauty of touch is that most users won’t be afraid to press buttons and try things, and will very quickly learn the ropes through discovery rather than instruction; and as we all know from experience, you remember the things you figure out on your own much better than the things you’re taught.

This kind of inherent childlike wonder that the platform has the potential to inspire is indeed why the iPad is deserving of the term “revolutionary,” at least from the standpoint of content producers: play your cards right, and you actually have the power to make people want to buy your content. The revolution in the iPad isn’t the device itself — let’s be honest, it’s far more a thoughtfully constructed evolution than it is a technological revolution — it’s its ability to actually excite people about using a computer, even a generation frightened by the very thought of computers (seriously, give your grandmother an iPad and watch in amazement). But once again, I digress into disgusting fanboyishness.

For my example, I’m going to use the iTunes Store and the iBookstore (the App Store is excepted for two reasons: a) it’s by necessity the primary mechanism for installing software on the iPad, so it doesn’t really count; and b) I’m actually not a huge fan, it’s kind of just a supersized version of the iPhone App Store). In just the past three weeks, I’ve already bought two books, two full albums, a Palladia concert film (iTunes link), two music videos (something I’d never actually consciously bought on iTunes), and a very large handful of individual tracks. Don’t get me wrong, I am ordinarily a regular patron of the iTunes Store, but it’s quite rare that I would have spent nearly $70 using just my iPhone and Mac in such a short period of time. What makes the difference?

The simple fact is that I had more fun on the iTunes Store on my iPad than on any of my other devices. The combination of the device itself and a brilliantly-adapted storefront encourages exploration on a whole new level — for instance, I never knew Palladia posted their concert films on the iTunes Store, which further led me to find a set of “making of classic albums” films that look terrific, and some cool music documentaries I’d (somehow) never even heard of. It’s like the “Wikipedia effect” for music, and it’s incredibly powerful.

When I say “Wikipedia effect,” I mean that thing that we all do when we’re bored: visit an article on Wikipedia, click a link in the body text, and 10 minutes later, you’ve made it from “American Top 40″ to “Catenary wires” (it’s possible, I just tried it).

There is incredible potential in the iPad, and that’s the ability to engage users as intimately as on the iPhone, for a much longer period of time, simply because of the physical comfort of the device itself. It’s not marketing, it’s intelligent design (not that kind), and I would argue that it’s even more effective. I think Apple picked up on it, too: I’ll be very curious to see what they do with iAd. If it’s anything like the experience I’ve been having with my iPad, they may have struck gold.

Add a Comment