The Problem With 'Human-Computer Interaction'

Behind the Term There is a Catch

In the usability profession, the term 'interaction' is often used in a way that I believe obscures our fundamental understanding of technology. Dictionary definitions generally boil down to something like this:

interaction: a mutual or reciprocal action

The sense of mutualism is a key component of the meaning of 'interaction'. When you talk on the phone you are interacting with the person at the other end. When you go dancing together you are interacting physically and in many other fun ways. Dancing is an especially good example of interaction because, if it's done right, it is a very mutual exchange.

Sign Outside a University Building

 

In the User Experience Design field there is an often used acronym 'HCI' (or 'CHI') which means Human-Computer Interaction. How might we understand this use of the term? Well, if we do some simple word algebra and plug in the definition we have:

Human-Computer mutual or reciprocal action 

And that strikes me as strange and a little bit of a slippery slope. Is it a mistake or do people who use this term actually believe there is some sort of mutualism involved? If they do see it as mutualism then should we consider humans and computers to be somehow on a par? Are humans elaborate machines or are computers simplified humans? Or are we exactly the same?

I think the industry professionals and academics who bat this term around have some explaining to do.

If this were an isolated incident I would say it was just a minor matter. However the notion of humans-as-near-machines or machines-as-near-humans is not all that uncommon. It seems to be connected to some notion that there is a basis for equivalence between human beings and technology. This equivalence can be quite explicit or it can be fairly subtle. Our culture is full of examples.

We have fictional characters such as: HAL 9000; Data on Star Trek; C3PO; The Terminator; R2D2; Robby; Skynet; Sonny, the protagonist in I, Robot; etc. etc.

Some non-fictional, but still falling into the realm of excessive personification, we have: ENIAC; Pong, the sympathetic robot (and various other robo-puppets); Big Blue; and, coming up, IBM's latest AI prize fighter 'Watson' which (not who) will be soon demonstrated on the quiz show 'Jeopardy' against two of the show's champion contestants.

All of these fictional and non-fictional examples seem to be wrapped in an abundance of hype about the superiority of technology. The media laps it up and our culture sometimes displays an almost fetishist fascination with the idea of 'man-made intelligent life'.

So when you use your cell phone, are you interacting with it? Would you ever think that little voice coming out the ear piece is actually originating in your phone? Of course you wouldn't (I hope).

And neither will your computer ever interact with you on a mutual basis. As a mechanism for manipulating data or carrying messages amongst human beings it may help us be more informed or gain new perspectives on things. But is not a source of original ideas, feelings, intentions or values. There is no equivalence between humans and computers so there can be no interaction per se. The interaction is amongst ourselves, using the computer (or network of them) as an intermediary connecting element.

If we design software without a clear understanding of the distinction between humans, as originators of value, and the technological tools that we use to share this value, then we can easily fall into the usability wasteland of projecting primacy onto the computer system rather than users.

When we use ill-designed, technology-first software, we are, at best, hog tied to limited capabilities. We may find ourselves confronted with incomprehensible 'feedback' messages or meaningless 'error' codes. Worst of all, we are backed into a mindset of powerlessness that is exemplified by the phrase (often heard at customer support call centers) "I'm sorry, the system won't allow me to do that."

So the term HCI is really quite meaningless, if not a bit dangerous. It blurs a very important line between who we are and what our tools are. I think that distinction needs to be stressed, emphatically.