Dopp Juice Archive

I often turn to my friends and family for feedback on the websites I build. They care about me and usually want to know what projects I’m working on. Why not tap into that interest to help improve my projects with real opinions from the outside world? The exchange usually goes like this: I’ll send out emails to a few people, explaining why the website is important and asking for their opinions on it. After a few days, I’ll receive one of two responses:

1. “Looks great!”
2. Silence.

This isn’t helpful, and it happens all too often in our culture. People don’t trust their own opinions. They either offer a vague pat on the back, or they avoid the interaction altogether. Most people are afraid of two things: they don’t want to offend, and they don’t want to look foolish. In other words, they’d rather keep their opinions to themselves. In this situation, I would love to hear any of these responses:

• I like the design, but when I read I keep getting distracted by the logo. Maybe it’s too bright.
• It’s really easy to navigate.
• The text is too small. It makes me not want to read it.
• I think it could use more color.
• Are there supposed to be more articles? The reference to articles at the bottom of the page made me expect more than I found.
• It’s pretty and easy to use. I understand everything on it. I can’t see anything that needs improvement.
• Woah. This is really confusing. I don’t even know where to click or what I’d be looking for.
• I found a link that doesn’t work. It’s in the last sentence on the “About” page.
• The content looks really helpful. I’m going to tell my gardening club friends about it. I think they’ll like the pesticide tips. Maybe you should make those easier to find, rather than buried at the bottom of the “About Plants” page.

Okay, I’m starting to ramble, but I hope you get my point. When I ask friends to review my work, I want to know how it impacts them. As unique people. They are human. Their opinions matter.When someone asks you for feedback, think out loud for them. Yes, they want to hear what they did well, but they also want to know where things can be improved. Be specific. Your opinion is valuable, even when it’s simply “I don’t get it.” Your friend will thank you. Thank you, friends.

The power went out last night. The hums and clicks of our television, our lightbulbs, our computers, our refrigerator, and our mind-numbing sense of technological tranquility all snapped off with a loud “ZZZ!” For the first time in San Francisco, I experienced silence. My first instinct was panic. My second was relief. Just sitting here at this computer screen right now (the power’s back, by the way), I have five browser tabs open to two email accounts, a google search, a news site, and this blog. I am fully and completely sucked into this cyber world of mental masturbation. But if the power went out again right now, I’d be forced to rub my eyes and go outside. Read a book. Communicate with people. Move. They say that families of alcoholics usually have a chief enabler — someone who makes it possible for the alcoholic to continue his or her destructive cycle. Pacific Gas and Electric (PG&E) is my chief enabler. My booze is the mind-numbing accessibility of everything on the web. It tricks me into thinking I’m being a productive member of society, but I remember the truth when the power goes out: I left my body and the outside world behind a long time ago. The interesting thing is, I’m not even that bad off (phase 1: denial). At least I limit my obsession to the internet. Walking around the city or this college campus, it’s rare to find someone without their ear connected to an iPod or a cellphone. These are completely antisocial devices — at least when you consider your geographic location. Yes, cellphones enable you to talk to whomever you want, whenever you want, but they also alienate the person standing next to you. And don’t get me started on the isolating effects of portable music players. With our technological revolution, we’re systematically pushing away and transforming our sense of reality. We need a leader — a highly respected organization that can steer us back to practical living. But for now, Iet’s just settle for the Backstreet Boys. They were playing a concert when a power outage hit Tuesday night. In a pitch-black room full of fans, they pulled out a megaphone and sang a capella.