GeekPress links to an interesting story about the frustration that Dvorak keyboard enthusiasts feel about having their preferred keyboard layout left out of most smart phones. Here’s an interesting tidbit:
When American inventor Christopher Sholes developed the first modern typewriter in the 1860s, the keyboard layout was in alphabetical order. That was problematic: When two neighboring keys were pressed in rapid succession, the machine jammed. Mr. Sholes later rearranged the layout, placing the most commonly used keys away from each other. Like that, “qwerty” was born. The name comes from the first six keys on the upper left row of letters on the keyboard.
Now many of this have heard or read this before, but it bears repeating: the keyboard you are using was deliberately designed to be difficult to use. It was designed to make typing slow.
Probably the second or third implementation of typewriter technology overcame the key-sticking problem that originally led Sholes to take such drastic action. But by then the damage was done. QWERTY was established, and it has managed to hang in through the age of the IBM Selectric to the introduction of the personal computer and all the way to the iPhone.
Will we ever abandon QWERTY? That’s a tough question. It’s a well-established standard. And however effective a replacement standard (Dvorak or some other) might be, nobody wants to have to learn how to type on a keyboard with a different layout. We face a similar problem in the US with the metric system. The metric system is more logical, easier to learn, and much more widely accepted than the English system. But switching over would be a huge pain in the butt.
Now we could start teaching kids to use a new keyboard standard — without burdening those of us who know the old way — but that would require maintaining two standards. Our computers would support that just fine; unfortunately, we currently lack on-the-fly key relabeling. So in a two-standard world, keyboards would either be labeled confusingly with more than one letter on each key, or people would always be running the risk of having to use the wrong kind of keyboard. (Which of the two standards would a public kiosk use? What if you need to borrow your spouse’s laptop?)
So I don’t know. We might not get rid of QWERTY until we get rid of — or massively reduce dependence on — keyboards by way of the Conversational User Interface.
But all this QWERTY talk makes me wonder if there aren’t a number of other QWERTies out there — artifacts of a bygone era that provide clearly sub-optimal solutions, but that we keep around because of the enormous inertia associated with them. QWERTY is kind of a pure example because it was deliberately designed to be slow. The English measurement system was not designed to be quirky and confusing — the folks who came up with it were doing the best they could — and it only seems quirky and confusing when compared to a subsequent, more logical system.
Still, I think it’s fair to say that the English measurement system is a QWERTY. And speaking of English QWERTies, how about English spelling? As many critics have pointed out over the years, our current spelling conventions are hardly the most efficient and logical way of expressing the language in writing:
Why does the English language have so many words that are difficult to spell? The main reason is that English has 1,100 different ways to spell its 44 separate sounds, more than any other language. Some of the results of this are:
Words that have the same sounds but are spelled differently,
Words that contain letters that have nothing to do with the way the words are pronounced,
Words that contain silent letters; that is, letters that must be included when you write the words even though they are not pronounced,
Spelling rules that have lists of exceptions – words that do not follow the rules and thus must be memorized separately.
But for all those problems, spelling would be a difficult problem to solve. Do you think a Dvorak keyboard looks strange? Do you find talk of liters and meters and degrees Celsius confusing? Well, that stuff is a piece of cake compared to the kinds of changes we would have to make in order to clean up English spelling.
Standards of various kinds are not the only QWERTies out there. There are other deeply embedded social norms that have achieved QWERTY-hood or that are well on their way to becoming QWERTies. How about the idea that everybody needs a land-line phone connection in his or her home? There is a growing group of folks who have decided that that’s a QWERTY — and they get by just fine with their mobile connection. Or how about the idea that having a job means showing up at an office (or other workplace) every day? As telecommuting presents itself as an increasingly viable option for more and more jobs, mandating employee presence at “the office” every day — at least for certain occupations — begins to look more and more QWERTY-like.
Our future of post-scarcity promises to turn our entire view of “employment” — at least insofar as we have defined it as a prerequisite to earning a living — into a QWERTY. It seems likely to me that there are a number of QWERTies lurking in our current educational and health care infrastructure.
Moreover, speaking of infrastructure, how many QWERTies are embedded in the technologies we rely on every day? How many QWERTies are there in your car, your telephone, your computer, your refrigerator?
And take it a step further — what QWERTies are built right into the human machinery? I can think of at least one whopping QWERTY that we evolved ourselves into and that we would do well to be rid of. There must be others.
Let’s discuss.