Why Can't We Have Nice Things?

by Barry Rueger

Every day, and in every way, it feels like life has become an endless battle against bad software.  No, not my trusty Linux Mint laptop, or even (mostly) LibreOffice, but just about everything else, and especially any phone app.  So, dear programmers, here are my requests.

Your software has to work all of the time.  Period.  I've lost all patience with programs that work some of the time, but then crap out the next day.  Yes, bugs crop up, no matter how hard we try, but with phone apps especially it too often feels as if something half-finished was shoved out the door.

Your interface should never, ever change.  One reason for abandoning Microsoft was because things that seemed fine suddenly get updated and work differently.  Things I use daily would disappear into obscure sub-menus, or just cease to exist.  Remember, 90 percent of computer use is based on muscle memory and unconscious actions.  Your fingers automatically do what your brain wants.  In other words, Ctrl-X and Ctrl-V should never, ever, change.

Bluetooth sucks 10 percent of the time.  Either because it takes too many steps to connect, or because it's Thursday and has just concluded that it doesn't want to work.  And especially in cars, which surely is the only place with software worse than phone apps.  Speaking of which...

I do not need another parking app on my phone.  Seven of them is enough, and only two of them work reliably.  There's utterly no reason why you would write yet another parking app.

I do not want to update your software right now - either I'm in the middle of actual work, or I sense that almost certainly the update will break something I need.  For years now, I put off doing any update until I know I have time to fix what it breaks.

If your phone app demands a six number code for two-factor authentication, have the good manners to change the keyboard to a number pad.

If your phone app expects an email address, have the good manners to give me a keyboard layout that includes an "@" sign.

I really, really do not need another parking app on my phone.  Seriously.

No, I do not want notifications.  Ask me once, then bugger off.

No, I do not want your app or program to beep at me.  Ask me once, then bugger off.

No, I do not want your app or program to suddenly switch to "night mode."

No, I neither need nor want any of your "Themes."

No, I do not want my data stored on your cloud, no matter where it is.  Ask me once, then bugger off.  This is especially true because sometimes there's actually no Wi-Fi, or even no 5G signal.  If your app or program can't work without those, I don't want them.

No, I do not want your AI suggestions.  Or your horrible and useless AI chat bot.

Advertising.  I prefer open-source, but will actually pay for software if it works well.  (When I say "pay," I mean "buy," not "subscribe.")  I will also immediately remove any program that serves up more advertising than actual useful functions.  On my computer, or on my phone, unsolicited ads will turn me off immediately.

Are the conventions that we use in software perfect?  Probably not.  Should you change them just because you have a better idea?  Not if you want me to use it.  Everyone at 2600 has surely heard the story about how the QWERTY keyboard was designed to slow down typists, and how Dvorak is better, but the truth is that 99 percent of people are happy with QWERTY, and it would bug the heck out of them if you changed it.

In all of the above list, there's one common thread: software companies have abandoned offering support to customers.  More often than not, their website has no phone number and no email address.  Maybe a web form, but more likely a brain dead chat bot.  Trust me, by the time I've reached any of those, I've already tried every fix I can think of, and most of what I can find on Reddit or forums.  If I can't actually contact you with a question, your software disappears.

And did I mention, I really, really do not need another parking app on my phone.