CHI at the movies and on tv

Can you remember the first science fiction movie you ever saw? What about the first science fiction program you ever saw on television? Can you remember what you thought about the user-interface design or user experience of any computer-based telecommunication system presented in these shows? And what about today? Do you cast a critical eye on the technology and its use whenever you watch the latest movie or video presentation about a world of the future? I thought about these questions as I contemplated my own earliest memories. I am not the most dedicated sci-fi junkie, but I have been interested in visions of future worlds since I was small kid growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, more than half a century ago. Back then, I feasted on Marvel’s Weird Science Fantasy comic books, If and Galaxy science fiction pulp magazines, and Ace doublenovel science fiction softcover books (which had a front cover on each end of the book and half of the book printed upside down). It was also during this time that I discovered H.G. Wells’s War of the Worlds and 1984. Television was in its first decade and featured Captain Video and Tom Corbett, Space Cadet. Even then Buck Rogers had been featured in movies and appeared on television. Heroes and villains occasionally spoke to and from wall-mounted flat-video displays, although most of the communication took place with desktop microphones and the occasional loud speaker. Control panels consisted of elaborate dials and gauges. I remember during the days of live television when one of Captain Video’s copilots accidentally knocked over the entire control panel (which probably consisted mostly of cardboard coated in metallic spray paint) and the entire desk-size apparatus fell over from the wall of their spaceship. Captain Video deftly picked it up and commented, “Luckily no wires were broken, Steve” (or whatever his copilot was named), then continued on with the show, as if nothing had happened. These early experiences with images of future technology must have influenced my own early interest in user-interface design because when I was about ten years old, I built a “rocket-ship control panel” in the basement of my house, complete with blinking lights, plus dials, gauges, and clicking knobs salvaged from old radios, my father’s odds and ends, or local trashcan treasures. I don’t recall thinking about usability in my design; I focused more on the emotional impact of blinking lights. With this “sophisticated apparatus,” my brother and I could make fantasy trips to distant planets and communicate with extra-terrestrials, at least in our imaginary use scenarios.