What is Physical Interaction?

What defines physical interaction, and what makes for good physical interactive experiences? In The Art of Interactive Design, Chris Crawford defines interaction as a conversation with two actors who “listen, think and speak.” Physical interaction involves a give and take, and is not simply a reaction (for example, a viewer watching a movie) or participation (a couple dancing).

In “A Brief Rant on the Future of Interaction Design,” Bret Victor defines physical interaction in opposition to this video (produced by Microsoft) that envisions a future in which perfect happy people living in sterile environments (a la Ikea) passively swipe screens to interact with each other. Throughout the video, every need and desire is met in a homogenized manner – apparently, things don’t go wrong, and chaos does not exist.

Victor defines tools as objects that amplify human capabilities. He outlines the many capabilities of the human hand, and questions a future in which tactility is left behind for tools that are “Pictures Under Glass” and involve minimal human interaction (largely, swiping a screen). To Victor, this future fails to take advantage of the myriad capabilities of the human hand.

Crawford’s definition emphasizes collaboration with at least two players contributing and reacting. In my second Processing class this week at ITP, we moved from static code to creating an interactive drawing. To create a successful interactive painting, the designer has to let go of the controls and hand them over to the user – it’s a collaboration between programmer and user.

I like Bret Victor’s stance that we move away from a future vision that is largely “Pictures Under Glass” and instead, design interactions that take advantage of the human body’s capabilities, and the physical world (most likely requiring new, fantastic technologies!). Bret’s article made me think of E.M. Forester’s The Machine Stops, which I am currently reading for Video/Audio Lab. In the world of The Machine Stops, people in the not-so-distant future live in perfect sterile rooms and interact with the world by pressing buttons which respond with the items they need. There is no need to move, or physically interact with the world and each other. A sorry vision of the future indeed!

Over the summer, I read Diane Ackerman’s A Natural History of the Senses, which is filled with poetic descriptions of the human senses. Ackerman asks us to -

“Consider all the varieties of pain, irritation, abrasion; all the textures of lick, pat, wipe, fondle, knead; all the prickling, bruising, tingling, brushing, scratching, banging, fumbling, kissing, nudging. Chalking your hands before you climb onto uneven parallel bars. A plunge into an icy farm pond on a summer day when the air temperature and body temperature are the same. The feel of a sweat bee delicately licking moist beads from your ankle. Reaching blindfolded into a bowl of Jell-O as part of a club initiation. Pulling a foot out of the mud. The squish of wet sand between the toes. Pressing on an angel food cake. The near-orgasmic caravan of pleasure, shiver, pain, and relief that we call a back scratch.”

The book emphasizes our wonderfully tactile, natural and sensory world. I think good physical interaction should amplify and take advantage of human senses whether that is vision, smell, touch, or sound. I also think good physical interactions create an emotional response in the user such as delight or surprise. When I visited MOMA’s Rain Room in August, I enjoyed the sensory experience of controlling the rain simulation. It was a memorable experience because it was physical and visual, played with my senses and created an emotional feeling of delight.

Moma’s Rain Room, a la Instagram