The Design of Future Things (11 page)

Why does making something look more dangerous actually make it safer? Several people have taken up the challenge of explaining this result. In particular, the British researchers Elliott, McColl, and Kennedy propose that the following cognitive mechanisms are involved:

•
More
complex environments tend to be associated with slower driving speeds, the likely mechanisms being increases in cognitive load and perceived risk.

•
Natural
traffic calming, such as a humpback bridge or a winding road, can be very effective in reducing speeds, as well as being more acceptable to drivers. Carefully designed schemes, using the properties of natural traffic calming, have the potential to achieve a similar effect.

•
Emphasizing
changes of environment (e.g., highway or village boundaries) can increase awareness, reduce speed, or both.

•
Enclosing
a distant view or breaking up linearity can reduce speeds.

•
Creating
uncertainty can reduce speeds.

•
Combining
measures tends to be more effective than implementing individual ones but can be visually intrusive and may be costly.

•
Roadside
activity (e.g., parked vehicles, pedestrians, or a cycle lane) can reduce speeds.

The leading causes of accidental injuries and death in the home include falls and poisoning. Why not apply the same counterintuitive concept of reverse risk compensation? What if we made dangerous activities look more dangerous? Suppose we simultaneously made bathtubs and showers look more slippery (while actually making them less so). Suppose we designed stairways to look more dangerous than they really are. We might make some ingestible items look more forbidding, especially poisons. Would amplifying the appearance of danger reduce the occurrence of accidents? Probably.

How might the principles of reverse risk compensation apply to the automobile? Today, the driver is bathed in comfort, acoustically isolated from road noise, physically isolated from vibration, warm, comfortable, listening to music, and interacting with passengers, or perhaps talking on the telephone. (In fact, studies show that talking on a mobile phone while driving, even a hands-free telephone, is just as dangerous as driving while drunk.) There is a distancing from the events, a loss of situation awareness. And with the development of automatic devices that take over stability, braking, and lane keeping, there is an even greater distance from reality.

Suppose, however, that the driver could be removed from that comfortable position and placed outside, much like the stage coach driver of an earlier era, exposed to the weather, to the rushing air, to the sights, sounds, and vibrations of the road. Obviously, drivers would not permit us to do this to them, but how can we get back situation awareness without necessarily subjecting the driver to the harsh outside environment? Today, through the car's computers, motors, and advanced mechanical
systems, we can control not only how a car behaves but also how it feels to the driver. As a result, we could do a better job of coupling the driver to the situation in a natural manner, without requiring signals that need to be interpreted, deciphered, and acted upon.

Just imagine how you would feel if, while driving your car, the steering wheel suddenly felt loose, so that it became more difficult to control the car. Wouldn't you quickly become more alert, more concerned with maintaining a safe passage? What if we deliberately introduced this feeling? Wouldn't drivers become more cautious? This behavior is certainly possible in the design of some future car. More and more, automobiles are transitioning toward what is called “drive by wire,” where the controls are no longer mechanically connected to anything other than a computer. This is how modern airplanes are controlled, and in many vehicles, the throttle and brakes already work in this way, passing signals to the automobile's many microprocessors. Someday, steering will be “by wire,” with electric motors or hydraulic mechanisms providing feedback to the driver so that it will feel as if the driver is turning the wheels and feeling the road through the wheel's vibrations. When we reach this point, then it will be possible to mimic the feel of skidding, or heavy vibration, or even a loose, wobbly steering wheel. The neat thing about smart technology is that we could provide precise, accurate control, even while giving the driver the perception of loose, wobbly controllability.

The problem is that a wobbly steering wheel would make the driver think there was something the matter with the car. Not only would this send the wrong message, but it would never be
acceptable to the automobile manufacturers. When I mentioned this to an engineering group at one major automobile company, the response was nervous laughter. “Why would we want to produce a product that sometimes felt as if it were failing to work properly?” they asked. Good point. Instead of making the car appear to be dangerous, however, we could make it appear that the environment was dangerous.

Picture someone driving over an old dirt highway, with deep ruts that capture the car, moving it in unpredictable ways: in such a situation, we wouldn't blame the car; we would blame the ruts in the road. Or consider driving through thick, heavy mud, which makes the automobile behave sluggishly and unable to respond with agility. Or, if driving on ice so that the car continually skidded, we would slow down and take caution but, once again, put the blame on the road. Finally, consider driving on a clear, sunny day, on a modern highway with no other traffic in sight. The car can respond with agility and promptness: now we would believe the responses to be entirely due to the car itself.

All these environmental variables would have a desirable impact upon the driver's responses, but in a manner attributed to the environment, not the automobile. This would naturally induce just the correct behavior: the more dangerous something appears to be, the more care the person in charge will exert.

Why do we need this? Because the modern automobile has become too comfortable. Between the effective shock absorbers and ride-control systems, effective noise reduction, and minimization of road feel and vibration from the interior of the automobile, the driver is no longer in direct touch with the
environment. As a result, artificial enhancement is required, the better to let the driver know the environmental conditions.

Note that I am not in favor of actually making things more dangerous. The goal is that by providing appropriate feedback, the driver will drive more safely. Of course, we should continue to enhance true physical safety. We know that completely automatic systems have already been proven effective: for example, antiskid brakes and stability controls, smoke alarms, helmets for bicyclists and skateboarders and skiers, as well as shields and guards for machinery, are all important. Yet, these automatic systems have limited effectiveness. If drivers drove more safely in the first place, then the automatic systems would be a lot more effective when the unexpected did occur.

These ideas are controversial. Even I am not completely convinced they would work. Human nature being what it is, people are very apt to do just the opposite of my predictions, ignoring the apparent slipperiness of the road by thinking, “Oh, the road isn't really slippery. This is just the car trying to slow me down.” But what if the road really is slippery? Furthermore, would you buy a car or tool that deliberately frightened you? Bad marketing strategy. Bad idea.

Still, there is truth in the phenomenon. Today, we are too comfortable, too insulated from the dangers inherent in the world, inherent in the operation of complex, powerful machinery. If motorcycles and automobiles, machinery and drugs seemed as dangerous as they really are, perhaps people would modify their behavior appropriately. When everything is soundproofed, cushioned, and sanitized, we are no longer aware of the real hazards. That is why we need to bring back the truthful depiction of the danger.

Power-assisted devices, such as brakes and steering, are relatively primitive examples of a natural collaboration between person and machine. With modern electronics, much more collaboration is possible. Consider the “Cobot,” or “Collaborative Robot,” invented by Professors Ed Colgate and Michael Peshkin at their Laboratory for Intelligent Mechanical Systems at Northwestern University. Cobots are another excellent example of a natural interaction between a person and a machine, akin to the interaction between a horse and rider. When I asked Peshkin to describe Cobots, here is how he responded:

 

The Cobot provides an excellent example of human-machine symbiosis because, as far as the people who use it are concerned, they are simply lifting and moving objects as they normally would. The only difference is that these objects might be extremely heavy; yet, only small lifting and guiding forces are required. The system amplifies force: people only need to exert small, comfortable amounts of force, and the system supplies whatever else is required. The people feel as if they are in complete control and may even be unaware that they are being assisted by mechanical means. For example, one application of Cobot technology helps automobile assembly line workers manipulate automobile engines. Normally, heavy objects, such as automobile engines, are lifted by overhead hoists that must be controlled or by intelligent hoists that try to do the task by themselves automatically. With the Cobot, workers simply loop a chain and hook around the engine and lift up. The engine is far heavier than one person can lift, let alone with one hand, but the Cobot, sensing the lifting action, supplies the lifting force that is required. When workers want the engine to move, or to rotate, or to be lowered again, they simply lift, rotate, push, or press down; the Cobot senses the forces and amplifies them appropriately for the task. The result is a perfect collaboration. The workers do not think of themselves as using a machine: they just think of themselves as moving the engine.

Cobots can be a lot more sophisticated, too. For example, if it is important not to move the engine in some directions, or if it is important to carry the engine along a well-described path, the Cobot control system can define virtual walls and paths so that when the user tries to go against the wall or deviate from
the path, the device “pushes back,” resisting the attempt, but still in a nice, natural manner. In fact, the worker can use this artificial wall as an aid, pushing the engine all the way to the side until it hits the “wall,” then sliding the engine along the wall. Artificially induced limits of this sort feel amazingly natural. The machine doesn't seem to be forcing a behavior: it feels like a physical wall, and so it is natural either to avoid it or perhaps to use it as an aid in maintaining a straight path by deliberately contacting it and sliding along it. Here is how the originators of Cobots described this possibility:

 

Cobots are part of a family of power-assisted systems. One other example is that of a powered exoskeleton, a type of suit or mechanical skeleton put on over the body that, just as the
Cobot, senses the person's movements and amplifies them to whatever degree necessary. Exoskeletons are still more of a concept than reality, but proponents of these future things foresee their use in construction, firefighting, and other dangerous environments, enabling a person to lift heavy loads and jump long distances and heights. They could also be beneficial to medical treatments, allowing impaired patients to have normal strength, while also providing rehabilitation training by gradually increasing the amount of force the patient is required to supply, thereby guiding the rehabilitation process. Much like the use of the horse metaphor for automobile control, which can vary between loose rein and tight rein, medical rehabilitation exoskeletons could vary between having the patient in charge (tight rein) and having the robot in charge (loose rein).

Another example of natural interaction is the Segway Personal Transporter, a two-wheeled personal transportation system. The transporter provides a powerful example of how intelligent design can yield a vehicle that is a wonderful symbiosis of machine+person. The transporter provides behavioral control and the human, high-level reflective guidance. Stand on the transporter, and it automatically balances you and it, together. Lean forward, and it moves forward; lean back, and it stops. Similarly, to turn, just lean in the correct direction. It's easier to use than a bicycle, and the interaction feels natural. The Segway transporter isn't for everyone, however, just as a horse isn't for everyone. It requires some degree of skill and attentiveness.