I used to do a podcast. I mean, I used to do a podcast frequently. Now I do it when inspiration hits me on the head, or when I find a good title.
Shelly Brisbin's life consists of several long tails. She writes about them here.
I used to do a podcast. I mean, I used to do a podcast frequently. Now I do it when inspiration hits me on the head, or when I find a good title.
A committee of the Maccessibility Roundtable chatted recently with Jason Snell, former Macworld poobah, and current proprietor of Six Colors. We talked about Apple accessibility, as seen from the mainstream tech world. I should note, too, that I’ve known Jason since we both worked at MacUser, back in the day. He and I covered the Internet, initially in our spare time. We also shared custody of an email server, from which we ran music mailing lists. No one from the former secretary of state’s office asked us for advice.
The nice folks at KPFK Radio’s Access Unlimited invited me back to talk about the iOS 8 version of iOS Access for All. Also, there were cocktails.
In which the Knights of the Roundtable review Apple’s Spring Forward announcement.
A bit less than a month ago, I released an updated version of my book, iOS Access for All. The new edition covers iOS 8. I would just love for you to buy, read, and enjoy a copy of the book. I would also love to be able to tell you why my own blog, the one that features an image of the book’s cover there on the sidebar, is the last to get the word. Among other things I never got around to telling any loyal readers who have managed to keep me in their RSS feeds, is that I am now a panelist on a lovely bi-weekly podcast called Maccessibility Roundtable. Also, I released an episode of my own podcast, and have done a bushel of interviews about the book. More are scheduled for this very week.
Does my inattention to what is supposed to be my home on the Internet indicate that I am now among those who believe that Twitter (and possibly Facebook) is all anyone could possibly need in the way of a personal platform? I mean, everyone agrees that RSS is dead, right?
Yes, my own ill-use of this space is connected with the ascendance of other media; ones that have proven results for me, both in terms of feedback on what I write, and jingle in my digital pocket. As much as I love this blog, and making the occasional essays I have penned here, the amount of traffic and comments it gets have been underwhelming.
I refuse to pronounce the blog dead, not so much because I love writing this one, but because I love reading those other people write. But, then again, I just wrote a book, so what do I know? Nobody does that anymore!
I have a very special first-world problem. It’s not the kind that revolvers around money, or stuff, or even the temperature of my latte. It’s a social media first-world problem.
I joined Twitter early. Like, in February or March 2007. I was actually invited in late 2006, but there’s no need to gild this particular lille. Because I could, I claimed the Twitter name @shelly for my own. Had I not joined Twitter for professional reasons, I would have been @shellyspodcast, which is how I rolled in those days, producing my own weekly eponymous podcast for the enjoyment of hundreds of people. But in 2007, I was also managing editor at the late lamented Blogger & Podcaster, and was writing my first feature article for the magazine. The B&P publisher was eager for me to put Robert Scoble, noted tech gadfly and early adopter of trendy things, on the cover of our first issue. Robert was evangelizing Twitter, just then. Fortunately for me, this made him eminently stalkable, once I had also signed up and followed him. When Robert came to Austin for SXSW in March, I tracked him to a meetup at Salt Lick, a famous BBQ emporium. I never actually got to speak to him there, due to an abundance of panting fanboys who surrounded him at all times. (I did talk to him later, having observed that people who pronounce how open and transparent they are usually have their own rules about what that means, and the obeisances expected.) In the end, Twitter did provide a nice lede for my Scoble story.
The trouble with having a Twitter name that is also your first name is that folks use it in @mentions that are addressed to people who are not you. Some don’t realize that typing a space after @shelly will direct the mention to my timeline (as in @shelly kramer). Others have a friend named Shelly, and don’t bother to look up that person’s actual Twitter name. Finally, Internet sharing tools will sometimes introduce a space where there shouldn’t be one. That’s how I get lots of mentions intended for a woman who shares dessert recipes on Pinterest. She’s very popular, by the way.
The long and the short of all this is that my morning rituals now include blocking Twitter mentions that belong to others. Tweetdeck on the desktop excels at this this. Sometimes, there are a couple of notes (often in a language I don’t speak) addressed to random Shellys around the world. There’s also a Shelly who has adopted the persona of a white teenaged girl who is a virulent racist. Perhaps that’s actually who she is, but I sincerely hope it’s a fake identity. Apparently, there are a couple of reality TV “stars” named Shelly, too. People don’t like them very much. Occasionally, one of the other Shellys, usually the one who is both a dude and a “social media expert”, gets retweeted heavily. On those mornings, I hit Block quite a bit. God help me if he’s attending a social media schmoozefest; aka a conference.
So whadaya think? Should I tweet this post out to all the Shellys of the Internet? Will they @mention and retweet me back, or is @shelly destined for a thousand block lists?
Last week’s kerfuffle about the National Federation of the Blind’s (NFB) resolution asking Apple to make a more vigorous effort to ensure the accessibility of third-party apps accomplished several things: it got lots of mainstream attention for the NFB, and united the Apple-centric press in righteous indignation over perceived defamation of the Cupertino company. What it didn’t do, in mainstream journalism, at least, was facilitate a discussion of what the NFB resolution seeks, or whether it’s reasonable. The controversy has also not demonstrated that the Apple defenders in the press actually know much about the relationship between accessibility support in the OS, and the need for implementation by app developers.
So here’s what happened. NFB members passed a resolution (Word doc) asking Apple to strongly encourage, if not require, that app developers make their software accessible, as a condition of availability in the App Store. And by that, the resolution means that developers should take advantage of accessibility hooks provided in Apple operating systems, so that interfaces and content can be read by the VoiceOver screen reader, or viewed by people with low vision. The “whereas” portion of the NFB resolution actually does a thorough job of describing how apps are rendered inaccessible, how blind consumers often inadvertently purchase inaccessible apps, and how updates sometimes break pre-existing access support. The resolution suggests that since Apple already exercises a lot of control over what gets into the App Store, adding an accessibility requirement is consistent with the company’s highly-regulated approach to app approval.
Next came the Reuters article, which stated (incorrectly) that NFB had sued Apple over accessibility in the past. The author then took a famous Tim Cook quote about Apple’s reasons for championing accessibility out of context. Finally, several leading Apple-focused writers rose as one to defend Cook’s good name, eviscerating the Reuters piece, and praising Apple’s commitment to accessibility in the distant past, in the now, and for all time to come. (And Google sucks, by the way.) This Fortune article does a nice job of fleshing out the story, and linking to more Mac press responses.
Here’s the thing: lots of folks in the Apple-centric press have a regrettable tendency to cheerlead. Call it advocacy journalism, homerism, or reality distortion field, but it’s a fact of the way many who cover Apple’s every move ply their trade. Whether Fortune’s assertion that they responded at the behest of Apple PR is true or not, the discussion certainly wasn’t very substantive; beginning with the erros in the Reuters article, and winding up with unreserved praise for Apple’s leadership in accessibility, and their altruistic commitment to it.
A few things were missing:
Even in the accessibility community, the Tim Cook quote about why Apple makes its products accessible is held up as a reason to venerate the company. But as proven by the manner of the MacPress response to this little dustup, it’s much easier to cut and paste pretty words from the CEO than it is to take on the challenges and successes of accessibility on a substantive level. Whether you’re a fan of the NFB resolution, or think it goes too far, its real value is as a conversation-churner. Apple understands that conversation is happening, probably far better than most of its journalistic cheerleaders do.
I’m thrilled to announce the availability of my book, iOS Access for All: Your Comprehensive Guide to Accessibility on iPad, iPhone, and iPod Touch. The book guides readers through all accessibility features available on Apple’s mobile devices. Whether you’re just getting started with iOS, or want to learn more about apps and accessibility tools you already use, iOS Access for All has all the bases covered. With information of interest to users who are blind, low-vision, hearing-impaired, or have cognitive or motor disabilities, the book is the most extensive iOS accessibility resource available.
I’ve spent more than 25 years writing about technology, with a particular focus on Apple products. I’m also a visually-impaired iPhone user. My full bio is here.
Here’s the Table of Contents for iOS Access for All.
You can buy the book for US$20 at the iOS Access for All Web site.
You can buy the ePub (Apple iBooks-friendly) version for $20 at the book’s Web site.
I’m just back from the CSUN International Technology and Persons with Disabilities Conference in San Diego. That moniker is a mouthful. Just think of it as the largest annual gathering of accessibility geeks and experts, and you’ll have some idea what it’s all about. Spent three days promoting the book, larding more about accessible tech, meeting folks I’ve been following on Twitter, and handling a products that either incorporate support for accessibility, or are designed specifically to provide an accessible alternative.
I also spent some time with fellow podcasters Robert Carter and Allison Hartley of The Tech Doctor Podcast, and Allison and Steve Sherridan of NosillaCast. A segment we recorded about iOS 7.1 changes related to accessibility appears on this week’s NosillaCast. It’s near the end, but hopefully worth the wait, especially since Allison also includes interviews with a few vendors from the CSUN exhibit hall.
Finally, I returned to Austin via Amtrak, starting on Friday night in San Diego, and arriving home on Sunday morning. It was a great trip, and seems to have completely mellowed me out, after a hectic few days at CSUN. I recommend long-haul train travel, especially if you’re not a fan of what air travel has become.
Here’s a picture I snapped from the back of the train, somewhere in Arizona. My sleeper room happened to be in the last car, so I just walked a little way down the hall to get it.
Forgive the sensational headline. I did it on purpose. There! I feel better. Confession is good for the soul.
It seems someone has filed a class action lawsuit against Apple on behalf of visually impaired customers who are unable to use the company’s touch-screen point of sale (POS) devices to enter a debit card PIN number. What I’ve seen of the commentary on this subject today leads me to offer some clarifications for those of you who are neither visually impaired, or familiar with the accessibility options in Apple’s iOS devices. I check both of these boxes.
If you make a card-based purchase (debit or credit) at an Apple Store, the transaction will be processed on a modified iPod Touch, carried by an employee. You’ll be asked to enter your PIN on a touch screen, or to use your finger to sign your name, if you’re using a credit card. Now, all iOS devices, including the iPod Touch, have a number of nifty accessibility features, namely the VoiceOver screen reader, and magnification and invert colors options used by visually impaired (sometimes called partially sighted by those who are not) people. You can turn these features on for any iOS device you, yourself control, even the demo iPads in the Apple Store. Using Accessibility Shortcut, you can do it with a quick triple-click of the Home button. So far as I know, it isn’t possible for Apple employees to enable these options on the locked-down devices they carry.
A couple of pieces I read today compare Apple’s POS systems with those in grocery stores or other retail environments, suggesting that “all” such devices offer tactile buttons, because the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) requires them, and that these buttons solve the problem for blind people who need to enter a PIN. In fact, I’ve used some POS systems that rely on non-tactile buttons, and many more that require the user to navigate a series of menus to choose the kind of transaction, request cash back, and approve the total purchase amount. Positioning, size, and color of these menus varies widely. For me, they’re just difficult to read, and I have been known to judge chain stores based on their card reader technology. For a blind person, these systems create real barriers, tactile buttons notwithstanding. So let’s be clear that the grocery store is not a happy, accessible fairyland, while the Apple Store is a big, blind-hating meanie. The difference is that though I may need assistance confirming the amount of my food purchases, I am often able to enter my PIN number unassisted, even though the menus suck.
Now, if you’re looking for topics to add to your “all outrage, all the time” talk show, I suppose this suit against Apple would be a fun one. I can hear the lawsuit haters revving up their dialing fingers now, ready to hold forth about how this guy probably wants to be paid for his inconvenience by separating Tim Cook from some of those Apple millions. But my intuition, and that’s all I’m relying on here, tells me that’s not what’s going on. Apple has the ability to solve the problem stated in the lawsuit by 1) making it possible for the employee to enable accessibility features like VoiceOver on the POS terminal, and 2) providing earbuds to a customer who doesn’t want the PIN to be broadcast throughout the store. Since I use Invert Colors on my iOS devices, I would like Apple to expose that option, too. Boom! Apple POS systems turn from cold, unfriendly, pieces of…glass back into highly accessible iPod Touches, making them far easier to for customers (and potential disabled employees) to use than my grocery store card reader.
Another reason to keep an eye on this suit, and whether Apple finds a way to diffuse it with adjustments to software, rather than with a tactile button attachment, or some other significant change to its POS hardware, is that iOS devices are popular in all kinds of retail environments. My favorite little Thai place has one, and I find the screen, as rendered by the POS software they use, impossible to read. And it infuriates me to know that the accessibility tools I use every day are right there, behind the POS screen and not available when I pay for my chicken fried rice.
The best outcome of this suit would be that Apple Store customers acquire the ability to complete transactions in an accessible way, and that the need to expose VoiceOver and other features in retail applications would translate into better accessible systems in any environment where customers buy things with mobile devices. That’s positive for anyone concerned about ADA compliance, and provides a competitive advantage for Apple over devices with less built-in accessibility.