Death By iPad | Peter Mehit

I think iPads are really cool. I like that they’re instant on, broadband connected and can deliver the world to you in a compact little package that is easy to use and carry. They are well made, reliable and look really cool. There is no question that they represent a huge change in how information and entertainment is accessed, opening up a deeper internet experience for millions of people. Like all technology, however, there is the other side, the unintended consequences.

The more ubiquitous the iPad is becoming, the more demands there are on our already short attention spans. I was attending a meeting about positioning your business for angel investors. I was a tad late, and entering from the back of the room, my attention was drawn not to the presentation at the front of the room, but to the sea of little illuminated rectangles in front of most of the participants. It stunned me so much that I stood and watched as the contents of the screens changed faster than the presentation. This was not lost on the presenter who looked defeated at the end of his time.

Then there’s the fumble factor. This occurs when the user of the iPad doesn’t quite have the interface down and scrambles and taps their way through multiple applications, photos, e-mails and other info debris when trying to show you something. Humorous if you have time, frustrating when you are trying to understand the point they’re trying to make. The best variant is the orientation game, where the user fights the iPad as it changes back and forth from landscape to portrait presentations because it isn’t being held steady enough.

But my latest experience almost had me bludgeoning somebody with their own device. At a mixer, a young engineer was chatting with our group about his start up software company. As he explained what he did, he slowly slipped his iPad out of its sleeve. Without warning, he was suddenly walking us through a PowerPoint presentation. Literally. Slide by slide, he settled into a drone that told me he’d delivered this presentation one time too many.

We all stood there until he was done, something like fifteen minutes. I felt I’d been ambushed. Nobody, including me, had the nerve to point out that nobody asked for a formal sales pitch. We just took it. At the end, we all had those stiff, rictus smiles that communicated we never wanted to speak with the presenter again.

I continued to mingle and later that same evening, at the same event, another person attempted the same ambush. This time, I nipped it in the bud, “Please explain it to me, don’t present it to me.”

The young entrepreneur looked shocked. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“That’s fine.” I smiled at him, “But ask if I want to watch a slide show.” The man put the iPad back in its sleeve and stood looking at me, thunderstruck. I think I broke him.

For a moment, I couldn’t figure out whether I was championing manners, or revealing myself as a 21^st century Luddite. In the end it doesn’t matter. I’m a fan of eye contact. I like people who can think on their feet and work without props. I like someone who uses their hands to gesture castles and cities and stories in the air instead of fighting their iPad for control of the picture.

Set me up for the presentation, tell me a story that makes me want to see it and, most importantly, get consent to take a block of my time to walk me through it. Then the fact that you can deliver a clear and concise slideshow might amaze me. It might make me a fan of you and your idea. But at the minimum, it won’t turn me off.

Respect people, especially their time, and they will respect you. It’s important. Without respect, there can be no trust. No real business gets done without trust.

Besides, I’m not sure how long I can hold down these murderous impulses. If you read the headline, “Man Killed at Mixer With iPad,” there’s an even money chance my picture will appear under it.