The history of civilization, in some ways, is a history of maps: How have we come to understand the world around us? One of the most famous maps works because it really isn't a map at all.
Civilizācijas vēsture savā ziņā ir karšu vēsture: kā gan mums ir izdevies saprast apkārt esošo pasauli? Viena no slavenākajām kartēm darbojas, jo tā patiesībā nemaz nav karte.
[Small thing. Big idea.]
[Maza lieta. Liela ideja.]
[Michael Bierut on the London Tube Map]
[Maikls Bjēruts par Londonas metro karti]
The London Underground came together in 1908, when eight different independent railways merged to create a single system. They needed a map to represent that system so people would know where to ride. The map they made is complicated. You can see rivers, bodies of water, trees and parks -- the stations were all crammed together at the center of the map, and out in the periphery, there were some that couldn't even fit on the map. So the map was geographically accurate, but maybe not so useful.
Londonas metro tapa 1908. gadā, apvienojot astoņus atsevišķus sliežu ceļus, lai radītu vienotu sistēmu. Šīs sistēmas atainošanai vajadzēja karti, lai cilvēki zinātu, kurp braukt. Izveidotā karte ir sarežģīta. Tajā redzamas upes, ūdenstilpnes, koki un parki – kartes centrā stacijas ir cieši saspiestas, un tālāk, perifērijā, dažas pat neievietojas uz kartes. Tā ka karte bija ģeogrāfiski precīza, taču ne īpaši noderīga.
Enter Harry Beck. Harry Beck was a 29-year-old engineering draftsman who had been working on and off for the London Underground. And he had a key insight, and that was that people riding underground in trains don't really care what's happening aboveground. They just want to get from station to station -- "Where do I get on? Where do I get off?" It's the system that's important, not the geography. He's taken this complicated mess of spaghetti, and he's simplified it. The lines only go in three directions: they're horizontal, they're vertical, or they're 45 degrees. Likewise, he spaced the stations equally, he's made every station color correspond to the color of the line, and he's fixed it all so that it's not really a map anymore. What it is is a diagram, just like circuitry, except the circuitry here isn't wires conducting electrons, it's tubes containing trains conducting people from place to place.
Ierodas Herijs Beks. Herijs Beks bija 29 gadus vecs inženieris-projektētājs, kurš ar pārtraukumiem strādāja Londonas metro. Un viņš saprata ko svarīgu, proti, ka tiem, kas brauc ar metro, patiesībā nerūp, kas notiek virszemē. Viņi vienkārši grib nokļūt no stacijas līdz stacijai. Kur jāiekāpj? Kur jāizkāpj? Svarīga ir sistēma, nevis ģeogrāfija. Viņš šo samudžināto spageti vienkāršoja. Līnijas iet tikai trijos virzienos: tās ir horizontālas, vertikālas vai 45 grādu leņķī. Tāpat viņš izvietoja stacijas vienādos attālumos, katru staciju iekrāsoja atbilstošās līnijas krāsā un sakārtoja to visu tā, ka tā vairs nebija īsti karte. Tā bija kļuvusi par diagrammu, gluži kā elektroshēma, tomēr šī shēma nav elektronus vadošas stieples, bet gan tuneļi vilcieniem, kas pārvadā cilvēkus no vienas vietas uz otru.
In 1933, the Underground decided, at last, to give Harry Beck's map a try. The Underground did a test run of a thousand of these maps, pocket-size. They were gone in one hour. They realized they were onto something, they printed 750,000 more, and this is the map that you see today.
1933. gadā metro beidzot nolēma Herija Beka ideju izmēģināt. Metro nodrukāja pilottirāžu – tūkstoti kabatas izmēra karšu. Tās izķēra stundas laikā. Viņi saprata, ka tur kaut kas ir, nodrukāja vēl 750 000, un tā ir šodien pazīstamā karte.
Beck's design really became the template for the way we think of metro maps today. Tokyo, Paris, Berlin, São Paulo, Sydney, Washington, D.C. -- all of them convert complex geography into crisp geometry. All of them use different colors to distinguish between lines, all of them use simple symbols to distinguish between types of stations. They all are part of a universal language, seemingly.
Beka dizains kļuva par veidni tam, kā mūsdienās iedomājamies metro kartes. Tokija, Parīze, Berlīne, Sanpaulu, Sidneja, Vašingtona – tās visas sarežģītu ģeogrāfiju pārvērš precīzā ģeometrijā. Tās visas līniju nošķiršanai izmanto dažādas krāsas, tās visas staciju veidu nošķiršanai izmanto vienkāršus simbolus. Tās visas šķietami ir universālas valodas daļa.
I bet Harry Beck wouldn't have known what a user interface was, but that's really what he designed and he really took that challenge and broke it down to three principles that I think can be applied in nearly any design problem. First one is focus. Focus on who you're doing this for. The second principle is simplicity. What's the shortest way to deliver that need? Finally, the last thing is: Thinking in a cross-disciplinary way. Who would've thought that an electrical engineer would be the person to hold the key to unlock what was then one of the most complicated systems in the world -- all started by one guy with a pencil and an idea.
Varu derēt, ka Herijs Beks nezināja, kas ir lietotāja saskarne, bet tieši to viņš arī radīja. Viņš pieņēma šo izaicinājumu un sadalīja to trīs principos, ko, manuprāt, var izmantot gandrīz jebkurai dizaina problēmai. Pirmais – koncentrēšanās. Koncentrēties uz lietotāju. Otrais princips – vienkāršība. Kāds ir īsākais ceļš šīs vajadzības apmierināšanai? Visbeidzot pēdējais princips – domāt starpdisciplināri. Kam gan būtu ienācis prātā, ka elektroinženieris atrisinās vienu no tolaik sarežģītākajām sistēmām pasaulē? Tas viss sākās ar kādu, kam bija zīmulis un ideja.