Through the vehicle of the very concept, I mull over Mark Weiser’s idea of “ubiquitous computing” in Chapter 2 of Artful Design.

To do that, let’s take a step back.

With a strange rectangular device of metal-material concoction, I am leaving traces for some future, external, interpersonal interpretation. And here you are, reading digitally engraved manifestations of my past thoughts, right now. All of history has merged us to this singular point: the computer is a particular vessel of our lived reality. A noiseless, furtive undercurrent of human activity and experience. Not only enabling, but defining what our interactions in the world look like.

As I chew on this a bit more, I’m geographically only a couple kilometers away from the person who grandiosely proclaimed such an age of ubiquitous computing. Weiser was in the Palo Alto Research Center. For a moment, this discovery defamiliarizes the cutesy little university town I occasionally bike to for… food. Here in 1991, Weiser announced that “the most profound technologies are those that disappear. They weave themselves into the fabric of everyday life until they are indistinguishable from it.” Hearing this, I am, possibly to your surprise, not filled with optimism despite his winning smile. This induces fear. Discomfort because this is beyond true. A fleeting recognition of the haunting, inextricable perseverance of one technology.

Step back again.

As you daze away from the significance of my words, we return to the awareness of this very computer. At many points in our day, we simply have no need to acknowledge that we are using a computer to communicate with a friend or instructor. We simply believe that we are communicating with a friend or instructor. Like we swing our limbs through air, the computer becomes the unnoticed medium of our subconscious actions. Weiser coins this “calm technology.” With a foresight advantage of 35 years into the future, I would say the computer is a lot less subservient and a lot more sinister than his terms imply. His visions omit a deliberation on what technology does to us; shapes us; and for whom.

The very invisibility that is applauded is what I am most wary of. The pervasiveness has fundamentally shaped how humans work with each other and think of ourselves, others, and the world. These changes are not calm.

However, for specific technology like the Ocarina, in a double contrast to the ideals of “ubiquitous computing”, its charm, function, and delight are defined by the nature of the mobile medium. The technology is far from invisible—its form and the social capabilities of it are interwoven with its ability to bring wonder. And so, it creates pockets of “peace on earth. Calming art. It brings the entire world together without politics or war.”

This is the type of calm I want us to be aspiring for. Not surreptitious, not exploitative.

This is the type of artful design that should be ubiquitous.