Microsoft has posted a splash screen spec for the Orcas version of Visual Studio, asking for our impressions.
And here I was determined to start taking a more positive tack in my tech blog. Dear me.
My impressions are as follows:
The triviality
They wrote a nine-page specification complete with “Microsoft Corporation Technical Documentation License Agreement (Standard)” and stamp of approval from Microsoft Law And Corporate Affairs and table of contents and overview and context and definitions and appeal-to-stereotype Elvis arguments …
… for a drop-shadow and rounded corners and no other changes?
And thought it would be a good idea to post it publicly?
The specious claims
“[the splash screen] is no less critical than any other part of the Visual Studio User Experience.”
They lost me right there on the front page. Let me rephrase this statement while retaining the precise meaning:
“There is no part of the Visual Studio User Experience that is more critical than the splash screen.”
Gee, I could have sworn there were a couple.
We don’t even interact with this thing. It’s not a User Experience, it’s a Viewer Experience. And that’s if we even bother to View it, instead of fetching a cup of coffee while Visual Studio loads, or starting it with /nosplash.
How could it possibly be as critical as any other part of the User Experience?
This is the kind of text that comes out when you are thinking “what would sound impressive here?” instead of “what’s the plain and useful truth here?”
“The Splash Screen typifies some of the worst aspects of the Visual Studio User Experience.”
No no no. The worst aspects of said User Experience are, unsurprisingly, things we Use. Such as:
It’s OK to exaggerate the importance of your work in order to motivate yourself. But don’t go overboard.
The singularly clueless marketing stereotype banter
When Elvis first heard about Visual Studio Orcas being released, he wasn’t convinced that it was worth upgrading to, especially since he felt as though he had just purchased a copy of Visual Studio 2005.
So, like any frugal developer, Elvis went and downloaded a trial copy of Orcas to test drive.
Elvis could see that Visual Studio Orcas was new and different from the moment he started the application. The changes in the Splash Screen suggested to him immediately that this release was, indeed, different.
Well, wasn’t that a nice story.
Really, this Mort-and-Elvis stuff has to go. It pains me to see dinky little stories of these contrived stereotypes masquerading as product marketing wisdom.
The inattention
Chapter 6, “Feature Decisions / Q&A” is not just blank; it consists entirely of the placeholder text from the document template: “Include a quick description [...] describe decisions and rationale here [...] We will do so and so”
This is the document equivalent of:
/// <summary>
/// Insert summary description here
/// </summary>
public class Class1
{
/// <summary>
/// Construct a new Class1 instance.
/// </summary>
public Class1()
{
// Add initialization code here
}
}
Do we post this kind of code for public review? For private review? Do we even check it in?
The implied background
One can’t help wondering whether this spec gives a glimpse of some contorted in-house dynamic, where people have to participate in a ritual Product Marketing dance by writing a Mort or Elvis “scenario” for every feature spec, and inflating the importance of their work with baseless hyperbole.
It sounds like the FeatureSpec.dot document template contained the placeholder text “Insert scenario involving Mort and Elvis here,” as a hoop for each feature spec writer to jump through.
It may not really be that way, but we’re talking impressions here.
Summary
Why did nobody’s nonsense detector go wild and prevent this embarrassment from publication? The splash screen improvements themselves are nice and understated, and should have been put in place without a word.
