A few months ago, CACM came close to returning to its old self 
and ran some worthwhile papers. These were papers on human 
factors in computer system design. The section containing these 
papers had a preface, which described the experiences of a 
computer user faced by problems typical of poor human factors 
design. This month's CACM contained a letter from a fellow who 
thought that the preface displayed the attitude of a lazy user 
who didn't care to think for him/herself (don't take my word for 
it; find a copy of the issue and read it--better still, chase 
down the issue with the papers on human factors). This provoked 
me to respond; the response follows for your possible amusement 
and consideration. (For those of you who haven't had the 
pleasure, the incidents are taken from real live Unix 
documentation and interactions with some of its devotees. The 
continued adventures of the user of cars designed and documented 
like TSO, MVS, VMS, or CP/M should be worth reading also; I 
commend the effort to others.)

Dear Sir:

Concerning Peter Buhr's letter parodying the preface to the 
special section on Human Factors in Computing Systems:  while no 
one could  dispute the claim that solving problems, whether with 
or without a computer,  requires thought on the part of the 
solver, one ought to distinguish between difficulties essential 
to the problem and difficulties caused by bad design or 
inadequate documentation of wha is supposedly an aid to 
problem-solving. 

To continue Buhr's analogy, let's suppose that our automotive 
user suffers a true disaster: he gets what he asks for.  We join 
him as he enters his car... 

When I entered the car, I was surprised to see only one light on 
the dashboard.   When I looked in the owner's manual, I found 
that whenever anything went wrong, the light came on,  displaying 
a question mark.  "The  experienced  driver," the manual said, 
"will usually know what's wrong."

I continued reading the manual. In the section on the 
transmission, there was a list of known problems.  The list 
contained a single item: "behaves strangely on nights with full 
moons."  (Actually,Iwas rather proud of having puzzled out that
I was reading about the transmission, because it was always 
referred to as "xn" in the manual.)

Further  on, I read "This brash sequence of actions attempts to 
get the car onto the left-hand lane of a one-way street," 
followed by a mixture of Labanotation and one-letter flags. 

Later  that week, I tried a left turn. I found out that one does 
different things to turn left in each gear.   Unfortunately, the 
index only had an entry for left turns in second gear.  The 
shade-tree mechanic down the street saved my life by telling me 
that that page actually had a description of how to turn left in 
all gears; they just hadn't bothered to update the index. 

Before changing the oil, I read "...an addled dipstick should be 
treated  gently.  Experience and informed courage count for 
much."

Eventually, I got to a point at which I couldn't figure out from 
the manual what to do.  The shade-tree mechanic down the street 
said, "Shoot, you don't need the manual.  You can always take 
your car apart to find out what you want to know."
Unfortunately, the dealer could only give me the low price I got 
because I bought the car with the insides sealed up. 

A few  days later I found out that an error in opening the glove 
compartment disintegrates its contents. 

I now own a bicycle. 

(Credit is due for the first paragraph of this parody extension 
to an unknown person who entered the essentials of it into the 
fortune data base at Berkeley.)

Yours truly,
James Jones