#16: Zippo lighters and AirPods cases
In search of that satisfying click
👋 Hi friends, it's Hesam with issue #16 of 4 bits. 4 bits is a biweekly newsletter where I share thoughts and musings on how to build memorable experiences.
One quick update:
Two issues ago, I mentioned my newfound fascination with zines. Little paper booklets that carry strong messages, zines are a fun form factor that you can make on your own without anyone’s permission.
This past week, we released our first zine at the Liu Idea Lab, titled Idea Rebels.
Co-created with undergraduate students in the social sciences, Idea Rebels attempts to shatter the belief that entrepreneurship/innovation/whatever buzzword people use is only for a subset of people that look or act a certain way.
I remember sneering at the entrepreneurship students when I was a student. They looked and acted different. They were extroverted and confident. They used unfamiliar language and wore fancy jackets with patches on them. I could never see myself as one of them, and I imagine that I’m not alone.
Much of my career in higher ed has rested on the conviction that there are others out there who might not fit that image but have what it takes to go from idea to meaningful impact. I’m here to serve that crowd.
I couldn’t be prouder of this creation by my colleague, Mercy, and the social sciences students. And I love that it’s a zine, of course.
Zippo lighters and AirPods cases
When I was a kid, I used to have a Zippo lighter. But I didn’t use it for fire. Instead, I loved flicking it open and closed.
I can still feel the cold metal rubbing up against my thumb right before the top would swing open. Then, with a little bit of friction on the flint wheel, I could push down, watch a fire spark, and put the fire out by snapping the lid shut. I was rewarded with a nice *click* noise once the lid touched the base. The entire sequence felt like magic.
I'd walk around the neighborhood, acting like I owned the world, Zippo in hand, flicking away. It didn't hurt that I could also light paper on fire and do other dangerous things if I wanted.
I was more interested in what made the lighter special, though. It was different from matches or other lighters. With a little more effort, you were rewarded with a clicking noise that was satisfying. That satisfying click was also addictive.
What is it about that click? Perhaps it was the dopamine hit of immediate, audible feedback letting me know that I completed a task. Maybe it was a fidget toy before fidget toys existed. But as I reflect on it more, I wonder if I’m attracted to devices that subtly invite you to play with them beyond their intended use.
Two years ago, I heard about Playdate, a new handheld gaming device being developed by teenage engineering and Panic. Teenage engineering is a Swedish product design company that makes irresistibly cool looking synthesizers and audio equipment.
Panic is a software company. I was a regular user of their file transfer software, Transmit, back in my days as a web developer. I loved their attention to detail in their software so I assumed that would translate to any physical product they’d create.
So what happens when Panic and teenage engineering set out to collaborate on a new gaming device? They make the Playdate.
When I first heard about the Playdate, I couldn’t stop staring at that crank on the side. It looked so cool! I wanted one.
Do I play games? No.
Did I want the Playdate so I could hold it my hand and try the crank? Absolutely.
I preordered the Playdate as soon as it was announced and waited for it to arrive. Supply chain issues due to the pandemic coupled with a software company’s first attempt at producing hardware meant unexpected delays. After two years, I still didn’t have my Playdate.
Eventually, I talked myself out of the irrational purchase and cancelled my order, only weeks before it was about to ship. I still wish I could try that crank, though.
My quest for that subtle playfulness of a physical device was complete when I finally caved and bought the AirPods Pro. As someone who obsesses over audio quality, I resisted AirPods because bluetooth audio is compressed and the audio quality would never match wired headphones.
But once I had my AirPods, I not only found the audio quality to be good enough, but I discovered another feature.
The satisfying click of closing the AirPods case. Like a Zippo lighter and the Playdate, it was begging to be tinkered with.
When I open the case and take my AirPods out, I find myself intensely focused on the the short delay between pushing the top of the case back down and hearing the click that indicates the case is closed. That click makes me happy.
It also makes me wonder what designers are thinking when they create these affordances. The case could have closed normally, but someone thought it was a good idea to make it click?
Why is that?
And why do we, as humans, find it satisfying?
I’m not quite sure, but I’ll continue to channel my inner 12 year old with my AirPods case. It’s my modern day Zippo, and I’ll keep flicking it open and closed because it’s fun and keeps me coming back for more. 🔥
Maybe it’s the ASMR of it all?