Author: James Martin

  • Fast Mail and Loose Privacy

    Marco Arment recommends moving to FastMail to ease our email privacy woes:

    I continue to recommend buying your own domain and pointing it at either your own IMAP server or a dedicated, paid, standard IMAP host. (I’ve used Fastmail for 7 years and have no complaints.)

    Eighteen months ago I moved all my email hosting from Google Apps to FastMail. It was becoming clear that Google sometimes kills free services that people rely on. It seemed safer to pay a company that focuses on hosting Email, a company that isn’t distracted by building self-driving refrigerators or deep-sea Internet balloons.

    I hate maintaining infrastructure, which ruled out running my own mail server. At the time, the only paid hosts with kudos seemed to be Rackspace and FastMail. Marco Arment recommended FastMail. Nobody recommended Rackspace. I chose FastMail.

    Switching from Gmail to FastMail was simple, just a few DNS records to change. ((The only complication was having two domains in one FastMail account, which meant using “personality aliases”. Receiving email from several domains into a single FastMail account is easy but sending from a different personality requires some slightly obscure setup.))

    Since switching there’s been no noticeable down-time. Email seems to be delivered promptly and spam filtering seems as good as Gmail.

    Is switching from a free email host worth the effort? Does switching for privacy reasons make sense?

    There are two big problems with Email privacy, one is identity; how do you know that only the intended people are reading your message? How do you know that the sender of an Email is who they claim to be?

    The second problem is that almost all Email is sent over the open Internet in plain-text, which can be read by anybody with access to a server on the path from sender to recipient. Do you trust all of them?

    Unless we start building personal trust networks (exchanging and verifying public/private keys) and encrypting our email, then we should probably give up on email privacy. When communicating in plain text over the public Internet we should assume that our messages are being read by third parties.

    It doesn’t matter if we self host, pay a dedicated Email host with a simple privacy policy or use a giant advertising-supported technology company’s Email service for free. Email privacy without encryption and trusted, verified identity is an illusion.

    Google and Microsoft are big companies with shareholder mouths to feed, and they make money by doing amazing things with data and selling those data to advertisers. I don’t begrudge these business models, but they complicate our provider-consumer relationship because now we’re sandwiched between the advertisers and the email host. Suddenly it’s a love triangle.

    We know that advertisers pay handsomely to put their products in front of us. The free-to-use, ad-supported email host knows that the content of Emails allow them to show more relevant ads. That’s a more valuable service to both consumers and advertisers.

    But complicated relationships become tiring. What used to be a simple exchange of personal data for services begins to feel creepy.

    My relationship with Google reminds me of the sequence in the film Groundhog Day where Phil (Bill Murray) spends many Groundhog days learning everything he possibly can about Rita (Andy MacDowell) in an attempt to get her into bed. By the end of the sequence Phil is trying so hard to impress Rita by using what he’s learnt about her that he comes off as a phony. Instead of making him more effective at selling himself to Rita, Phil’s targeted advertising just makes their interactions feel forced and he seems increasingly desperate and creepy.

    FastMail’s business model and privacy policy is simpler. My relationship with them is simpler. FastMail provide email hosting. I pay them money. They only read my email in order to prevent spam and provide a good service, so they say.

    To force the Groundhog Day metaphor, my relationship with FastMail feels more like Phil and Rita at the end of the movie, when Phil gives up his incessant data collection and starts using all his time to make other people’s day as great as possible. Rita falls for him because he’s turned into this genuine, cool (freakishly talented) guy.

    Can I trust FastMail with my privacy? It’s an Australian legal entity, which is harder for U.S. and U.K. intelligence services to bully. FastMail’s privacy policy says it will turn over my data to law enforcement if ordered by a federal warrant issued by an Australian judge, which is comforting, but in 2013 Telstra proved that at least one Australian company is willing to assist foreign intelligence services without a warrant.

    When I emailed FastMail to ask about its history with warrants and whether it discloses requests to customers, director Richard Lovejoy replied:

    We receive a very small volume of warrants, and currently I deal with them all personally. They are virtually all connected to ongoing criminal investigations, and often we are prohibited from notifying the user. In the cases that we are allowed to, I would normally send an email to the user concerned.

    I can only take FastMail at its word. I’m still sending Email in plain-text and hoping that nothing I write incriminates me or lands me on some government blacklist. The main difference between FastMail and free email services is that FastMail’s entire financial success rests on people trusting it enough to continue paying for email hosting. No company that sends and receives plain-text messages on your behalf can guarantee your privacy but you have a choice. You can date the sincere nice-guy or the creepy, polyamorous show-off.

  • Leica X2

    When Ben reviewed the Olympus OMD-EM5 he made a compelling case for buying previous generation cameras:

    A few months ago (maybe?) I told Shawn [Blanc]: “I am beginning to think the best/smartest/cheapest way to buy a new camera is to wait until it’s a year old.”

    As a slave to the full-price annual iPhone upgrade, the fact that one, two and three year old cameras are still perfectly usable and, in some cases, still the newest models offered by a manufacturer, makes me smile.

    I read some of the reviews of the OMD, thinking that a Micro 4/3 camera system and a couple of great lenses might be a perfect way for this amateur to step up into the ‘prosumer’ market. When we travel my Better Half wields a Canon 7D and a bunch of expensive ‘glass’, as she calls it. When I say, ‘she wields’, what I really mean is, ‘I carry the bag with all the lenses and accessories, while she takes the pictures’. Being relegated to the pack mule is no fun, so I decided it was time to get a camera of my own to use when we travel. She can carry her own glass.

    The last camera I bought was a Canon Digital IXUS75 (A.K.A PowerShot ELPH SD750). It packed a ridiculous 7.1 mega pixels and featured witchcraft-like ‘Face Detection’. I used it extensively on a trip I took to Australia in 2007. The pictures from that trip are predictably mediocre, exactly reflecting my ability as a photographer and the ‘consumer’ nature of the camera. Later that same year I bought the first iPhone.

    I haven’t even switched on the Canon since 2007 but I’ve taken thousands of photos with every model of iPhone released since.

    One of my big fears about the Micro 4/3 system was the interchangeable lenses. Having the option of changing the lens on a camera means that one thinks about changing the lens. Readers of this site can empathize: I imagined myself researching lenses, reading reviews of lenses, going to my local store and test driving lenses, and then inevitably buying lenses and attempting to use them.

    What if I just…took photos, instead of thinking about lenses.

    During my reading I stumbled on Steve Huff’s review of the Leica X2, in which he references its predecessor the Leica X1. Both cameras have 35mm-equivalent fixed lenses, very few ‘creature comforts’ (no video etc.) and apparently take wonderful photos.

    The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of trying a Leica. One of my architectural heroes, Harry Seidler, carried a Leica 35mm film camera around with him at all times and was told by his photographer brother to, “only use Leica cameras and Kodachrome film, which is archival”. Seidler adhered to this advice and published the best architectural photographs he took over a 50 year span in an amazing book called, “The Grand Tour”, which is well worth a look if you love architecture, or photography.

    Leica enjoys something of a reputation for being either costly or expensive (and sometimes overpriced), depending on the opinion. If anybody reviewed the X2 (or any Leica) and claimed it to be excellent value, I couldn’t find it.

    Gavin Stoker, in his Leica X2 Review for Photographyblog.com:

    [The] gripe with Leicas largely appears to come down to the price tag, which sees them earmarked either as playthings of the rich or for successful pros only.

    Joshua Waller’s first impressions for ephotozine.com:

    From what we’ve seen so far, the X2 offers excellent image quality with low noise up to ISO3200, but without video and an optional electronic viewfinder it may only appeal to Leica fans, or those with a large wallet.

    Mike Lowe slams the X2 for its price in his review for pocket-lint.com:

    The Leica X2 is a bit like the Ferrari of the camera world. It looks gorgeous, has some enviable features, but it’s also extortionately expensive. […] This Leica is part statement piece, part camera. It’s lovable, but most will head straight for a “normal” compact and pocket the change.

    Price, among other things, is a sticking point in T3.com’s review of the X2:

    The Leica X2 is a bit of curio, to be honest. […] It comes across as slow, light on features, inflexible and expensive.

    My feet felt a little chilly at this point. The prevailing opinion appeared to be that the X2 is overpriced. What good could it possibly do a rank amateur photographer, looking to move past an iPhone, as their primary camera?

    A week later I sheepishly returned from my local camera store with a brand new X2, which raised some eyebrows at home: “You spent $2,000 on a compact? With a fixed lens? Are you mad?”

    Maybe I was mad. Compared to the simplicity of the iPhone I found full manual mode totally confusing. Those first days with the X2 were filled with uncertainty and hesitation as I constantly checked my focal distance on the display, double checked aperture and shutter speed and then wondered why I kept missing shots.

    Then I read an interesting post by photographer Alex Coghe about how he uses the Leica X2 for street photography. From here I delved into some traditional photography techniques for manual shooting, like the ‘sunny 16 rule’ and zone focusing.

    Zone focusing with the X2 is an incredibly satisfying way to take photographs. If you’re used to auto focus it will seem odd but it introduces a really interesting constraint: The focal range can be fixed at a known distance, which means no guessing about what the autofocus will lock on to and no way to alter your composition with a zoom lens. Simply fix your focal range (in feet or meters), estimate the distance to your subject, move your feet and concentrate on nailing the composition.

    After a few days of perseverance the uncertainty melted away and I found my ability to judge distance improved dramatically, allowing me to concentrate my attention on the subject and composition.

    I’ve now been shooting with the X2 for just over a month and have almost never used its auto focus, instead preferring zone focus with full manual ISO/shutter speed/aperture (occasionally I use Aperture priority, to prevent screwing up my zone focus when moving in and out of shadowy areas). I’ve taken almost a thousand shots with the X2. Most of them are truly horrible, unsalvageable messes but I’m putting it down to the learning curve. I have no intention of getting rid of this camera because the keepers are incredible.

    My biggest fear when buying the X2 was that it was going to be an over priced toy. Would I be a good enough photographer to to get anything out of it? I could have spent $1,000 less on a really decent M4/3 camera and a good prime lens. I could have bought a mid-range DSLR body. I could have bought a much less costly compact digital. But would I have used them? Would I have loved them?

    It is my genuine opinion that the X2 is worth every penny of its $2,000 price tag. Professional versus amateur be damned. This camera makes me want to take it along whenever I leave the house, so I do. This camera makes me want to learn more about the masters of photography, so I have. This camera makes me want to take photographs, and I am. In some ways, this camera is very much like the iPhone; a beautifully designed object that you want to have with you all the time that encourages you take photographs.

    If you take a lot of photos of fast moving subjects like children or dogs, or children playing with dogs, the X2 is probably unsuitable. If you need to take very wide angle photographs, or very close-up macro photographs, or use a tilt-shift lens to straighten out a tall building the X2 is probably unsuitable.

    If you’re looking for a portable, light-weight camera that reproduces color beautifully and removes a lot of the analysis paralysis inherent with interchangeable lens systems, the X2 is fantastic choice.

  • Really Really Simple RSS Synchronization

    I’m working on an initialism for a new standard of RSS Synchronization. It’s really, really simple synchronization, so the working title is RRSRSSS.

    Before Google Reader shut down last year, before any of the alternatives had launched, I preemptively replaced it with Fever, hosted on a small Linode VPS.

    I never really used Fever to its full potential. The web interface can’t compete with Reeder and I could never really understand how the ‘hot’ list worked, or what one is supposed to do with ‘kindling’ and ‘sparks’. For me, Fever was a glorified RSS read-position synchronization service. I also wanted to add feeds to Fever from Reeder, but apparently that’s not possible due to the Fever API. I thought perhaps one of the new Google Reader replacement services would be worth a try.

    I tried to sign up for Feed Wrangler, but the service was unavailable, errors littered the screen every time I tried to ‘Join for $19/year.’

    My confidence in RSS synchronization services was at an all time low. Google Reader was gone, Fever was costly to run, had many more features than I needed and Feed Wrangler did not inspire confidence.

    It was time to put a little more “really” in Really Simple Syndication.

    I added a new manual account to Reeder on my iPhone and then added four (4) RSS feeds to that account. Then I refreshed the feeds, checked that I’d read all the current articles and exported that list via email to my iPad where I imported it to Reeder.

    I read my RSS feeds once per day. I estimate that on average there are ten things to read each day. I have since added two new feeds to my list, making a total of six (6), feeds. After adding a new subscription, I simply ‘share’ the accounts via email from Reeder on one device, then import them on the other.

    Because the volume of things to read is low I have no trouble remembering what I’ve read between devices. There’s no need to automatically synchronize anything.

    If you find yourself overwhelmed by your RSS subscriptions, or unread count, or if you’d like to spend less time pruning your RSS inbox and more time doing something productive, I urge you to try this experiment for a month: Export your current RSS subscriptions as a backup, then delete that account from your RSS readers (all of them). Add a new manually refreshed account to your RSS reader, then add up to five (5) feeds to that account. Think carefully about your choices. Select feeds that provide quality material.

    Try Really Really Simple RSS Syndication (RRSRSSS) today. Cut the junk. Remove the clickbait. Spend between thirty minutes and one hour, once per day, reading your RSS feeds, then spend the remainder of your time doing something useful, like finishing that novel you started writing in college, or finally learning to water ski.

  • Avoidance, Delay, Denial

    Frank Gehry:

    Is starting hard?

    You know it is.

    I don’t know what you do when you start, but I clean my desk, I make a lot of stupid appointments that I make sound important.

    Avoidance, delay, denial.

    I’m always scared… that I’m not going to know what to do. It’s a terrifying moment.

    And then when I start I’m always amazed, “Oh, so that wasn’t so bad”!

    From Sydney Pollack’s wonderful 2006 documentary, “Sketches of Frank Gehry”.

  • GORUCK SK26 Second Opinion

    As you might recall Ben made a rather lofty claim, back in September 2013, that he would pick the GORUCK SK26 over, ‘any bag on the market’, even though he’d never used it. In Decmber Ben reviewed the SK26 for real and then decided he preferred the GR1 because he found the SK26, ‘rather boring’, to look at.

    We thought that was the end of Ben’s adventure with bags. We thought the issue was settled once and for all. We thought wrong. After publishing his review, Ben packed up the SK26 and sent it to me for a second opinion.

    I’m not a bag reviewer; this is the layman’s SK26 review.

    First Impression

    As I unboxed the SK26, my designer colleague, who was observing, exclaimed, "That’s really…plain." He sounded disappointed. We sat together and stared at the SK26. Underwhelmed.

    The SK26 is very plain: A slim-depth cuboid shape in all black fabric with rounded corners and two chunky vertical straps. A single fabric carry handle sits unobtrusively on top of the bag. On the front is a single horizontally-zippered "surface" pocket. The main compartment unzips around the bag from bottom corner to bottom corner, revealing the large internal space. An elasticated pocket sits flat against the back of the bag, presumably to hold a laptop in place. Against the back side of the front flap are two horizontally zippered pockets. The top pocket is a normal closed pocket, the lower pocket is covered in a mesh, making the contents visible at a glance.

    First test. I threw my trusty Black Wolf 25 and its contents into the SK26, slung it onto my back and walked forty minutes home from work. It was a hot day; 86ºF at 5:30pm. I was wearing a t-shirt and after just a couple of blocks I could feel my back getting sticky from the close contact of the bag, which sits flat against your back and doesn’t allow much chance for heat to escape.

    To unpack the Black Wolf backpack, I open the main compartment a little, hold the bag with one hand and fish things out. With the SK26 I was able to lie the bag flat, open the main compartment and unpack things easily. As Ben noted in his GR1 review, the ability to open the SK26 completely and unpack it easily is a huge usability improvement over top-loading bags.

    First Week

    Each weekday morning I throw a notebook and some pens, my iPad Air, a water canteen, a pair of shoes and a book or two into my backpack. Then I walk three miles, about thirty–five minutes, to work in a city office. The dress code is casual and the environment informal — I don’t meet with clients. In the evening I throw things back into the bag and walk home.

    The more I used the SK26 over the first week the more I appreciated its ruggedness and no-nonsense design. Unlike my normal backpack, which has no internal padding, I found the SK26 could be tossed around without fear of breaking either the bag or its contents. Presumably one would be more careful when carrying a laptop, but I was able to quickly throw the bag under a desk, or set it down on a concrete footpath without worrying if my iPad would be damaged. Not only did I feel confident that the bag’s contents were protected from knocks, but the bag itself, especially its straps, seemed totally unfazed by any maltreament.

    The only negative experience of the first week was my inability to open the main compartment one-handed while walking. Rummaging for headphones or a pen is a (bad) habit I’ve picked up over the years of using top-loading backpacks. With the SK26 I found this almost impossible; items actually spill out of the main compartment pretty easily if you’re not careful. In the end, I worked around this restriction by storing my headphones and frequently used items (pens etc.) in the front pocket. This restricts the number of readily accessible items due to the front pocket’s relatively small capacity.

    Functionally the SK26 seems complete and well-considered. Each element of the bag seems to have been included only when it genuinely improves the usability or durability of the bag. There are no extraneous elements. Nothing to distract the eye. No "features" for their own sake. No decoration. No ornamentation. The SK26 is ‘plain’ from one perspective, but it’s also true to itself.

    The down side of such ‘rational’ design is that the SK26 still hadn’t grown on me aesthetically after the first week. More troubling than simply seeming plain, the SK26 was beginning to seem unattractive to me. Something was subtly wrong. There was no pleasure to be taken from its appearance, which was causing mixed feelings. How could something be so perfectly functional? So rationally designed? So durable and suitable for its purpose, but fail utterly to evoke a sense of beauty?

    I resolved to consider these questions more carefully during a trip out of town. How would the SK26 perform as a carry-on travel bag?

    Travel Companion

    Over Christmas, we took a two-hour domestic flight to visit with family for five days. As a couple, we try to travel light and five days is comfortably within our ‘hand-luggage only’ duration, even with Christmas presents in tow.

    Between us, we packed a hand-luggage sized, wheeled, upright case. She carried a small handbag and I took the SK26.

    Into the SK26 I packed toiletries in a plastic baggy to satisfy airport security, two pairs of shoes, headphones, charging cables and accessories, a paperback, my iPad and Origami case, plus a Bluetooth keyboard and a few of the flatter presents.

    At airport security, the open-flat main compartment came into its own again. I simply dropped the SK26 flat on the metal bench, unzipped the main compartment, threw the toiletries and iPad into a plastic tray and scooted everything along the conveyor and into the X-Ray machine. The whole process took less than ten seconds and I wandered through the metal detector looking smug, which was probably why I was treated to a random explosives swab.

    Thanks to the previous week’s use, I was ready for the inevitable boarding scrum. I placed my paperback and reading glasses into the SK26’s front pocket allowing me to one-hand them out of the bag as we got to our seat.

    Inside the cabin, the SK26 performed admirably as we jostled for overhead compartment space along with dozens of people who had clearly flouted the carry-on allowances and were happily toting giant gifts, food, drinks and bags of all shapes and sizes. Thanks to the SK26’s slim profile, I was able to stash it between a giant gaudy purse and a box of Krispy Kremes (seriously), even when the stewardess had given up on available space.

    On arrival at our destination, I removed the SK26 from the overhead bin and saw that it had taken a beating in the preceding rush to grab things from the overhead bin. I took a moment to check the contents and was happy to find that only the bag’s outer fabric showed signs of contact with other objects. The iPad was doing just fine, nestled between the solid back panel and internal pocket. I wouldn’t advise putting fragile china or glassware into the SK26 and then throwing it into a festive airborne luggage fight, but I was pleased with the basic strength of the outer walls to offer some protection.

    Possible Comparison

    Comparing the SK26 to a small daypack is a little unfair, so instead I decided to compare it to another backpack I have experience with, the Samsonite Pro DLX. Samsonite no longer sell this pack, but in the current range the Pro DLX 3 looks almost identical. In 2006–2007 I travelled a lot for work. I lugged a 15" HP laptop (with a spinning hard disk and internal DVD-R/W drive) between London, UK and Zurich, Switzerland every week for six months. The Samsonite performed admirably, protecting my laptop, its enormous power adapter and all my business papers. Every week I jumped on and off flights, wandered round in airports and cities, rode public transport and turned up at meetings with ‘C’-level executives. The Samsonite handled most situations well. It wasn’t the prettiest backpack, but it was a good deal better suited to a business situation than most laptop backpacks of the same era and certainly easier on the eye than the SK26.

    While the Samsonite may have the edge when it comes to looks, the SK26 beats it hands down for durability and usability. The Samsonite didn’t feel cheap, but after a year of use the stitching on its straps were starting to come loose and the front-pocket’s zipper had given up entirely, resulting in the pocket being completely useless in a travel situation. The SK26 feels like it could handle serious daily use for years.

    Aesthetic

    Let’s talk about the look of this bag, as it seems to be a sticking point. At first I thought it plain, then I found it not attractive. Now I believe it to be aesthetically honest but not sublime. True to itself but not beautiful.

    Is this lack of beauty a problem for the SK26? How do competing bags that are less honest in their design succeed aesthetically in the minds of consumers?

    Before one starts wearing the SK26, it is reasonable to call it plain, it has no ornamentation to speak of, no color or pattern in its fabric. At this point one may dismiss the SK26 for its plainness, after all there are any number of lively looking competitors selling similar bags for similar costs but with much more eye-catching designs.

    Unlike the SK26, which eschews all ornamentation, the decoration on most other bags is purely aesthetic and while it may satisfy the eye for a while, eventually the brain will know if the bag is lacking in features or ability.

    But as soon as one wears the SK26 and looks at oneself in the mirror it becomes clear that the bag is worse than plain, it is not attractive. How could this be?

    I checked the press shots on the Goruck website to see if it only flatters people built like a U.S. Marine, but it seems to look unattractive on everybody. Check out the guy wearing a business suit, the SK26 looks entirely out of place in this context. It could be a combination of the bag’s height, rectangular shape and single flat color. The height (17") seems to diminish the height of the wearer, making them appear shorter, which is undesirable. I stand at 6’1" and still feel that the bag’s size makes us look proportionally mismatched.

    Because the SK26 does not taper in any direction (depth-wise, top to bottom, would be most obvious), it looks like a solid brick stuck to the back of the wearer.

    The GORUCK website provides a clue to the SK26’s aesthetic neglect. The GORUCK philosophy is one of designing bags ‘for Special Forces soldiers to use and abuse in war’. GORUCK founder Jason MacCarthy claims that his ‘Special Forces brothers trust [GORUCK gear] with their lives’, so naturally, ‘quality is a matter of life or death’ to him.

    The most frustrating aspect of GORUCK’s stance on rugged toughness above all is that they ‘aim to bridge the gap between military and civilian‘, and they don’t make cilivians look good. Perhaps if the bags also underwent trial by designers in a civilian challenge involving skinny jeans, plaid shirts and fixies they would turn out as beautiful as they are tough.

    Finally

    Using the SK26 day-to-day for the past month has been a pleasure. Functionally, it’s pretty much flawless and incredibly durable but then I walk past a shop window and remember that it’s aesthetically neglected.

    If you’re planning on crawling through muddy water, under barbed wire and then climbing over a wall while carrying your 17" MacBook Pro and wearing a business suit, then I can’t think of a better bag than the SK26. If you’re carrying a laptop to your job in the city, don’t use the SK26, as it will speak poorly of your taste.