Featuritis Curse

I've really been enjoying my new Apple MacBook.  Why didn't I switch earlier?  The TV ad is true: everything... just works.  Yesterday I found another benefit as I accidentally clicked on the link in a spam email (bad Kevin, bad Kevin!) and frantically Googled to find information about the malicious spyware that should have been installed.  It wasn't.  Because it wasn't designed for the Mac, and in fact there have been no reports of Mac spyware this year.

It's a simple, intuitive machine.  Which matches the evolution of my life... a drive toward minimalism and simplicity.  A couple months ago I went through my closets and ended up taking 75% of what I own to Goodwill.  Similarly more than half the pantry went to the Food Bank, most books were donated to the local public library... you get the picture.  I even removed most of my season passes off of Tivo.  Regular readers remember that last summer I realized how much time I wasted in front of the TV so I simply turned it off.  Simply.  Minimization is a liberating experience.

Where am I going with all of this?  Beats me.  Except that earlier this week I came across a post on Peter Abilla's Shmula that once again reminded me of the power of simplicity.  He discusses the "Featuritis Curve" which correlates user happiness and the number of product features:

Who hasn't experienced this frustration?  Yes I know it looks like the Laffer Curve, but that's completely besides the point.  My MacBook immediately came to mind: I opened the case for the first time and it turned on, asked me how I was doing, and went to work.  No endless series of install screens.  I don't have the capability to modify every miniscule little feature, but I don't need to.  I simply need it to work reliably and consistently.

Keep it simple.  Please.