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Where did the wires go?

Written in June, 2022 | Media: Blog | Language: English & Chinese | Theme: "Interface"

Disclaimer: I have not conducted in-depth research on headphones, and most of the headphones referred to in the article are more of an abstract sense headphones in various forms.

Headphone jacks and the wires that has recently made a comeback in my life. Before the pandemic, the headphone jack was actually becoming increasingly distant from me (or us all). I am not a serious headphone enthusiast. I do not care as much about the lossless sound quality that can only be guaranteed by certain wired headphones. But I admire the freedom of wireless headphones, so I converted to wireless early on. Before the pandemic, the last time I used wired headphones for a long time should have been in 2014. After beats launched wireless headphones in 2012, it ended my daily ritual of plugging headphones into the headphone jack and untangling the headphone wires countless times. With the popularization of wireless connection methods such as Bluetooth, the headphone wire has disappeared like a tail that humans evolved away from. As a result, the headphone jack that was once ubiquitous has gradually faded out of the physical world.

When people talk about connecting headphones to their electronic devices, the interface is no longer a 3.5mm audio jack or a Lightning or Type-C connector. When we hear the phrase "connected to someone's phone," the connection is a metaphorical expression. It literally imitates the physical connection between wires and jacks that was common in their past life. In fact, the connection action has been transformed into swipes and clicks on a screen. The abstracted interface no longer has a physical form, and the limitations of the number of connections are no longer the number of physical ports that one hardware could contain, but rather a tiny list on a small screen in the virtual world.

But they returned. How and when did I rediscover the wired headphones? To answer this question, I traced back the impact of sound and music in my life and their evolution. The most critical dividing line is the transition from in-person to online work and study due to the pandemic. In fact, the pandemic coincided with the final stages of my university education and my first job after graduation, so I haven't had any continuous in-person learning and working time since March 2020. Work and studying were filled with various online video conferences and virtual meetings, and all conversations (besides text messages) turned into a process of converting human voices to vibrations, then electronic signals, and finally decoding them back to the human voice.

Theory of Communication

I think I have experienced George Miller's eureka moment of reading through “A Mathematical Theory of Communication” by Claude E. Shannon for the first time. In essence, the transmission of electric signals through wires, the words in a conversation, the sound waves traveling through air, and the neural impulses in the brain are in the fundamental unity of communication in all its form.

We can view the diaphragm and microphone of headphones as two mirrored interfaces, where human voices and electronic signals vibrate and convert back and forth. Here, "listening" is the antonym of "speaking”, and they are in a game of feedback loop, almost like cybernetics. The input and output are chasing each other, in both the real and digital world. "Listening" action contains the output of headphones’ electrically-converted vibrations and the input of ears’ vibrations. The "speaking" of the microphone represents the output of human voices to the input of headphones’ electrical signal. And the reverberation between these actions remains.

In pre-pandemic era, headphones mainly served the one-way function of "listening" for me. During college, I spent most of my time in the architectural design studio wearing headphones. Between 2016 and 2019, my annual music listening time on Spotify steadily increased, reaching 88,294 minutes in 2019, which means I wore headphones and listened to music for an average of about 4 hours per day. Perhaps because I was a student with few meetings, I rarely had any significant microphone usage on my headphones – at most, I used them to free my hands during long phone calls.

Headphones, as a mysterious interface, connect me to another world. Wearing headphones symbolizes being immersed in my own world, and "in the zone" aptly describes my feelings with my headphones on. It means that part of me has stepped out of the real world. I'm in another place, isolated from the actual geo-location in the world, entering my own cave, disconnected from the surrounding environment and people. (On a side note, this experience of using interfaces to travel through space reminds me of the video game series "Portal"; in these games, characters can travel through interfaces that manifested as a physical hole they carve out on a random wall to another space as they want.)

Since I spent 1/6 of my day with headphones, I naturally would choose a headphone that I personally liked. I paid great attention to whether the headphones had noise reduction, comfortable when wearing it for long time, good sound quality (though not at a professional level), and a nice appearance. I've had several pairs of AirPods, noise-canceling headphones, over-ear and in-ear headphones, and for a while, I was eager to try a pair of bone conduction headphones. Just before the pandemic, I reached the local optimum of my headphone experience — a pair of AirPods Pro and a pair of Bose QC over-ear headphones.

However, the arrival of the pandemic disrupted this balance. Long hours of online classes and meetings meant that I had to virtually interface between countless meetings and calls, forcing my headphones to take on the "speaking" function. Both my headphones and I were not well-adapted to this change. Due to working from home and not having to move or remove my headphones to talk to others, I spent more and more time wearing headphones and almost constantly played music—maximizing the "listening" function. But every time I jumped onto a video conference window, I always forgot to stop the music or switch my microphone, resulting in my first words in almost every video interaction being accompanied by exaggerated gestures: "Can you hear me?" Clearly, both my headphones and I were too immersed in the "listening" world, unable to find an interface to reconnect with the world on the other side of the screen.

The difficulty in smooth connection here can be attributed to 2 parts: technicality of switching between different devices, and the user behavior that was hard to retrain. Just like Murphy's Law, it seems that online meeting software cannot seamlessly link or intelligently connect to the headphones and microphones that users want whenever starting up. Most of the time, users need to manually check the headphone output and input devices. And even if it looks like it is connected to the right device, it still felt uncertain. For example, Apple's AirPods' automatic switching is always a wild guessing game on which device it will connect to in the next second. As a result, I don’t use AirPods for Zoom calls on a Mac because any slight activity on the iPhone will constantly switch the connection to the iPhone (and then back). **The wireless connection here becomes elusive due to the invisibility of the connecting action.**

On the other hand, when I am immersed in the vacuum of noise-canceling headphones and the other world of music, quickly returning to the real world and connecting with others is also a concern. Noise-canceling headphones actively isolate us from the outside world, allowing us to focus on our own world. The threshold at both ends of the interface here is even more difficult to break through. Previously, to hear the ambient sound again, all you needed to do was pause the music; even with some non-in-ear headphones, we could still hear the surrounding sounds while they hung on our ears. However, when wearing noise-canceling headphones, I always feel that I am missing out on what is happening around me. This might be because the noise-canceling technology keeps me in a vacuum environment where most sounds are filtered out, creating a sense of disorientation about my surroundings—adding another layer of "disconnected from the world" anxiety.

In the era of noise-canceling, perhaps the most direct way to reconnect with the real world is to simply remove the headphones. Many of my friends have also mentioned that taking off their headphones when meeting someone is like a modern version of doffing one's hat, serving as a ritual to show respect to others. Interestingly, the physical disconnection between the human ear and headphones actually represents the connection between people or between humans and the world.

In this view, the diaphragm and microphone of the headphones respectively serve the two functions of "listening" and "speaking". Although both functions are abstract interfaces, they represent completely different concepts of "connection." Examining just the "listening" part of the headphones, "listening" mostly represents disconnection, detachment, and isolation in most cases. The "speaking" part of the headphones, when combined with "listening" to what others are saying (or conversely, when we "listen" to what others are "saying"), is about connecting and communicating with others and the surrounding world. Only when "listening" and "speaking" are considered together, activating the "speaking" function of the headphones, can a true interface between the user and the world be created.

Wired Earphones as a Product

The discovery of these principles makes me feel that the wireless noise-canceling headphones I used before could not pass the pressure test of the pandemic. In daily study and work situations, using wireless noise-canceling headphones did not make my life easier. So, by mid-2021, I returned to the original wired AirPods.

If I were to describe in an advertisement format why I went back to the most "primitive" wired headphones, it would be like this:

Thinking from a product perspective, after this pandemic, as the traditional headphone interface connection method returns, headphones also return to their core MVP function when they were first manufactured - connection. From the beginning, the original purpose of headphones was to transmit sound from distant ends, connecting information and communication between both sides. All subsequent iterations and developments merely added more refined adjectives to this core function.

We can also see that in various media in the millennial era, the rebellious younger generation often wears a pair of over-ear headphones, as if they are always ready to plug their ears and fight against the entire real world. Around 2012, with the popularity of the Beats by Dre brand, various exaggerated over-ear headphone designs became a trendy accessory for the younger generation. Perhaps in the not-too-distant future, everyone will wear wireless headphones and immerse themselves in personal bubbles, just like in the movie "Her."

However, the pandemic has changed a lot. During the pandemic, questions about whether one can hear and be heard and whether they can connect with the world and others reflect the core issues and daily anxieties of recent human life. The return of wired headphones, reminiscent of returning to the original source, is our response to this issue. We use wired connections to combat the social distancing between people brought by the pandemic, the disconnection between people and the world, and the sense of loneliness in isolation.

As the meme below says, all online meetings during the pandemic are like one séance after another, with each user asking in each separate virtual box, "Are you still there? Can you hear me? Will anyone else join us?" The underlying meaning of this meme is not just about how we try to communicate with those whose time and space do not overlap but also describes the necessity of our personal connection with the world and our pursuit of its stability and convenience.

Finally, returning to the essence of communication, I want to talk about a game we all played called "telephone." Since childhood, we have been learning how to acquire and share information, and how to connect and collaborate with others. However, information can be distorted along the way, electronic signals can be lost, and sound waves can be blocked by objects. Distortion caused by translation and conversion is inevitable. The interface between the human brain and ears, headphones, and computers, even with physical wiring, no matter how stable, is still fragile and naïve. In that case, the solution may require the emergence of more direct interfaces between people and machines, and between people, and biological interfaces may be the direction we are heading towards.

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Chinese version below:

Disclaimer: 本文作者没有对耳机有过深度研究,文章中的耳机大多指代的是较为抽象意义上的各种形式的耳机。

在这一篇,我想从于近期重新回归到我生活中的耳机接口聊起。在疫情之前,耳机接口其实是一个离我(们)越来越远的物件。我不是一个深度耳机发烧友,不在意有线才可以保证的无损音质,又崇尚无线耳机的自由,所以早早便抛弃了有线耳机。在疫情之前,我最后一次长期使用有线耳机应该是2014年,在beats于2012年推出了无线头戴式耳机后,我基本结束了每天将耳机插入耳机接口,还有无数次整理打结的耳机线的日常仪式。自从以蓝牙为首的无线连接方式被发明和普及开来,耳机线如同人类进化掉了的尾巴一样不复存在,与之配套的耳机接口也自然而然地逐渐淡出了实体世界。

当人们在说着将耳机连接到电子设备上时,这里的「接口」不再是3.5mm的音频接口、也不是Lightening或者type-c接口。每当我们听见「已连接到xxx的手机」时,这里的连接只是拟物化式的表达,从字面上来模仿上一代实体线与接口的搭配关系。其实这里的连接行为被转换到了屏幕上的滑动与点击。被抽象化的接口没有了实体,而链接的限制不再是物理意义上的接口数量,而是转换成在虚拟世界中一个小小屏幕中的一个列表。

但我又是什么时候重新找回了有线耳机呢?要回答这个问题,我回溯了声音和音乐对我生活的影响,以及它们的演变。最重要的分界线就是由于疫情影响,我的工作与学习从线下到线上的过渡。事实上,疫情刚好交叠于我大学的最后阶段和毕业后刚刚入职时期,所以我基本上在2020年3月之后就没有任何连续的线下学习和工作时间。工作被线上的各种视频会议和虚拟会面所占满,所有的交谈(除了文字信息之外)变成了从人声转换到声波震颤再到电子信号,最后再反向解码的过程。

在前疫情时代,对我来说,耳机更多承载着「听」的功能。在大学期间,我大多数在建筑设计室度过的时间都戴着耳机。在2016 - 2019年间,在Spotify音乐软件上,我的年度音乐总收听时长稳步增长,并在2019年达到了88294分钟,这意味着,平均每天约四小时我都在戴着耳机听音乐。也可能因为当时是学生,没有很多会议,我鲜少有重度使用耳机上的麦克风的时间——最多只是在长时间打电话时会借用耳机来解放双手。在抽象意义上来说,我们可以把耳机的振膜和麦克风看成两个镜像的接口或者阈限,人声和电子信号在这两个接口中来回震颤、互相转换。「听」所代表的是耳机的输出,耳朵的输入。这里的「听」是「说」的反义词。而耳机麦克风的「说」代表的是耳机的输入,人声的输出。

从另外一方面来讲,耳机作为抽象意义上的接口,将我接入到了另外一个世界。对我来说,戴着耳机象征着沉浸在自己的世界里,「in the zone」 可以很好地表达我在戴着耳机时的感受。「In the zone 」意味着一部分的我跳出了现实世界中。我在另一个地方,与世界上的实际位置隔离,进入了自己的洞穴,与周围的环境和人脱离了联系。(题外话:这个借用接口进行空间穿越的体验让我想到了电脑游戏《传送门》(*Portal*) 系列;在这个游戏中,人物可以在真实的接口中穿越到另一个空间。)

我一直都很依赖于耳机的「听」的功能。因为我的每天1/6的时间是和耳机共度的,我会去挑选一些我个人喜欢的耳机。我会非常关注这个耳机是否降噪,是否音效够好(当然还不够到专业的程度),是否外观好看。我前前后后有过几副 airpods,有过降噪耳机,有过头戴式,入耳式,还有一段时间跃跃欲试地想去入手一副骨传导式耳机。在疫情前的最后时刻,我抵达了我的耳机体验的局部最优,我的日常设备是一副airpods pro和一副Bose QC头戴。

但是疫情的到来打破了平衡点,每天的线上上课和办公意味着我每天都要虚拟穿梭于无数个会议和电话中,于是,耳机被迫担起了「说」的功能。我的耳机和我都不太适应这个变化。因为居家,不用挪动地方或者摘下耳机和他人交谈,我每天戴着耳机的时间越来越长,而且几乎随时都在放音乐 ——「听」的功能被最大化。但是,每一次在我在跳上一个视频会议窗口时,总是忘记停下音乐或者切换我的麦克风,而导致几乎每次我与他人视频的第一句话都是伴随着夸张手势的:「你能听到我吗?」很明显,我和耳机都过于沉浸在「听」的另一个世界里,找不到重新与屏幕另一边的世界连接的接口。 这里连接的困难主要由两部分构成:一方面是不同设备的切换,另一方面是用户意识上的转换。就像墨菲定律一样,似乎线上的会议软件在启动时无法「无缝」衔接,或者智能连接上用户所想让它连接上的耳机和麦克风。大多数时候,用户都需要手动检查耳机输出和输入设备。比如,苹果airpods系列的自动切换让我永远无法预测下一秒我的耳机到底连接在哪个设备上。因此,我们无法在Mac上使用AirPods进行Zoom通话,因为iPhone上的一点点动静就会一直让它切换到iPhone上。**这里的无线连接因为连接这一行为的隐形而变得无法捉摸。** **另一方面来说,每当我沉浸在降噪耳机的真空和音乐的另一个世界里时,如何快速回到现实世界和他人产生连接也是一个困扰。**在一般耳机的基础上,降噪耳机更加主动地将我们与外界隔绝开来,从而专心投入到自己的世界里。这里接口两端的阈限更加难以突破。之前要重新听见环境音只需要暂停音乐,甚至对过去一些非入耳式耳机来说,即便还挂在耳朵上,我们也能听见周围的声音。但戴着降噪耳机时,我总觉得会错过周围正发生的事情,这可能是因为降噪技术使我持续处于过滤了多数声音的真空环境中,无法确认自己所处环境的混乱感——而这为我添置了另一种仿似「与世界脱节」的焦虑。 在降噪时代,或许与现实世界重新连接的最直接方式,是直接取下耳机。幻想家的好友 Yanbing和 Feiyue 之前也同我提到,在见到他人时脱下耳机就如同当代的脱帽礼一样,成了一种对他人表达尊重的仪式。非常有趣的是,人耳与耳机在物理层面上的断开,反而代表了人与人,或者人类和世界的连接。 这样看来,耳机的振膜和麦克风分别担任了「听」和「说」这两个功能,而这两个功能虽同为抽象的接口,代表的却是完全不一样的「连接」概念。单单把耳机中「听」的部分拿来分析,「听」在大多数时候代表的其实是反连接的,是脱离与隔绝。而耳机中「说」的部分,在结合着「听」他人「说」的什么来看,(又或是反过来讲,在我们「听」他人「说」的什么的时候)才是关于与他人和周围世界产生连接和交流的。只有「听」和「说」同时放在一起看,激活了「说」的功能的耳机,才真正产生了一个在用户和世界之间的接口。 而这些规律的发现也让我不禁觉得,我之前所使用的无线降噪耳机,并不能通过疫情的压力测试。在日常学习和上班的情况下,使用无线降噪耳机并没有让我的生活变得简单。所以到了2021年年中,我反而回到了最初的有线耳机Airpods。 如果以一个广告方式来描述我为什么会回到最「原始」的有线耳机,它会是这样的:

- 永久「有电」:不用担心在长时间的通话中,被耳机需要充电而打断;
- 即插即用,连接稳定:实体化的接线和接口让连接重新变得可以预测,所见即所得;
- 麦克风收音效果良好:有线连接延迟较少,不用担心耳机和麦克风的分开收音;
- 音质不错:这一项是折中,但是音质足够支持日常通话需要;
- 不主动降噪:仍能听见环境音,没有完全脱离现实。

从产品角度来思考,在这次疫情之后,随着耳机接口传统的连接方式的回归,耳机也回归它最初被制造出来时最核心的 MVP 功能 -- 连接。从诞生开始,耳机最原始的用途是用来传播处在遥远两端的声音,连接起两边的信息传递与交流。而后所有的迭代发展,只是在这个核心功能上加上了更多更细化的形容词。

我们也可以看到,在千禧年代的各种媒介中,叛逆的年轻一代总挂着一副头戴式耳机,好像随时准备好将耳朵堵住,对抗整个现实世界。2012年前后,随着 beats by dre 品牌的流行,各式各样夸张造型的头戴耳机更是成为了年轻一代潮流装扮的一个挂饰。也许在不远的未来,每个人都会像在电影 《她》(*Her*) 中一样,戴着无线耳机与沉浸在个人泡泡里。

但是疫情改变了很多。在疫情中,这些关于能否听到与被听到,能否与世界和他人连接的问题,更反映了人类最近生活的核心问题与日常焦虑。而这种如同回归原始母体一般的有线耳机的回归,正是我们对这个问题的回应。我们使用着有线连接来对抗疫情所代表的人与人的社交距离,人与世界的脱节感,还有隔离中的孤独感。

如下图这个迷因(meme,「表情包」)所说的一样,疫情期间的所有的线上会议就像是一次一次的通灵仪式,每一个用户都在每一个分割开来的虚拟小方框中一次又一次地问到:「你还在吗?你能听得见我说话吗?还会有人会加入我们吗?」而这个meme的背后含义并不只是在说我们如何试图与一些时空不重叠者进行“通灵”交流,更是形容了我们个人与世界连接的必要性,和对其稳定性和方便性的追求。 最后聊起交流的本质,我想回归到我们都玩过的一个叫「传话游戏」的游戏。从童年开始,我们就在学习如何获得信息和分享信息,如何联系与他人的默契和连接。可是信息在途中会失真,电子信号会在途中丢失,声波也会被物体阻挡。翻译和转化中造成的失真是不可避免的。人的大脑和耳朵,和耳机,和电脑之间的接口,即使是实体化接线,哪怕再稳定,仍然是脆弱的,仍然是天真的。那么,这里的结局可能需要依靠人与机器之间、人与人之间更直接的接口的兴起,那生物界面也许是我们可能走向的地方。

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