Hmmm, I don't really know how well this actually works in the real world (rather than on a University campus, where people are quite a bit smarter than the average population).
For example, text messages. I can be sitting there with the person that I'm trying to help - the computer spits up a dialog box. The user immediately, reflexively, moves to click on 'yes' or 'OK' or whatever button seems most likely to make the box go away (but is actually going to lead them straight into the problem that they called me for in the first place). So I tell them to stop, and read the dialog box. Then I ask them what they think the computer is trying to tell them. They think about it, and most of the time come up with the correct answer, and their problem is solved. You would have thought that this would teach them the value of reading dialog box messages when trying to resolve problems, but no... The next time they have a problem, you have to go back through the whole thing again...
Another example: the other day I was helping a friend set up a home network. It was a moderately complex setup, and he wanted me to explain how I had identified the problem, and how I found the tight way to fix his problem. But how do you explain the difference between a computer being able to ping a network drive, and the drive icon appearing on the computer's desktop? How do you explain to them that you just guessed that the ADSL modem's config page was available at http://192.168.1.1. You can't, it's the result of years and years of working in the field. The only way to learn that stuff is to play with it yourself, instead of calling in the IT guru to fix it for you.
Anyway, this is an overly long post simply to say that to truly be able to resolve computer problems, you need to be able to understand what is going on underneath all of the UI abstractions presented to the user, and that these things are complex, and difficult to learn.
Thanks for posting this - it's an excellent reminder.
Funny enough, I actually have a long rant I wrote that I was about to publish on my blog this morning.
It's completely finished, and sitting in my drafts. I read it over this morning and considered that perhaps ranting about how people I know don't know how to use computers isn't very productive. It won't help anyone else improve their abilities, and it certainly won't make me any more helpful as a teacher.
And now, today I come across this - a nice coincidence and a reminder that just because I'm good at something, that doesn't give me the right to be rude to others who have come to me for help.
I've to teach my mom how to use the computer after my exams are over. And everytime I tried to teach her before, I failed.
"Don't take the keyboard"
I noticed that I made a basic mistake. I try to use the keyboard and teach her how to do things by telling her. And she used to freak out that I don't let her use the computer and teach her vocally. But my point was to let her watch me do it first and then let use the keyboard.
So this holidays, I think I'll be a better teacher :)
The last time she asked me for some information...
I just told her to "double-click the 'orangy-blue' icon (firefox) and click in the empty white box to the top-right-end of the screen, type whatever you want to find about and press the Enter key. Then click on the blue underlined links on the page to find your info"
Always give a positive direction - say something like: "Put your hands in the air!" Giving a positive instruction gives them something specific to do that doesn't make things worse.
It's not always easy finding something to say, but if you can do it, it works a treat.
For example, text messages. I can be sitting there with the person that I'm trying to help - the computer spits up a dialog box. The user immediately, reflexively, moves to click on 'yes' or 'OK' or whatever button seems most likely to make the box go away (but is actually going to lead them straight into the problem that they called me for in the first place). So I tell them to stop, and read the dialog box. Then I ask them what they think the computer is trying to tell them. They think about it, and most of the time come up with the correct answer, and their problem is solved. You would have thought that this would teach them the value of reading dialog box messages when trying to resolve problems, but no... The next time they have a problem, you have to go back through the whole thing again...
Another example: the other day I was helping a friend set up a home network. It was a moderately complex setup, and he wanted me to explain how I had identified the problem, and how I found the tight way to fix his problem. But how do you explain the difference between a computer being able to ping a network drive, and the drive icon appearing on the computer's desktop? How do you explain to them that you just guessed that the ADSL modem's config page was available at http://192.168.1.1. You can't, it's the result of years and years of working in the field. The only way to learn that stuff is to play with it yourself, instead of calling in the IT guru to fix it for you.
Anyway, this is an overly long post simply to say that to truly be able to resolve computer problems, you need to be able to understand what is going on underneath all of the UI abstractions presented to the user, and that these things are complex, and difficult to learn.