The Jetway Test

I use a humorous litmus test that I call the Jetway Test to highlight the difference. To perform this test, all you have to do is visualize yourself walking down the corridor of a Jetway as you board an airliner. As you step onto the aircraft, you have a choice of going left into the cockpit or right into the cabin.

To the left, the cockpit is a kaleidoscope of complex controls and gauges, with every surface covered with instruments, knobs, and levers. To the right, in stark contrast, lies the cabin, where everything is gently rounded, smooth, and a calm-inducing shade of beige.

To turn left into the cockpit means that you must learn and master all the complicated technical stuff. You must know what every one of those instruments means. In exchange for understanding all that complexity is the certain knowledge that you are in control and that you are responsible for landing the aircraft at the right place.

To turn right into the cabin means that you relinquish all authority over the flight. In exchange for abdication of control, you get to relax, knowing that you will arrive at the proper destination without dealing with anything more complex than turning the reading light on and off.

The Jetway Test neatly divides the human race into two categories: Those who turn left strongly desire to be in control and to understand how the technology works, and those who turn right strongly desire to simplify their thinking and to have confidence in the success of the flight. Programmers Homo logicus always want to turn left. Users Homo sapiens always want to turn right.