The Hits Keep Coming...

Din received a phone call a few days ago. Their contract ends on the 4th.

This time next week - there will be only three of us left.

Nesting, Nesting, 1, 2, 3...

Update Jan 2, 2013: I've added user observations and energy savings after eight months.

A few days before Black Wednesday, my former mentor and I were talking smack about good user interface. Always fun to slag on the stuff that sucks - and let's face it, there's plenty of crap UI out there.

They'd just attended a presentation about the design of the Nest thermostat and were decidedly in the I-need-to-get-me-one-of-THOSE camp.

With the spectre of professional death imminent, I said "If I don't get canned this week, I'm totally getting one."

Well, I didn't get canned. Thus:



Okay, I know what you're thinking: $250 bucks is a lot to spend on a thermostat.

Which it is. I see that now.

At the time I justified this by saying-

1. It's cool. Might as well be up front about that.
2. It's not a toy, it's a household device that should save us money on heat.
3. I might as well get some experience using good user interface for a change. I might learn something.

E's reaction was basically "So, you're saying you need this for work? Ha!"

I suppose I deserved that.

But having done the install and the wireless connection - I can at least give some initial impressions of the Nest as a thermostat, its interface, and my expectations for the long term.

First off, it's hard to ignore the eye-candy of the design. A LOT of work has obviously gone into this product. There are unboxing sites for the Nest. C|net has gone out of their way to review the Nest based on the coolness of its visuals and features.

Installing a thermostat is not something anyone thinks of doing, since your house almost certainly comes with one. Most of us take what we get. Even if we hate what we get enough to replace it - the assumption is that this will require an expert. Nest aims to convince you otherwise.

Physical Installation

A thermostat is pretty much a glorified on/off switch that straddles the bundle of low voltage wires controlling your furnace and air conditioner. Replacing a thermostat is requires separating a bunch of wires from a central switch and re-attaching them to the Nest in the correct places.

That alone ups the cost of entry considerably. So the folks at Nest have instructional video paired with a manual (complete with adhesive labels to keep track of which wire is which). Watch the video, (g'wan) and tell me that didn't look easy.

Now, like any how-to, you're only getting an idealized version in the video. In their video, removing the old thermostat reveals a wall blemish or two that magically vanish around 2:15.

When I remove my old thermostat, I'm treated to a horror show of unpainted and shattered wallboard. Moving the wires causes an avalanche of bits to pour out of the wall. There are - impressively - EIGHT holes beneath my thermostat, each complete with a wall molly that needs to be ripped out - causing more damage.

None of this is Nest's fault - but I'm composing a real world list of things a prospective Nest owner should keep in mind before they buy and attempt the idealized install.

The first two items would be:
1) Make sure your house is compatible with Nest. (I did, and it was)
and
2) Take a picture of your current thermostat's wiring. Make sure you can read any terminal labels. Move wires and take multiple pictures if necessary. Save these pictures on a device that is backed up.

-but the third one would be
3) Expect to spend some time preparing the wall where you will install the Nest.
You will probably need to spackle and paint. If you are buying the Nest for its aesthetic qualities, you might do this before your nest arrives. Once it arrives, you might be too jazzed up to patiently apply two coats of paint and wait for them to dry.

If you boil down the installation process, the Nest folks are bringing a few innovations

• the Install Video. Seeing is believing, and sometimes even comprehending. Every vendor should do this.
   
• the built-in level. Another great idea. When you attach the base to the wall, you can drill the hole with one hand and hold the base level with the other hand. On a regular base install, you'd have had to   make a mark on the wall with a pencil on a separate step. Not really a game changer, but a smart move that shows somebody was thinking. You have to make the built in level actually be perpendicular to the vertical  axis of the base, so I'm sure that was a fun argument in the design discussions.
   Why do we have to do this? People have levels already!
  "Because this makes it easier to do."
   But they only do it once... blah, blah, blah..
  Yeah, I could have done without, but I'm glad they put it in there.
   
• the Wire Labels. Yeah, you could write down that "Yellow wire goes to W1 terminal," but it's so much easier to put a W1 sticker on the wire that goes to W1 on your old thermostat. Later, this allows you to take the wire labelled W1 and plug it into the Nest's W1 terminal. Less opportunity to screw up.

Oh, when I put in the wires? I screwed up.

One of the X factors in the install is that every thermostat is going to have different wires. Different colors, different combinations, and different labels. Or no labels at all. Unless you know which wire is which, you won't know what nifty labels to apply and - more to the point - you won't know where to install them.

My mistake was caused by a brown wire labeled "24V(c)"  This label appears nowhere in the compatibility wizard or on the sheet of wire labels. When I spoke with Nest's compatibility guy he told me this wire was the counterpart to the red wire attached to the "R" terminal - it was the other half of the power loop. Power come in on R. Power go out on 24V(c). Okay, I said. And I wrote that down.

When it came to actually installing the Nest, I had two labels with the letter R on them. One said "Rh" and the other said "Rc" So, I put the Rh label on the red R wire (in my mind, R for red, h for "hot") and the Rc wire on the brown 24V(c) wire (R for "counterpart to R" and c for "(c)").

So when I put all my wires in place, I put the brown Rc wire into the terminal labeled Rc. And when I switched on the power, it no workee.

I called Nest, but their service line is closed when I called (around 11pm), so I googled 24V(c) and found a few mentions of this being a common wire.

This I know, from nothing.

But common begins with the letter C, and I figured, I'd move the Rh/24V(c) wire over to the C slot and see if that did it.

It did.

Power!

Thus we learn:

4) Find out what each of your thermostat wires is and what it does. Write it down. The Nest folks have a great service line for compatibility (they want you to buy, so it's a high priority line.) There's a lot of variation in thermostat wiring, so call them with questions on what each of your wires is and what it does. They recommend emailing their support address with a photo of your wires - something I did and heartily recommend both for the install and for reason #8, below). Ask them what each wire is. Even if they only know a few of them for certain, write those down. Knowing what my other wires were saved me from un-doing correct wires and allowed me to focus on the unknown. If I'd bothered to ask (or had been told) what label my brown 24V(c) wire should have gotten, I would have gotten the physical install in one try.

Initial setup: Orienting the unit.

Once you see Nest's screen fire up, you are immediately proud of yourself. It is very pretty and the interface is iPod cool. Turn the unit left or right, press the unit to click.

My unit wanted to connect to wireless immediately, so I started dialing in my network name (I don't broadcast my SSID). For the thousandth time, I wished I picked a shorter SSID, but dialing letters and numbers into the Nest makes you feel like a safecracker.

Click-click-click-click-click...A
Click-click-click-click-click...R
Click-click-click-click-click...1
and so on.

I was asked my wireless security protocol (None, WEP, WPA or WPA2).

Now this is honestly something I didn't remember. I know, I should. But once you set this up, you don't think of it much. And I seemed to remember mine was none of these.

The Nest failed to connect using any of them, each time requiring me to dial in my lengthy SSID and password. *sigh*

Ultimately, I logged into my router and found out I was using WPA + WPA2. This confused me for a bit, but I went back and dialed in my SSID and password and chose WPA2. And it still failed to connect.

It was about 1 in the morning by this time, so I went to bed.

In the morning, I tried again and it connected immediately. (I was probably tired and fumbling my password before). Anyway, the Nest tried to perform a software upgrade and failed for some reason. It said it would try later, so I pressed on with the setup tasks.

These are mostly "Where am I?" settings. You enter your ZIP code, tell it what type of devices it's connected to (Gas or Oil Furnace, Forced Air A/C) and what mode it should start in (Heat).

And the date and time. That seemed odd, since I was connected to the interwebs - but it's easy enough to enter.

What have we learned?

5) What is your wireless security protocol? If you don't know offhand, visit your router and find out. Write it down.

6) Check to see that your router's firmware is updated. If you have connection issues, this is one of the items on the Troubleshooting Nest's WiFi connection checklist. Updating router firmware is no fun, but you should be doing it. My router last had a firmware upgrade years ago, but I'm ashamed to admit I was out of date. Don't be like me.

6a) Send your router manufacturer hate mail. Only do this if they (like NetGear) have firmware upgrade instructions that say "Write down all of your router settings. Then upgrade and erase them all. Then manually re-enter all of your router settings."

I'm kidding. Upgrade instructions that bad don't merit hate mail. They deserve getting a burning bag of poop.  I digress...

Pairing Nest with your account and Wireless Debugging

In order for Nest to be truly special, it needs to talk to the mothership at Nest.com AND (more importantly) an application on your smartphone/ipad. To do this, you'll need to create an account on Nest.com.

Username/email
Password
Password confirm 

Done.

(And kudos to the design crew for resisting the urge to spam us with marketing fields and defaulted checkboxes with 6-point fonts that say "Please send me crap." I truly appreciate it.)

This gets you halfway. The mothership at Nest.com is ready, now you need your Nest thermostat to generate an Entry Key that you type into your Nest.com account after you've logged in.

When I asked my Nest to generate an Entry Key - it gave me an error message.

Entry key error: Initializing please try again

So I did. And it gave me the same error and told me to try again.
So I did. And it gave me the same error and told me to try again.
So I did. And it gave me the same error and told me to try again.
etc.

This was really starting to annoy me. So I checked in the Network Settings and found my Nest wasn't connected to WiFi. So I re-entered my looong SSID and password *sigh* and tried to generate a key.

Same result.

So I went searching through the Nest's menus and found a Restart option.
Settings>Reset>Restart

Thus have we learned:
7) You can reboot! Perhaps all Windows users believe rebooting has magical powers, but we only think that because it does.

I restarted the Nest and asked it for an entry key. It gave me one.

Ta-dah!


Once I got the unit paired up with the web account - I could download the mobile app and set it up.

I do that, log into the app with email and password and - presto!

Five minutes later, though.... Sadness. It's telling me that my thermostat is disconnected from the web.

I go back to the thermostat and *sigh* re-enter my long SSID. This time it appears to have memorized my password (nice).

I check my mobile app and I'm back online.

Five minutes later, though... Sadness.

At this point - I clearly have an issue that goes beyond basic setup. I call their support line and get the first genuinely poor customer experience so far.

The guy on the phone sounds like he's reading from a script and most of it is aimed at a person with problems upstream of where I am in the process.

I know I've connected to WiFi with the unit. I've seen its MAC address on my router. But the connection doesn't last.

I've checked their list of routers that have connection issues. My router isn't on it.

I get seamless wireless connections in every room in my house. This could be interference, but I am getting connected. Then I'm getting dropped.

Nest support offers me vague advice like setting the wireless "channel" (whatever that is) to 20MHz and buying another router.

Yeah, okay. Thanks. Click.

I scour my router settings for any terms resembling ones the support guy recommended trying. I find none of them.

Eventually I blunder across a setting whose bullet summary suggests can help with devices getting interference. I try it and it seems to work.

I'll post it if continues to work, but as of this writing - it's too early to be sure.

The connection has stayed up all night and all day, but until I've gotten a week at least with no hiccups, I wouldn't call this solved.

I have a good deal of sympathy for Nest support folks trying to diagnose wireless connection issues on an ever-expanding list of routers for people who (in all likelihood) know next to nothing about wireless routers.

Still, as it is an essential part of setting up the advanced features of Nest, they should do better. The online help they have should be turned into a diagnostic wizard or flowchart so users can be routed through the likeliest fixes before getting routed to support reps.

The unit should have diagnostic codes that it can display so the techs ask the user to read error codes or signal strength measurements to them. There's a lot of room for making that user experience better.

---

While I was initially griping about the irony of installing a new thermostat at a time when the weather is damn near perfect outside (all geeked up and nothing to heat or cool) - it occurs to me that there is a definite upside. I don't think I'd want to install a new thermostat during a cold spell - when I absolutely had to have heat. Debugging the install is frustrating enough when I don't care if the fan runs or the heat is on.

Just because the Nest folks have made thermostat installation a lot easier and comprehensible doesn't mean they've made it a change that should be made casually.

Which leads me to the last thing on the list of things I like to think I've learned:

Changing a thermostat involves disabling a critical home system temporarily - potentially for longer than you expect.

And thus, I add to the list:

8) If the thermostat you're replacing was functional, save it. Put your old thermostat in a ziploc bag with all its parts and store it somewhere safe and accessible. New technology is awesome and all, but one thing lost in the promo materials and the rush to install awesomeness is this: A thermostat is a critical piece of your home systems. If it doesn't work, you will not be able to heat or cool your home. In the summer, you can open windows and use fans, but if there is a serious problem with the the Nest when it's below freezing - having a backup thermostat will allow you time to wait for tech support without risking damage to your pipes.

---

Which is not to say I'm disappointed in my Nest. Quite the contrary.

• I am thoroughly in love with the idea of a programmable thermostat that has modern user interface.
• I love that the Nest and its helper application can be updated and enhanced after they are installed.
• I love that I will be able to monitor and track my energy usage over time.
• I love being able to monitor and control my heating and cooling from anywhere (even if it's just from my bed)

Nest's marketing material points out over and over again that around 90% of programmable thermostats aren't programmed correctly. A good chunk of the energy savings they're bragging on relies on the difference between a constant temperature and their easily programmed alternative.

Well, I'm not going to realize a lot of that savings because I did program my old thermostat.

I absolutely hated my old thermostat - despite its virtues:

• already installed/paid for
• 7 day programming
• reliable
• a battery to retain data 

Why? because it was absolutely murder to interact with. 

I'd programmed a varied schedule to save energy based on the four days of our schedule that were regular. But for the other three days I picked a temp and held it. Partly because on those days, our needs would vary - but also because adjusting and readjusting to find a better setting was too much of a pain.

I did four days and then gave up and said "good enough." The fact that the hassle would probably be worth it did nothing to nullify the fact it was a hassle.

Adjusting the program with the Nest is not a hassle. It is the opposite of hassle. It's fun to play with.

Good user interface leads to more interaction. With the Nest, I expect to refine my settings for the remaining three days AND take advantage of a system smart enough to switch off when I'm gone.

Plus, I get data so I can improve and refine over time.

Plus, it really does look cool.

Update Jan 2, 2013: I've added user observations and energy savings after eight months.

Decimation

Okay, lets say you're at your desk and you have the following information:

One -  A lot of people in your area are being laid off today
Two - People are being notified in person, then walked out of the building with a box of belongings;
and
Three - Not a hell of a lot else

That's a short list. Guaranteed to provoke your stressed mind into demanding more information.

Plenty of people are willing to fill that need with crap:

"...100 people are being let go."
"...They're going to do this every year."
"...I heard security is watching the parking lot in case people go postal."

Most of this noise is un-sourced nonsense that has no bearing on the situation at hand - Have I been canned? - so it's easy to filter out.

But people have been told to wait at their desks, and

Idle + anxiety = bull$h!t factory. 

 Pretty soon, some truly irresponsible stuff starts making the rounds.

I'm told definitively that my boss has been sacked. This does not seem likely, but (because I am stupid) I repeat this nonsense to someone else. My original source returns and rattles off the names of others who will soon be shown the door.

At which point, sanity returns and I realize that this person is full of crap. They certainly could find out who has been sacked, but there's no way in hell they're getting their hands on a list of future ex-employees. Which makes me question their original information - and think myself a dork for getting caught up in the guessing game.

As sucky as it is, we'll know when we'll know.

The team I've been on has been through several purges in the past. We were once over 20 people strong. Three weeks ago we were 9. When Black Wednesday started, we were 8.

We used to be a cohesive team, too. But the re-organization split us into essentially a core group of 4 (who I'll call Apok, Friday, Isis and Murdock) and the rest of us (myself, Ruby, Stimpy, and Din) operating more or less independently.

Friday's been predicting the end for so long, most of us have tuned them out. They'd predicted massive head-rolling back when the new secure doors were put in - and nothing happened.

This time, people are walking in the halls with boxes and Friday's stopped predicting the end, they've started preparing for it. They're emailing personal contact information to everyone on the team "just in case." I read the group's relative anxiety level in their response time.

Apok is first. I've worried about them. They've been outwardly cheerful, but clearly under a lot of strain. 

Isis is second. That's a surprise. No way they're in danger, though. Isis is one of those pros you just want to shadow so you can learn how to be awesome. They're only replying fast because efficiency is a habit. True, the managers aren't involved in the layoff decisions - but Isis is in the clear. Bank on it.

Murdock doesn't even reply. I take that as a sign of confidence. Murdock has a unique skillset and knows it. What's more, they've probably done the math on the expected number of cuts vs. the size of our division. "The numbers they're talking amount to one in ten," they've pointed out more than a few times. "That's bad, but the odds are still in our favor."

One in ten... No need to panic, folks...

Then come Ruby, Stimpy, and Din. They're like me, independents. We're not permanent staff, which normally would put us more at risk - but this time around the signs are inverted. Stimpy was hired a week ago, which I took as a bad sign for permanent staff. If consultants are coming in before a layoff...

I reply directly to Friday's personal email, which in retrospect makes the group think I didn't reply at all, but I was hardly thinking straight at the time. I was getting an earful of BS from some passerby. A huddle was forming - and I figured this was as much as I could stand.

I need Murdock to do something for me, so I email them and ask if they'll have time later in the afternoon. They reply almost immediately - they're out of the office, but I should set something up for tomorrow.  

What a day to be out... still, you miss all the stupid.

I walk out of the office and get some coffee. At the elevators, some older woman is holding a box next to her chaperon. She's loudly telling a colleague that she's happy to go. "It's finally over with. I'm fine..." I wonder if she's fronting or truly relieved. To me, getting canned should be private. You shouldn't have to be brave or explain yourself. You should just be gone and leave an email.

I can't bring myself to share the elevator, lest this person be forced to explain to me how this doesn't bother her. I just want some coffee...

One the way back, I opt to swing by my boss's office. Nothing like hard information. I've been told repeatedly that they are gone. If that's so, they won't be there. Shine light on the BS, it will go away.

I'm taking the long route - so I go by Apok's desk. They're there, talking to someone.

No. Not talking to. Being watched by.

-as they stand over an empty box.

Apok smiles and gives me an impromptu wave.

What do you do??!

You go over, you can't help it. You give them a hug and say "Good luck." I feel absolutely gutshot for them. They crushed their last project, and now this? Soon as I speak the words, I realize I've overstayed. Apok's minder will want them to keep moving. I don't even look at the minder. I back off and wave, "See ya."

So utterly inadequate.

I leg it down towards my boss's office. They're still in there, shoving papers around and talking with someone who looks crestfallen. I blow past and head for the elevator. The boss is still here. The rumormill is so full of it.

I swing back to my project's turf. I need to tell Din about Apok. Din's got a visitor, but it's a social call. Unfortunately, it's a social call just like mine.

I'm telling Din about Apok, that I spoke to Apok and they told me they were gone. This is fact not rumor.

Din's visitor tells us both that Isis is gone.  Sonofab!tch. Isis. NoF*ckinWay.

I grill the source, but it's for real. The visitor's been asked to pull some of Isis's stuff for them. Stuff that wouldn't fit in the one box they had ready.

Goddamn.

The idle staffers around us stop eavesdropping and begin announcing how they've been packed for weeks now, how if the worst happens, they'll be ready-

I leave. Hell with this.

I need to talk to Friday. My IM's down, so I fire off an email. "You still here? Cos I'm here..." I'm kidding, they're at their desk, like everybody else.

Only they don't respond.

I could walk to their desk, but get serious. It's email, and they could be in the bathroom.

I forcibly re-start IM and check Friday's status:

Offline for 1 hour.

Not Away. Offline. Their computer is off.

I check Apok's IM status:

Offline for 1 hour.

Isis:

Offline for 1 hour.

It's not hard data, but while I'm sitting there my cube-mate comes in and says "What was the name of your colleague who used to be in our morning stand up meetings?"

I rattle off the name of a former consultant.

"No, not them. The other one who helped them out."

"Friday."

"I just saw them in the hallway carrying a box."

FuckFuckFuck.

Cube-mate tries to walk it back. "They could be escorting someone.."

Which is a fun hope to entertain, but we both know that Friday isn't a manager and only managers are escorting people out.

Three out of eight is a hell of a lot more than one out of ten.

My cell phone rings. I don't recognize the number and send it to voicemail. And then it occurs to me this could be a call I need to take.

I play the voicemail and hear my account rep talking-

Oh, sh!t.

--No. Not my account rep. Some recruiter calling to see how I'm doing. They obviously know what's going on. And while they're saying "How are you?" what they're really asking is "will you be interested in applying for one of the positions I'm paid to staff?"

In the normal run of things, a consultant would be let go before they came to work. By phone, usually by their account rep. The fact that I got into the building I'd taken as a good sign. But absolutely nothing about today is the normal run of things.

While I'm decompressing, a manager pops in to ask innocent questions and my cube-mate and I both look behind them for someone with a box. But they are alone.

Hell with this. I need to do some work. I test out some fixes to something I screwed up the day before.  Which reminds me I need to set up a meeting for Thursday afternoon.

My counterpart (who unlike me, is an actual developer) needs to sit in on a review - and I keep forgetting to include them in the invites. So I do them first.

Then I do Murdock.

Absent-mindedly. But the name doesn't take. The Exchange server is chronically unreliable, so when it hangs I just get irritated.

Then I pull a past email from Murdock and check their Outlook properties.

Everything's blank except the display field. It shows Murdock's mail has been routed to an administrator.

This is insane. Nobody can do what Murdock does. They're not even here today...

Murdock's boss is different from mine, and they're definitely gone. Maybe this is part of a re-organization. Maybe they're not...

Stimpy confirms it. They saw Murdock's stuff getting boxed up. People taking his laptop.

Rumormill's telling me Ruby's gone, too - but when I check Outlook they're still listed. Rumormill? Still full of it.

I check the rest of us, Din & Stimpy. Outlook still knows us.

I'm assuming that's a good sign...

I'm contacted by external sources telling me - again - that my boss is gone. I check Outlook and find them.Does no one think before they say these things??

Almost in the same instant, my boss sends a meeting request to Ruby, Din, Stimpy and I. It's for the following morning.

It's a confirmation of sorts. The five of us will survive until tomorrow at least.

The day ends with people guiltily celebrating their continued existence.

**************
The following day, I'm going in and I see Murdock by the security desk. Probably waiting to pick up their stuff. As I spent part of yesterday trying to secure Murdock's laptop so we could use its unique software - I'm too ashamed to even say hi. I slip by and head for the meeting room.

Everyone's there early and too nervous for chit-chat.

The meeting with the boss ends up being a statement of the obvious. "We've decided to staff this need with consultants."

My boss informs us that the rumor of his demise spread all the way to their spouse. Someone actually called my boss's home to ask if they were still employed. When they were informed that, yes - my boss still had their job - they insisted they'd heard otherwise.

Who does that kind of crap? Wait 'til the dust settles, eh?

The news is brief, and as we start deteriorating into gossip, the boss ends the meeting.

We file out and collectively exhale.

Four of us.

The Smell of Fear

They announced it months ago.

We will lay off 100 people in your division in May.

They then nullified traditional causes for hope, like past performance, or professional relationships.

Your managers will not take part in these decisions.

Then they said nothing.

For months.

Some clues escaped  - the grapevine informed everyone that managers were being given training on how to usher people out of the building. Given the scope of the cuts, it would not be possible for some managers to escort all their dismissed employees in a timely fashion.

So they’d need help.

People in our division were then told that on the appointed day (whenever it should occur) all meetings would be cancelled and everyone was to wait at their desk until the work day ends or they are fired – whichever comes first.

There’s been a lot of speculation as to when that day is. The assumption has been that it would be soon and on a Thursday – because a lot of staff take alternating Fridays off.

Makes sense. Totally plausible.

Badly sourced, though.

And wrong.

I’m coming in the building watching our product owner exiting the building with someone I don’t know. They’re carrying a banker’s box.  The unknown staffer is carrying an assortment of bags. They look grim.

But it’s Wednesday…

I convince myself they’re headed to a trade show. I’ve done the trade show thing and no doubt carried a similar expression at the time.

I’ve forgotten my badge, naturally. So I go to reception and there’s a new procedure for getting in.  It takes forever, and I’m worried if I’m going to make my morning meeting on time.

In the hall I see one of my favorite clients. She gives a thumbs down signal to me – and I have a momentary fear that she’s on her way out – but no.

“It’s today,” she says, “they started at 8.”

She doesn’t need to explain what is happening. It’s been the first and last topic of every meeting for the past month. It’s been the reason 20-year veterans are too stressed to focus and spend hours just praying they'll get a severance package.

I go to my desk thinking – This is just perception. Rumors have been flying for days and the human mind can only stand so much suspense.

It was just a person carrying a box…

I get to my desk and see my inbox is flooded with meeting cancellations.

…all meetings will be cancelled.

I do a once around the pods to make sure people I know are still here – then back to my desk.

And here I sit, waiting for the end – or the end of the day.

Like a good little soldier.