I recently got curious about what happens to the runtime permissions state when the user revokes or grants a permission using the OS Settings app, rather than allowing or denying in the dialog prompt that an app can show to request permission.
For background, there are two parts to the state that an app can query at any time:
shouldShowRequestPermissionRationale() returns true or false. True means that the user has previously denied your request for this permission, so you should explain to the user why your app needs this permission. This returns false if the user denies the permission and checks the “don’t ask again” box.
The question I got curious about was this: what happens when the user revokes a permission in the settings app? If they had previously chosen “don’t ask again”, but then later grant the permission in settings, then revoke the permission again, can you prompt for the permission?
I made a simple app to try it out, and came up with this for the possible states:The answer is that if the user revokes a permission in settings, all of that history essentially goes away. You’re left in the same state as if you had asked for permission and the user had denied it once, but you can ask again.
I realize this isn’t the sort of thing that’s going to happen in the course of normal usage; I don’t expect most users to ever toggle those permissions from the settings app. But I think it’s worth understanding how it works.
Every year as state legislative sessions get started, there’s a flurry of scary headlines of the form: “[State] [Party] files bill to do [thing I find scary, bigoted, or irresponsible]”. It’s tough to know from reading whether this is something you should get concerned about.
Good reporting can help to fill this in – is this a senior legislator, are they a known kook, etc. But there’s another, more general piece of this context that I wanted to help fill in. My question is, overall: how often does a bill go from being filed (its first official step) to becoming law (its final official step)?
First you need at least a rough understanding of how a legislature works. You could watch the classic Schoolhouse Rock video:
Or I’ll give you the 60-second version (skip to the next paragraph if you already know how it works): a legislator files a bill, which is a thing that they want to become law. The person who files is called the “sponsor” or “patron.” It’s referred to a relevant committee, which is made up of a subset of the legislators in their chamber (the House or Senate, usually). If a majority of the members of the committee vote for it, then it goes to the full chamber, if it gets a majority vote there then it’s handed over to the other chamber, and the committee and full-chamber process repeats. After that, the governor signs the bill then it becomes a law. (Exact details vary by state, but it’s probably pretty close to that, unless you’re in Nebraska. Find your legislature’s website and they probably have a “how a bill becomes a law” page to explain their version of the process.)
The important thing to know is that bills can (and do) fail at any of those steps in the previous paragraph. Depending on the rules of the chamber, if the leadership doesn’t like the sponsor, or the bill, it may never even come up for a vote. Or those votes will happen in a closed session of a subcommittee, where the public doesn’t get to see which legislators voted to kill a bill.
Back to the point, I downloaded the history of every bill filed in the North Carolina General Assembly (NCGA), my state legislature, since 1985 and parsed out its fate. The answer to my question was 23.6% — just under a quarter of our bills actually become law.
So when you see that scary headline, keep in mind that a bill being filed is actually more likely to fail without becoming law, than to succeed. I’m not telling you to ignore it, or not to fight it — on the contrary, this should encourage you to fight. Be part of the reason that the bill you don’t like failed. Get out there and kill that bill.
I’m sorry, I had to. I don’t even like this movie, but the pun was just sitting right there.
Since I’ve got all this data, I decided to answer another question quickly: how often does the governor veto bills? This next chart shows how often, when given the option to sign or veto a bill, the governor chose to veto:
So, uh, not often. There’s a tiny little spike in the 2011-2012 session, when we had a Democratic governor and a Republican-controlled legislature, but even then it barely registers on the chart.
If you got this far and you think this was at least a little neat, I want to do something for you. I’ve got all this data downloaded and parsed, and I’m sifting through it, but I want to know what questions I should try to answer. Here are a few that I want to tackle next:
a breakdown of where bills fail – in committee, in the full chamber, in the other chamber.
which legislators get more of their bills passed?
are bills with more co-sponsors more likely to pass?
Can you come up with others? If you have a question or a hypothesis, tweet it at me @jebstuart and I’ll see if I can answer it.
Following are a few notes about methodology & assumptions:
Why start in 1985? That’s as far back as the easily-available online records go (and almost my full lifetime) so I’m calling that “the relevant dataset”. I feel like it’s enough data to get a good sense of the overall pattern.
Why are there only data points every other year? The NCGA operates in two-year sessions (e.g. we’re currently in the 2017-2018 session), and that’s how their bills are filed.
What about resolutions? An NC legislator can file a “bill” or a “resolution”, but resolutions are typically honorary things without legal weight, so I excluded them from the dataset as not relevant to the question I wanted to answer.
What about “extra” (or “special”) sessions? I didn’t include them either. They’re typically single-purpose sessions with few bills filed, and I didn’t want to clutter the data.
Are the numbers the same for [other state]? Not the exact same, for sure. Maybe similar, maybe not. I have a hunch these results are probably “typical”, within a standard deviation or so, but I can’t verify that without a lot of work that I’m not going to do.
At their I/O conference, Google announced Android Wear, Android Auto, and Android TV. As I watched the series of announcements, I was struck with this metaphor: your smartphone is the brain, and everything else is an appendage. Your watch will give you notifications at a glance and take voice commands, but it’s really just funneling that data back to your phone. Android Auto will bring navigation and music control into your car’s dashboard, but it’s just mirroring the maps and music streams from your phone. Android TV will play movies and search through IMDB, but your phone is the remote control.
All Five Senses (well, 3 out of 5 ain’t bad!)
Our brain doesn’t see or feel or move us directly. It processes a signals from my nose that smell bacon, then sends signals back out to my legs that say “I want to go to there” and I start walking. Likewise, my phone doesn’t track my steps, it’s using a sensor in an Android Wear device to log that info, then relay it back to the phone to make sense of it. Then the phone/brain can say “well, it’s 6PM and you’ve only walked 6,000 steps today, it’s sunny and 75, so grab the dogs and go for a walk.” It sends out a notification that interrupts me browsing Instagram and gets me moving.
We have virtually replicated three of the senses; we have cameras (sight), microphones (sound), and touchscreens (touch). Our phones have sensors for all three, and these appendage devices tend to have at least two.
Input & Output
I got on board the Android train back with the G1, and I remember thinking how powerful this device was, even with that rough first-gen hardware. In the office I was working on a simulator for a $25,000 drone platform for the Marine Corps, but for a couple hundred bucks I had just bought a computer fully integrated with a fast internet connection, location and orientation and acceleration sensors, hi-res E/O sensor (you’d call this a camera), proximity sensor, 2D touch sensor, and keyboard. I could read the signals from all of these sensors, process them however I wanted, then feed signals back out using the display, LED lights, vibration, or sound.
Since then phones have added a few more inputs (fingerprint sensors, heart rate monitors, multiple cameras for 3D). What we saw at I/O was a proliferation of these. Android Wear adds inputs (voice, step counter, wrist motion, heart rate, touch) and outputs (display & vibration on your wrist). Android Auto uses your car’s display and audio system for I/O. Android TV uses your existing TV to add a 50″ display to your smartphone.
Why these new Appendages Matter
Some of these might seem like minor additions (why do I need a display on my wrist when my phone is right in my pocket?), but the power is in the context. If I’m bored in the office, sure, I don’t mind pulling out my phone and reading through a stream. But if I’m driving a car, looking down at my phone is a seriously dangerous distraction. If, instead, I can tell my wrist “OK Google, navigate to my next meeting”, without taking my eyes of the road, we’ve enabled the brains of your smartphone to help in a new context where the smartphone itself can’t get the job done.
This may not be as life-changing as the jump from features phones to smart phones, but it is still an improvement.
Flipping the Network
I once worked in a lab where they wanted any user to be able to sit at any computer and start working. So I was issued a hardware token (think of a smart card, or a USB plug – holding my private key) that I could plug into a computer; it would recognize me, load in my environment and preferences, and I could pick up working wherever I left off. The central brain was in a server room, but I could use whatever computer was in front of me for I/O. With Android, we’re flipping that around. I can still use whatever device is handy for I/O, whether that’s my watch, my TV, my car; but now the central brain is sitting in my pocket with the phone, rather than in a server room.
My point is that these new appendages shouldn’t be viewed on their own. They’re not replacements; you’re not going to get rid of your phone when you get a new watch. Instead, the watch becomes additional input and output for your phone. So don’t think of the watch’s utility as a watch, think of what it can do as extra I/O for your phone.
The recent launch of Neux TeuxDeux has distrupted Tehda’s ability to sync with the server. I am aware of this problem, and I’m working on a solution. I will be updating the app to restore compatibility.
mailVU is a great startup here in Charlotte providing video services for email, and I jumped at the chance to collaborate with them on an Android app. I’m happy to say we’ve launched, and the app is available on Google Play. Or you can check out mailVU’s blog to learn more.
My wife teaches elementary-school math, and I’m somewhat of a math nerd, so the 24 game is right up our alley. Basically, you’re given four numbers, and you have to find a series of operations that makes 24 from those numbers. For example, given 1, 2, 3, and 4, you might respond that 1*2*3*4 = 24. Some sets of numbers are harder than others (much harder).
One day, my wife and her class were having trouble solving a particularly hard set, so she emailed me for help. It took me a while to find the answer, and all the while I was thinking to myself “Self, I’m a programmer. Why am I doing this the hard way?” So now I’ve created the easy (cheater) way. Go to http://jebware.com/24 input your 4 numbers, and it will tell you how to make 24.
That’s what the local news is calling it, at least. I went out yesterday and got some pictures. Keep in mind that I did this about five hours after high tide, so the water had already gone down a little bit from its morning peak.
These folks were trying to tow their minivan out of the water. I took this picture right after their rope snapped.
Police were blocking this street from both directions so that nobody would even try to get through. Which is probably good, because I saw people attempting some pretty stupid things.
Submerged cars. You’ll notice this becomes a theme.
These people were out taking pictures with their dog; I saw one of their pictures later on the local news’ website. I tried taking my dog along for this expedition, but she gave up after two blocks.
This vehicle wasn’t abandoned yet, I think the owner was still sitting in it.
Probably wishing you hadn’t parked your BMW on that particular block.
You want to know what’s sad? So far these pictures aren’t even tidal flooding. They’re just areas that don’t drain.
In the middle of this shot is Smith’s Creek. On the left is a road, Mowbray Arch a.k.a. the Smith’s Creek Annex. This is the only picture in this set with tidal flooding.
Remember that BMW? When I came back by a tow truck was fishing it out. I hear that the waiting list for tow trucks is getting pretty long.
“Neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night”. What you can’t see in these pictures is that it was still raining hard. And the wind was blowing at 50 mph gusts.