The Controller: Microsoft Kinect Ships

There is a controller shipped this week, and the controller is none at all: the Kinect that Microsoft put on sale for the Xbox 360 on Thursday, the hands-free motion controller that needs no controller, the camera that watches the whole body and answers to a wave. The controller is the story: the launch across North America, the reported half a billion dollar marketing campaign behind it, the gesture that the living room has been waiting for.

The Controller is the subject of this article: what Microsoft launched on Thursday, how the camera sees the body, why the controller disappeared, and what the gesture era will mean.

1. The Launch on Thursday

The launch is the news, and the news is the Thursday: the November 4 release of Kinect for Xbox 360 across North America, the price of $149.99, the game that came bundled, the motion controller that needs no controller at all. The launch is the report: the camera plus depth sensor plus microphone array that tracks your whole body, the shelves that were stocked, the long lines that formed, the sell-outs that were reported by Friday morning.

The launch is also the campaign: the reported half a billion dollars that Microsoft spent to tell the world, the television spots and the demos and the mall tours, the message that the controller era was ending. The launch is the November 2010 context: the holiday season that was about to begin, the console that was the number two in the world, the bet that was now on shelves, the question that would be answered by the cash registers. The launch on Thursday was the beginning, and the beginning was the gesture: the motion that would be watched, the controller that would be tested, the living room that would be changed.

2. The Camera

The camera is the technology, and the technology is the depth: the PrimeSense sensor that projects infrared light, that measures the distance of everything in the room, that builds a three dimensional picture of the space in real time. The camera is the seeing: the skeleton that it finds in the dark, the 20 joints that it tracks, the body that becomes the input, the player who is recognized without a button.

The camera is also the ears: the microphone array that hears the voice, the commands that are spoken, the login that happens by face, the player who walks into the room and is known. The camera is the engineering feat: the real time 3D body tracking that runs on a game console, the math that was once confined to research labs, the magic that now ships for $149.99. The camera was the heart, and the heart was the promise: the machine that sees you, the game that watches your body, the interface that needs nothing but motion.

3. The Controller

The controller is the absence, and the absence is the point: no joystick, no buttons, no wand, nothing to hold, nothing to lose under the couch. The controller is the body: the arm that swings, the leg that kicks, the jump that is measured, the dance that is graded, the whole self that becomes the input device. The controller is the change: the forty years of pads and sticks and triggers, the habits that gamers learned, the interface that is suddenly gone.

The controller is also the comparison: the Wii that waved a wand since 2006, the motion that took over the casual living room, the game that Microsoft decided to beat at its own game. The controller is the answer: the wand that was still a controller, the Kinect that is none at all, the hands that are finally free, the step beyond that the industry had promised and never delivered. The controller was the bet, and the bet was the body: the whole person as the interface, the living room as the arcade, the gesture as the command.

4. The Engineering

The engineering is the story, and the story is the code name: Project Natal, the secret that was shown at E3 in 2009, the demo that made the industry stop, the promise that took eighteen months to ship. The engineering is the feat: the infrared projector and the sensor that read the depth of the room, the software that found the skeleton in the noise, the 20 joints that moved as you moved, the delay that was barely perceptible.

The engineering is also the difficulty: the body tracking that must work in any living room, on any couch, in any light, with any body; the games that must read intention from motion; the difference between a wave and a punch. The engineering is the validation: the research that became a product, the lab that became a launch, the science that the whole family could play. The engineering was the miracle, and the miracle was the demo: the child who jumped, the avatar who jumped, the room that believed.

5. The Living Room

The living room is the battlefield, and the battlefield is the console: the Xbox 360 that sits in the number two spot, behind the Wii and ahead of the PlayStation 3, the machine that Microsoft has pushed for five years. The living room is the war: the Wii that won the casual audience with motion, the grandmothers and the children and the parties, the audience that Microsoft could not reach with a pad in hand. The living room is the opening: the Kinect that costs $149.99, more than the console itself at $199, the price that says this is the product.

The living room is also the strategy: the machine that becomes the center of the home, the entertainment that flows through one box, the games and the video and the music that Microsoft wants to own. The living room is the bet: the half a billion dollar campaign, the casual players who must be convinced, the holiday season that will judge, the audience that the industry has chased since the Wii. The living room was the prize, and the prize was the family: the parents who will dance, the children who will jump, the screen that everyone watches.

6. The Reception

The reception is the lines, and the lines are the proof: the queues across North America, the sell-outs that were reported by Friday, the stores that could not keep the boxes on the shelves. The reception is the reviewers: the critics who were impressed by the technology, who called the tracking a marvel, who then shrugged at the games, the launch titles that were casual, the adventures and the fitness discs that were pleasant and thin.

The reception is also the comparisons: the Minority Report scene that every writer reached for, the screen that you command with a wave, the future that suddenly arrived on a Thursday. The reception is the demo effect: the Kinect Adventures that made people move, the parents who laughed, the fitness that sold itself, the machine that was bought for the experience of being seen. The reception was the first days, and the first days were the promise: the technology that impressed, the games that will come, the motion that has begun.

7. The Bet

The bet is the money, and the money is the campaign: the reported half a billion dollars that Microsoft spent to launch the controller, the biggest product push of the season, the sum that said this is not a peripheral. The bet is the audience: the casual players who bought the Wii, the families who stopped buying games, the millions who must be won back to the living room screen. The bet is the math: the $149.99 price, the console that costs less, the software and the accessories and the subscriptions that follow.

The bet is also the risk: the technology that had to work in a million living rooms, the games that had to be good enough, the holiday that would decide, the Microsoft that has chased the living room for a decade and wants to win it now. The bet is the conviction: the engineers who built the depth camera, the executives who funded the campaign, the company that bet its holiday on a controller that no one holds. The bet was the moment, and the moment was the season: the gesture era that begins now, the sales that will be counted, the living room that will be won.

8. The Lesson

The lesson is the interface, and the interface is the change: the forty years of buttons that are giving way, the controller that disappears, the body that becomes the command, the machine that sees you. The lesson is the gesture: the wave that will be remembered, the jump that will be measured, the motion that will be copied, the era that starts with this launch. The lesson is the phrase: the controller is dead, the sentence that will be argued, the claim that will be tested, the direction that the whole industry will follow.

The lesson is also the beginning: the Kinect that shipped on Thursday, the camera that sees the body, the bet that the living room will never be the same. The lesson is the November 2010 story, and the story is the lesson: the launch on Thursday, the depth camera, the controller that became none at all, the gesture that became the interface. The Controller is the beginning, and the beginning is the decade: the machines that will watch us, the screens that will answer our hands, the motion that will define the years ahead.

# The Controller: Microsoft Kinect Ships