Augmented Reality as a Healing Tool.

For someone who's worked on a fair number of augmented reality applications, I must admit: I've never truly liked AR. 

The current hardware, form factors, etc. are cumbersome. Community emphasis generally leans too hard on visual enhancement. Utility is often limited. 

And yet I keep coming back to AR. In this case, an unplanned hallway conversation about the history and sales footprint of the Band-Aid brand led to one of the most emotional experiences I've had the pleasure of bringing to life: Band-Aid Magic Vision. 

Band-Aid is one of the most powerful brands in the world, but not always in the ways that you'd expect.

For more than 90 years, the ritual of applying a Band-Aid to a child's first boo boo (or second or third or...) has been a foundational bonding moment for parent and child. A moment of healing. Of safeguarding. 

The brand also sells more than four billion bandages every year, which in context is staggering. That's more than the total number of smartphones, gaming consoles, cable boxes combined. (A bandage is a lot cheaper than hardware, yeah.) 

By rethinking Band-Aid's future as not just thin plastic, but rather, as a media platform - and coupling that vision with that magic moment, I came back to employing technology I've come to, well, not despise, but to feel... meh about.

In this case, though, something felt different. AR made sense.

Sharing mobile technology is a common behavior amongst parents and their children. And the fact that you'd have two people already bonding over the application of a bandage means you could avoid the typical, clumsy, 'hold your device up while trying to be aware of your surroundings'  use case. One could set up the experience for the other - and together they could share in it.

So we made Band-Aid Magic Vision. A baby step towards a brand's eventual migration to media platform. And a rekindler of faith in AR, for me, anyway.