What It’s Like to Use an Apple Vision Pro
Apple’s cumbersome transition between products and experiences
Paramount to the Apple Store experience has always been approachability. Since the days of the G3 iMac, the stores in which the goliathan company sells its products have exuded an enticing sort of futurism. But in the all-white, open-concept design, it’s felt from the early days like a future welcoming you in with open arms. The storefronts glow like beacons along the city blocks and inside the shopping malls in which they’re housed.
With a cavalier stroll into the Apple store of my local shopping mall, prospective customers and gawking techies are greeted by an array of products to parse at their leisure. Whether an iMac, iPad, Watch, or pair of headphones, there’s little that the public can’t explore on a casual walk-in.
However, using the Apple Vision Pro isn’t as simple as perusing the store and placing one on your head. Though the headsets sit on stands and are plainly visible from the moment you enter, having the full VR experience demands a little more patience. Being a machine that retails for a whopping $3,500 (before tax), perhaps it’s no surprise that using one isn’t quite as straightforward as their more consumer-oriented lines of products.
While Apple is preparing for a future in which the Vision Pro is a ubiquitous facet of public life, few would call this current iteration a product for consumers. But even while it’s more akin to a luxury item than anything the company’s released before it, the staple familiarity is there. For anyone putting on the headset, there will be no denying that it’s an Apple product.
Noticing an unoccupied Vision Pro at the storefront, I walk toward it. Sitting lavishly atop its stand, I’m shocked to find this newly-launched device unguarded. After a couple of guidance-seeking glances from side to side and a shrug, I try to lightly pry the store-colored machine from its stand. But it doesn’t budge.
Before I can even attempt a second stab at removing the used car-priced contraption from its pedestal, I’m surprised to turn and see a smiley-faced Apple Genius. Where she was a few seconds prior, I’m unsure. Teleportation, however, is a known trick within the Apple Genius arsenal.
But this Genius appears confined to the task of keeping a watchful eye on whoever approaches the headsets. She stands at her post, a sleeper agent that springs to life whenever an unseen sensor is triggered.
After a perfunctory exchange of pleasantries, she informs me that the only way to use the Vision Pro myself is to make an appointment. And with that, I schedule myself for a 5 PM slot.
A mere fifteen minutes later, my allotted appointment time arrives. I’m ushered toward a table and given a brief rundown of the headset’s controls by a new Genius.
“So with these headsets — ” I begin to ask.
“Spatial Computers,” she corrects me with an unfazed grin.
These gentle course corrections are a recurrent feature of our brief time together. Each time I refer to it as something other than a “Spatial Computer,” the attendant gives me a light verbal nudge to call it by its true name.
At 5:07, the not-headset is brought out on the Apple equivalent of a silver platter. Encased within a large, pristine white box, it’s clear that the device is dressed to impress. With a selection of their most Appley accoutrements beside it, the company’s “next big thing” certainly looks the part.
I place it on my head, see a familiar Apple logo and a familiar screen full of apps. As the majesty of our strange new future begins to set in, it’s abruptly halted and yanked away.
“Whoops. Looks like it wasn’t properly reset after the last demo… one moment,” explains the kindly Apple Genius. I take off the definitely-not-a-headset and watch for an anti-climactic few minutes as she re-readies the unit. The second time around, my virtual voyage is off to duly surreal sailing.
The first thing I’m instructed to do is click on the photo app. I scroll through a predetermined selection of photos, videos, and panoramic shots. And in each new one that I click on… I feel like I’m there. Immersed in the environment.
I’m in a desiccated valley made of volcanic stone. Standing on the sandy beach of a tropical island getaway. Watching a beautiful butterfly hone in on my hand and land meekly along the tip of my pointer finger.
I’m celebrating a birthday party with smiling, laughing kids. I feel like I’m inhabiting memories that belong to someone else.
But “like” is the active word. Being placed into these photos and “spatial videos” isn’t quite enough to believe I’m really there. With the weight of the machine pressed against my forehead, there’s no ignoring that it’s a product providing this experience. In the industry of VR, though, no headset has come closer to allowing users to forget about the world around them, and that’s no small achievement. The visual fidelity it offers is leagues above its competitors.
With a knob on the exterior, I can both increase and reduce the immersiveness of my environment. The feature is implemented with an Apple-like ingenuity. Turning the dial in one direction vivifies my virtual world. Turning it the other way brings me back to reality.
As I dial down the immersion, I suddenly see a new Apple Genius in front of me. He’s got a friendly face, a light stubble, and an Apple shirt. Seeing him manifested inside this e-plane, I can’t quite tell whether he’s real or an eerily convincing avatar.
“Hey! Didn’t know how far into the presentation you were and didn’t want to interrupt you,” he explains with a warmth that reeks slightly of silicon. I’m about 60% sure he’s not real. I’m torn between attempting to respond and reaching out a hand to touch his robotic face. “I saw you wearing that Katamari Damacy shirt, and I just had to say something! That’s gotta be the coolest Katamari shirt I’ve ever seen,” he proceeds.
And I realize suddenly that it’s a real man and fellow odd video game enthusiast I’m talking to. “Th — thank you so much!” I reply, clumsily recalling my choice of real-world attire.
“One of my all-time favorite games! Anyway, enjoy the rest of your experience,” he says before continuing along his way. The brief interruption is oddly psychedelic. My sense of reality is more tenuous than in the midst of a mushroom trip. I take a moment to regain my virtual bearings.
The Apple Genius proceeds to guide me through the basic ecosystem of the product — how to reduce and enlarge screens, multi-task between apps, and place windows in the room around me. Merely moving between them feels like a brave new world knocking at my door. I have a little more fun simply tossing around virtual windows than I should. I can feel the attendant’s patience beginning to dwindle. Once I’m done hurling around applications like a moron only others can see, she resumes the demo.
As I watch life-sized dinosaurs battle it out on a desolate, volcanic landscape, a couple of ten-year-olds wander toward the table and into frame.
“Woah!!! Can we try? Can we try!?”
Thankful for the privacy this helmet offers, I dial up the immersion and watch the children devolve into disembodied voices. As I continue twisting the dial, I watch them disincorporate. Seconds later, they’ve vanished into a Black Mirror-esque oblivion.
“Can we try? Can we? Can we?”
I can no longer see whether these questions are directed toward me, but I revel in the virtual barrier between us. The attendant tries her best to remain focused on the presentation she’s giving me.
“That’s so cool!! Can we try?” they continue.
Their badgering persists until the attendant has no choice but to address them.
“Sorry, I’m in the middle of giving him a presentation. And you need to be 13 years old to qualify for the demo…” she explains with wearing patience.
“Damn!” they reply in unison, walking away from the table in disappointment. At least it sounds that way.
“Did they just curse? Tiny humans these days…” she remarks under her breath, subtly breaking character.
It’s at around this point that I begin struggling with a headache. Whether this is because I’ve put the device on my head too tightly for comfort, because the unwieldy machine is beginning to weigh on me, or because I’m growing disoriented is unclear. But with the best apparently saved for last, I’m resolved to continue with the show.
I’m flying like a drone over beautiful vistas and shimmering oceans. I’m in the savannah beside its fully life-sized dwellers. I’m in a prehistoric landscape watching dinosaurs brawl. I’m on top of a snow-covered peak watching courageous climbers brave its blustery blows.
“It’s like you’re really there,” explains a hovering voice that’s equal parts ethereal and transactional. “With a searing headache,” I silently salt on top. As the headache nears migraine territory, the mesmerism of the moment begins to slip slowly out of the portal. By the time I can bear no more, I’m revisited by that familiar Apple logo marking the presentation’s end.
“Phew.”
Taking off my headset again, I’m relieved to be in the real world. But welcoming me back into reality is the crushing pressure of a bustling public. People look toward me like the guinea pig that I am. At first, I assume it’s envy in their eyes. A moment later, though, I realize their stares are tinged with a certain pity.
A cursory glance in the mirror reveals a raw headband of red wrapped around my entire forehead beneath a disheveled head of hair. My Apple attendant leaves me to learn this for myself. Whether this is common courtesy, for financial reasons, or a product of sheer guilt, I can only guess.
The landing strip atop my face does little to sell bystanders on the virtual world Apple’s selling. The few who’d been watching my presentation from afar with curious, captivated eyes promptly decide against getting a tutorial of their own. A 60-year-old woman beside me looks toward me with a series of ill-concealed glowers of judgment. I return her judgemental glares with an unassuming smirk and watch her quickly turn her head away.
“doesn’t she know it’s impolite to stare at people beta-testing the future?”
In many regards, The Apple Vision Pro isn’t what people had hoped. The complaint that the product feels more like a tech demo of the future than a presently useful tool is accurate. In my short time with it, the hiccups and kinks were noticeable. On a couple of occasions, apps needed to be restarted entirely.
While in some areas, the headset soars above the competition, in others, it lags behind them noticeably. It doesn’t have the diversity of games and activities that companies more established in the VR world have managed to develop. It doesn’t have “that killer app.”
Only a couple weeks after its launch, Apple has already made headlines for the droves of people eager to return the product. But as with Mark Zuckerberg and the Metaverse, it’s a safe bet that Apple will sooner double down on the technology before allowing its future to go belly up.
With the prevalence of iPhones today, it’s easy to forget how many drawbacks hampered its first few iterations. That it even offered enough to beat out the Blackberry was something many reviewers doubted in those early years.
For the Apple Vision Pro to be an unmitigated success wasn’t something that many expected. It was a near-given that this first generation would fight an uphill battle.
Apple didn’t think that these headsets would change the world overnight. It’s these gradual and casual initiations to a land of VR and AR (augmented reality) on which Apple is depending. It wants to lay the groundwork for the future in which these VR headsets are cheaper, lighter, comfier, and more innovative than they are today.
The reality remains that most consumers are unwilling to fork over the kind of money Apple is asking for the product as it stands now. As it improves incrementally, though, it’s almost certain that it will become a greater and greater fixture of modern life. It’s already begun to usher in a fresh batch of philosophical questions about the dystopian world we’re pioneering: How will VR toe the line between digital surveillance and personal privacy? Will the virtual world diminish our grasp on real-world experiences and connections? Will this technology wholly reshape life on earth?
But it seems that for most of us, these still aren’t matters we’ll need to grapple with for a few more years. There’s no denying that the Vision Pro offers a glimpse into the future. But that future is a can the world will be happy to kick down the road for a little while longer.
I have a Meta Quest 3 (MQ3), and acquired it before I had fully explored the many apps it offered on MQ2, because I always want the 'new' stuff. I don't use it except for the massive exercise library if offers, and it encouraged me to exercise every day listening to sets of those thousands of available tunes. I did 'ride' on their virtual roller coasters, and, if you go for the bad boys get ready to pucker, because they are almost like the real ones. They are so 'real' a side effect of one or two was nausea. I mentioned the other apps, many of which are video games, which I've never been very good at. As I mentioned there are lots of others, like meditation apps, which are great, etc. The 3D in the third version is head and shoulders better than in MQ2. Bottom line: I am very happy with this VR rig. The scenics are fantastic, and I'm looking forward to the next iteration. At some point I suppose I need to sell my MQ2 first. Thanks for the article on Apple's VR. I'm an Apple guy, but I can wait until the prices come down significantly before I buy one. From what you write Apple should have waited to offer it to the public.