Morse code isn't as hard as it looks — and five years of a public morse game told us about teaching access methods
Morse code has a reputation. It looks complicated, nerdy maybe - a wall of dots and dashes, something from wartime thrillers and ham radio basements. In assistive technology that reputation is a problem — because Morse is genuinely useful for people who can’t use a keyboard but can manage a single switch. Yet it gets screened out early, on the assumption that it’s simply too hard to learn - or/and its old and surely new things are better right?
The truth is though - if you are blind, have limited physical dexterity and need to write there are few solutions which are really very efficient. So lets look at the data for Morse Code to see if the myths stack up.
Five years of data. From morse-learn, a free, no-login browser game that teaches Morse a letter at a time and quietly records how people do. Nearly 700,000 records from around 35,000 anonymous users. The full paper is out in Disability and Rehabilitation: Assistive Technology. Yay!
The headline — and I want to be careful with it — is that first impressions of complexity are a poor guide to how learnable something really is.
Where this game came from
The game we built on was Google’s Morse Typing Trainer for Gboard, made in 2018 with Tania Finlayson — herself a Morse user with cerebral palsy — with Use All Five and the Google Creative Lab, as part of Google’s broader effort to bring Morse to accessible communication. It was a lovely cute thing: a browser game, built in Phaser.js, that taught the alphabet a letter at a time. And it was fun!
It loooked lurvely but it was built around visual cues (actually visual mnemoics ie pictures that would draw out the dot and dash)and dot-dash patterns on screen. That’s fine if you can see. It’s not fine if you can’t. We had been finding at the Ace Centre that really the ideal group was those who were losing their vision but had dexterity to control two to three switches. So the visual cues were not that helpful.
Around the same time I’d watched a VSauce video on how people learn Morse, and it sent me down a rabbit hole. I found an BJOT paper by Jarus (1994) comparing visual, auditory, and combined methods for teaching Morse — and it got me thinking: what if you built a version that worked for someone who was blind? What if we took Tal Jarus' paper and do it again with a modern UI and this game engine. So we did — and we built all three channels in: visual mnemonics, auditory mnemonics, and tones. Jarus had asked the same basic question — visual, auditory, or combined? — and we wanted to test it at a scale a clinical study never could.
We had a need too - we were working with Mike at the time. Mike was literate had very limited vision, and he wanted to write very efficiently. We (Gavin Henderson and I) forked Google’s game and began adapting it with him. Mike shaped the auditory and visual mnemonics that meant something to him (eg you’ll find “Like Mike”). If you play it today and hear a spoken mnemonic, that’s because Mike helped work out what actually clicked for him. We brought in a voice artist, Matthew Wade, to record them properly, and an illustrator to turn the mnemonics into a set of printable Hello Morse poster cards. You can see the full set of mnemonics written out on Ace Centre’s Morse project page.
Mike sadly passed away before the paper got published. This paper — and the game behind it — owes him more than a footnote. He was a collaborator on this project. We’re grateful to him and to his family.
What we didn’t plan for was that putting the game on the open web — free, no login — meant it reached tens of thousands of people, nearly all of them sighted. So the cue data you’ll see below is mostly from sighted users, not the visually impaired users we originally built for. That’s a real limitation — but it’s also the only reason we have enough people to compare cue channels at all. And the thing we built for Mike — sound — turns out to matter in a way we didn’t expect.
How long, for those who stick with it?
The game is public and free, and with no login so a lot of traffic is curiosity (or possibly bots) — just over half of recorded users show zero progress. They land, they look, they leave. The interesting question isn’t about them. It’s about the people who stayed: how long did it actually take?
Among user-cue sessions where learners made substantial progress, the median estimated time to full-alphabet recognition was 55.6 minutes — about 0.47 characters per minute. That is hours, not the months people often assume. Toggle the threshold and you’ll see the headline barely moves: whether you require 50%, 70%, 80%, or 90% progress gain, the median stays around 55 minutes. It doesn’t mean everyone finishes in an hour, and it doesn’t mean they’re fluent. (Sidenote - we had done this paper earlier - our earlier data suggested a shorter median time BUT we had to trash the data as we found the data a bit unreliable..). It means the prerequisite — recognising all 26 letters — is within reach for engaged learners far faster than the “Morse is impossible” intuition predicts.
When someone is being assessed for a switch-access method, the relevant question isn’t “does Morse look hard on first exposure?” It’s “can this person get to useful recognition quickly enough to justify a trial?”
The surprising part: cues shouldn’t be static
This is where it gets interesting, and it’s worth playing with. The game offers three optional cues — visual (the mnemonic illustrations Mike helped shape, with the dot-dash pattern shown alongside them), speech (the auditory mnemonics), and sound (a Morse tone). Users can switch them on or off independently.
Toggle the cues below and watch what happens to predicted accuracy across the 26-letter teaching sequence.
Did you notice it? Visual cues give a big boost on the early letters — but that advantage fades and then reverses as you move through the alphabet. Sound cues do the opposite: almost no help at the start, increasingly valuable later on. The two lines cross somewhere around letter U (position 13 in the teaching order). (NOTE - it is possible people can SWITCH their cues - but we do adjust for this. So dont get confused - this data above isnt people switching their cues - its just from looking at the learning effect of each cue)
So whats going on here? We early on, you’re still mapping shapes to letters, so seeing the dot-dash pattern helps. Later, we think you’ve internalised the rhythm, and hearing the tone becomes the faster channel for the longer, trickier sequences. It’s a scaffolding-fade pattern: the support that helps a beginner can become a crutch that holds back a more experienced learner.
The design implication is that cueing probably shouldn’t be a fixed setting. An ideal system might start you on visual cues, then fade them and bring in sound as you progress. Maybe. Its a strong hypothesis from our data rather than a proven fact.
Why the late letters bite
Some letters are just harder. Hover over the chart below to see each letter’s pattern and how it fares.
The usual suspects — J, Q, W, Y, Z — sit at the bottom. Mostly that’s because they’re four-element sequences (more to hold in working memory), and because several overlap confusingly with other letters: W (.--) is a prefix of J (.---), so a slightly truncated rhythm maps onto two candidates. But there’s a second reason that’s less about the letters themselves: they’re taught last. By the time you reach them, you’ve either given up or you’re a persistent learner — so difficulty is tangled up with where a letter falls in the sequence, not just its shape.
What this means for how we design
A few things I’m taking away, beyond Morse itself:
Onboarding and teaching should be part of a AT product. We spend enormous effort on the interface and comparatively little on how someone is brought into it. The game works not because it’s flashy but because it introduces one letter at a time, (and the easiest/shortest in working memory first) gives immediate feedback, and lets people practise in short bursts. It moves it from a “this looks impossible” and “oh, I can do this” relatively quickly. Note too - there is something about NOT having to rely on a specialist sitting by you to do this with you. We are normalised now to game play - its the same thing.
Don’t screen out on first impression. If a method looks complex but has a high payoff and a short-ish learning curve, the difficulty you perceive on first encounter may say more about the teaching than the learner. Morse, Dasher, and novel UI access systems — all get ruled out too early for this reason.
Make support fadeable. Whether it’s cues, hints, or scaffolds, the help that gets someone started is rarely the help that gets them fluent. Build systems where support can adapt and withdraw as competence grows. This is where Self-Determination Theory earns its keep: one of its three core needs is competence — the satisfaction that comes from mastering something yourself. Hold their hand too long and you rob people of that feeling; pull it away too soon and you strand them. The cues have to fade at roughly the pace the learner grows, so the sense of “I did that” survives.
How you actually use Morse to communicate
Ok - great. We can teach it. How do you use this thing? For that, we made morAce — an open-source device that takes one or two switch presses, interprets them as Morse, and sends them as keystrokes and mouse movements over Bluetooth to any phone, tablet, or computer. NB if you cant use that - look at MorseWriter - a Windows application to help you to integrate morse as a access solution. (Also of course - dont forget about other solutions like the excellent TandemMaster ). And if you just want to try Morse on your phone, Gboard has Morse input built in — no extra hardware or software at all.
Thanks
This work rests on a lot of people. Mike and his family — the mnemonics in this game were largely his. Thanks to Tania Finlayson and the Google Creative Lab for open-sourcing the original trainer that started all of this, to Matthew Wade for voicing the mnemonics, and to the illustrator who brought the Hello Morse cards to life. Thanks to everyone who played the game over the years and left a trace of data, often while learning something themselves.
The game is still live at morse-learn.acecentre.net and still collecting data, so there may be a follow-up in another few years.
With thanks to co-authors Aleesha Hamid who helped shape the paper, Charisse Holder who gave it all a good read over for accuracy and quality, Gavin Henderson who did the original maths and code hacks, and to Ace Centre for supporting the work. In particular the OT’s who did do a lot of testing of this; Sam, Kezia notably - and the various OT students we had over the running of this that I bored to death with about Morse code..

