I really wanted to like the Naya Create. It’s an incredibly stylish split keyboard with a lot going for it, offering great customization and a novel shape that’s supposedly sculpted for efficiency and comfort. It’s as if Apple tried its hand at an ergonomic keyboard. But during my testing, I found holes in the design. A lot of them. Even after software updates, extensive troubleshooting, and a second review unit, this keyboard simply didn’t want to work properly.

The Naya Create starts at $500 without any modules. But quite a bit of the keyboard’s functionality relies on the modules, including the batteries for wireless connectivity. For a full kit with two keyboard halves, three interchangeable modules, a USB-C cable, and a hard carrying case, the total package is $825. For something with such a smooth and streamlined, Apple-like design (with an Apple-like price), it really should just work. There are some great ideas here, and the keyboard itself is well built, but the software falls short.

Making the Switch

Photograph: Henri Robbins

Conceptually, this keyboard does a lot of really interesting things. It’s a low-profile split keyboard (the entire keyboard, ignoring the detachable modules, is anywhere from 16 to 19 millimeters thick) with detachable magnetic modules. The split nature allows your hands to be farther apart, reducing shoulder strain. Two hinges on each half allow for the keyboards to be angled when typing, which can reduce wrist strain as well. The switches are hot-swappable, and the keyboard is meant to be extensively programmable using Naya’s built-in software.

However, adapting to the layout is difficult. While the Create maintains the general location of most keys, the actual, precise location of them is very different from a traditional keyboard. Instead of being organized along consistent horizontal rows and a vertical stagger, they are aligned vertically with a horizontal stagger. I found this fairly difficult to adapt to; it feels inconsequential for keys directly above and below your fingers, but gets strange when moving your fingers to press center keys like T, G, and B, or modifier keys like Shift, Alt, and Control—the location is drastically different, especially if you (like me) are someone who presses B with your right index finger instead of your left—an issue prominent enough that many ergonomic keyboards simply include a B key on both halves.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The most drastically different keys are Enter and Backspace, which have been moved from the right side of the keyboard to the thumbs and index fingers. The center keys underneath either module, along with the keys directly above the modules, are Backspace (on the left side) and Enter (on the right). This is the most difficult change to adapt to. Even after a couple of weeks with this layout, I still found myself occasionally forgetting which was which, or reaching my pinky to the top right to press a Backspace key that didn’t exist.

The keyboard can be angled using the hinges to create a more natural typing position, but in my experience, the tradeoff isn’t worth it, since this moves the modules away from your fingers and makes them far less accessible. The typing experience itself is underwhelming. The Ergo uses Kailh Choc switches, an older model of low-profile switches that are exceptionally thin, but have less travel distance than standard low-profile switches. The Choc Red linear switches I tested have a soft, unsatisfying bottom-out and, thanks to the unibody construction of the keyboard, each keystroke resonated through the shell to create subtle pinging noises (meant to be mitigated by noise-dampening foam inside the case, with little success).

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The keycaps were designed from the ground up to fit this layout. Some of them gently curve upward at the corners, while others bend around the edge of the keyboard or are shaped to fit perfectly around the modules. They genuinely make typing more comfortable and help to guide your fingers around the unfamiliar layout.

Despite the issues, there were moments when I would enter what I can only describe as a “flow state” with this strange layout. For a brief time, any confusion or complication would fade away, and I would spit out flawless sentences without a single thought. In those moments, I’d truly understand this layout and feel at home with it. But after a few minutes, I’d snap back to reality by typing an n instead of a b and would feel just as lost as before.

It’s a good layout with potential to be incredibly efficient, but it takes a lot of practice to even be competent with it. Switching back to a regular QWERTY layout for even a few hours would leave me feeling slightly disoriented and sluggish when I went back to the Naya Create.

Moody Modules

The modules are the largest selling point of this keyboard, and they are really cool in theory. Small, hot-swappable devices that can replace your computer mouse and allow for instant swapping between different input methods. It’s a multimedia editor’s dream. While all of these modules worked, I regularly ran into strange and irritating issues with their functionality, all of which seemed to necessitate a standard computer mouse still occupying space on my desk.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The Naya Track trackball was jittery and encountered random bumps during use, making navigation tedious. It also liked to lock into entirely vertical or horizontal movements when trying to move the cursor at a slight angle. Properly using the trackball required setting my system’s mouse pointer speed setting to the lowest possible; otherwise, the trackball would move too far with even the slightest nudge. The ball itself was usable once I had properly adjusted my system settings, but it was still slightly inconsistent.

The trackball has a built-in scroll wheel. Instead of a physical wheel, it is activated by rotating the ball as if it were a knob, which both scrolls and produces a simulated clicking effect using a haptic feedback module similar to a video game controller (or the Logitech MX Master 4). This feature works perfectly when you intend to use it, with convincing haptic feedback and responsive scrolling, but it sadly triggers when you don’t intend to use it, especially when the keyboard is angled.

There were multiple times where I would be moving the cursor, only to suddenly feel the “click-click-click” of scrolling and accidentally move down two paragraphs in the document I was working on. This can be avoided by keeping your finger directly on top of the ball and consistently repositioning, but doing so feels unnatural and tedious. Even if you disable the scrolling, rotating the ball will prevent inputs and initiate the haptic feedback. As much as I like the idea, a dedicated physical scroll knob (like the Kensington Orbit) seems like a much more functional solution.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The Naya Tune knob module is, essentially, a large ring with a small touchpad on top. The knob can be customized to operate either smoothly or with ratcheting clicks, and the touchpad can have different inputs mapped for swipes and taps with one, two, or three fingers. The default for the single-finger is scrolling, which scrolls only once per swipe, which is not very far at all. The wheel’s clicks can be adjusted in strength or disabled entirely. However, it would often take a moment or two for the knob to engage and start registering inputs. The knob frequently lagged or failed to register inputs, only to randomly adjust the volume a few seconds later, an issue that was made slightly better by updating the module but was always present.

The sides of the ring are knurled, but the beveled edge and the top are both entirely smooth. While it’s fairly easy to rotate the knob from the side, it’s difficult to get a grip on the smooth sections, making operation difficult without moving your hand, especially when the keyboard is angled.

Surprisingly, the Naya Touch trackpad functions pretty much flawlessly. However, the absence of dedicated mouse buttons can be a bit frustrating. Functions like dragging and dropping are nearly impossible without remapping other keys to left and right clicks. I also don’t particularly enjoy having to tap a static mousepad instead of clicking with an actual button, since it removes important tactile feedback.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The gesture controls are neat (default is three fingers horizontally to move between tabs, three vertically to change which window is focused, and two fingers to scroll horizontally and vertically), but the scrolling is linked to your system’s scroll wheel settings, which means having your mouse set to scroll more than one line at a time makes scrolling incredibly choppy.

A Long Process

Initially, Naya sent a preproduction unit to me that was offered only to early backers. This unit had countless issues with its functionality. The modules would not connect, the two halves would randomly lose connection, and the USB-C ports on both sides would work intermittently. At one point, one of the halves simply stopped connecting. After informing Naya, the company reiterated that it was a preproduction unit, saying this version was not being shipped to regular buyers and that the issues I saw were addressed in the final production model.

So I gladly agreed to take a look at the final model. This model functioned without any of the glaring issues of the original unit, but instead faced more “normal” issues with the usability of the modules and the functionality of the software.

The customization software, Naya Flow, has quite a few issues. The process for changing any keymaps requires the keyboard to be plugged in and requires you to first save, then flash the new layout, which can be tedious compared to many devices that allow for wireless updates to key mapping. There is not yet a way to check the battery life of the keyboard/modules in the software, instead having to rely on the modules flashing a color (green/yellow/red) that vaguely indicates the battery life.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The RGB lighting has incredibly limited customization with a small number of preset colors and animations, which cannot be adjusted directly in the software. Instead, it can only be adjusted by remapping keys (typically on one of the secondary layers) to specific effects. The default map has specific, individual key combinations mapped to red, green, blue, etc., both making customization tedious and preventing any granular adjustments to colors. This means, if you’re using red switches, you’re stuck with the slightly pink-ish hue of the RGB bouncing off the switches’ red stems. With a more precise RGB color adjustment, you would be able to make the hue slightly cooler to compensate for this.

The software is still in a beta release, so many of these details are likely to change in the future. Naya’s developers specifically told me that battery life will be displayed in the app, and they have other updates planned to improve functionality. However, it’s frustrating that the software isn’t fully functional upon release, and—like anything in the world of software—there’s no way of knowing definitively that these updates will happen. Naya has been updating the software semi-regularly, but I highly caution against buying any product with the promise of future software improvements.

Impressive Build Quality

Despite the technical issues this keyboard faces, the build quality is really impressive. It is a beautiful piece of engineering. The main shell is made using both CNC machining and aluminum extrusion, which allows for a seamless center section that looks refined and striking. The hinges are rigid and maintain their angle easily, and the modules magnetically snap into place with a satisfying click. The RGB lighting is bright and generally color-accurate (although the red stems of the low-profile switches can tint the underside of the keycaps), and the bespoke keycaps all look and feel fantastic, being reasonably thick and having a comfortable matte texture.

This keyboard was not designed with repairability in mind. To access the center section’s printed circuit board (PCB), you need to remove a dozen screws, remove a panel, disconnect two ribbon cables, and gently slide the PCB out from the side of the housing, all of which is done within the confines of an ultra-thin shell. The ribbon cables are held in place with both standard locking mechanisms and adhesive pads, which troubles the entire process by introducing dried adhesive gunk to nearly every internal connection.

Photograph: Henri Robbins

The strangest design choice is the batteries. Instead of being housed in the keyboard, the primary batteries are kept inside the detachable modules. This is obviously done to maintain the thinness of the keyboard, but it creates problems. There is a chance that the modules will fail to power the keyboard, which will then create issues with the keyboard not charging properly—a problem that can then be exacerbated by the inconsistent functionality of the Y-shaped USB-C cable included with the keyboard. This is one of the issues I faced with the preproduction unit, but I didn’t encounter a problem with the production version.

The Naya Create feels comparable to the decisions Apple made with the Magic Mouse, which was stylish with practical swipe controls but fell short due to strange choices, like the charging port on the underside and the complete lack of ergonomics. But at least Apple’s hardware “just worked”; the Naya required a lot of troubleshooting to get everything even somewhat functional. In the end, it just feels unfinished. I can’t recommend spending close to $1,000 for a keyboard with so many issues, but I’m interested to see what Naya churns out in the future. There’s a lot of potential in this design that I hope can be realized with its next keyboard.