Katalepsis

Oh, Microsoft. When will you learn the error of your ways? I’ve often laughed before at Microsoft’s ridiculous operating system licensing policy. For every iteration of Windows, they release the “good” version (Note: I’m using the term “good” as a relative claim here) for an obscene amount of money. Then, they release various “crippled” versions of the OS for decreasing amounts of money, hoping that you’ll upgrade your version to one that finally works.

If only it did finally work once you purchased the “full” version. But that’s another blog post for another day.

On the other hand, compare that with Apple’s OS strategy: produce one major release of an OS and offer it to everyone at a reasonable price. That’s it. It seems like a remarkably effective strategy. Rather than work tirelessly at supporting and updating many crippled versions of an OS, choose instead to work very hard at producing one solid piece of software. Don’t artificially cripple anyone.

When I was still a Windows user, I dreaded having to upgrade the operating system. The apparent “advantages” were never quite apparent; it was expensive; and you knew that it was bound to be plagued with horrible compatibility and stability issues. In fact, I never really upgraded unless I was purchasing a new computer and had few options. But since I’ve switched to the Mac, I install software updates with ease of mind. The features and improvements are apparent. And the price is reasonable. I hear that the next version of Mac OSX, dubbed Snow Leopard, will be released as a $29 upgrade. Remarkable. I’ll buy it in a heartbeat.

I came across this Windows upgrade chart the other day. It is supposed to be a simple way for you to figure out how to upgrade your Windows operating system to Windows 7, Microsoft’s latest effort. Check it out:

Good god! That’s all I can say. Note something about this graph, resembling something like a game of Scrabble. The green squares represent upgrades that will be relatively painless, depending on your setup. The blue squares represents an upgrade that will kill your current setup — requiring you to complete replace your current operating system, including your files, settings, and programs. Yeah.

I’d love to see someone make a corresponding chart for Apple. It would probably look something like this:

Upgrading Your Mac to Snow Leopard

It may lack the “Scrabble-esque” beauty of Microsoft’s table. But you have to admit it has a certain logical beauty all of its own.

When I was a little boy, I looked forward to my father’s copy of Popular Science appearing in our mailbox. I would try to make off with it before my father noticed so that I could pour over its pages without being disturbed. If my father got to it, it was summarily dropped onto a growing stack of magazines that he vowed to “get to” when he had time. This led, inevitably, to his reading stacks of Popular Science whenever we went on vacation, so that he could catch up with the “latest” technology — one year at a time.

I still remember those vacations fondly — waking up early in the morning on a camping trip, finding my Dad dozing and reading magazines in the relative warmth of a blue Volvo station wagon. I would sneak into the car and sit alongside him: reading, mimicking.

Popular Science Cover from February 1983

All of this makes me sad today as I confront the death of Popular Science. No. There has been no official announcement that the magazine is drying up. Of course, we’ve been hearing for months about the end of print media as we know it. The driving factor? Lower subscription rates. But the ultimate deciding factor is ad revenue. When that dries up, there will be no turning back.

No, this death is hitting me on a personal level as I read the latest issue. I’ve been a loyal subscriber for years, but am considering not renewing my subscription for the first time. It’s not that the magazine has changed. It hasn’t. What’s changed is me and how I ingest news and information.

As I scan the “Best of What’s New” section, I see products announced that I can remember reading about on Gadget blogs months ago. The articles, too, appeared long ago on science and technology sites. By the time the paper has rolled off the printing presses, I’m already several clicks down the road.

How can Popular Science (and others) survive in a climate of instant communication? I no longer turn to Popular Science to tell me about the latest and greatest gadgets. I turn to Ars Technica and Engadget. I’ve moved on from the delightful feel of a actual paper in my hands, slowly devouring it page by page, to the incessant click of the spacebar, as I navigate through my RSS feeds one click at a time. I’ve traded in the relative relaxing experience of reading and letting editors find the best of science and technology for the actions of a crazed rat, repeatedly hitting a bar for a food pellet.

I suppose it’s just the march of technology. There are some upsides. If we’re not cutting down all the trees to feed nostalgic forms of print media, we’ll likely all benefit. No matter how much I enjoy the tactile feel of holding a magazine, article, or book in my hand, it does seem titanically wasteful to continue to chop down trees to satisfy this enjoyment. We should probably be working harder on making the eReader experience as enjoyable (and paper-like) as possible. Also, access to information is unparalleled in the internet age. Progress. I consume much more information now. Far less of it is useful, but armed with NewsFire, I’m always on the cutting edge.

But what will I share with my son one day? Will we sit while camping, checking our respective blogrolls on iPhones? Somehow, sharing a link with your son by email doesn’t hold the same significance as passing him the gift of a magazine.