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Why I¹ve gone back to Mac
http://online.guardian.co.uk/computing/908986249-second.html
SECOND SIGHT Douglas Rushkoff
Why I¹ve gone back to Mac
About two years ago in this space, I made an announcement that
led to more than 1,000 horrified responses from you readers. I¹m
still receiving a trickle of e-mail about it to this day. And all
I had done was explain the reasons why I had traded in my
Macintosh computer for a Windows machine. Now, two years and
three Windows operating systems later, I am finally admitting
defeat.
I understand Windows as well as most technical support personnel.
I can edit a config.sys file and delete bad lines in an
autoexec.bat with the best of them. I can partition a hard drive
in FAT32, manually configure a dial-up adapter, and scour my
Systems folder for obsolete DLLs.
But why would I want to know such things? And what has learning
all this done to me? Worse, why doesn¹t my knowledge of Windows¹
twisted innards bring me any closer to wrestling my system?
In short, my two years in Windows has fundamentally altered my
experience of the computer and of the Internet. A quick look
through my 150 archived columns reveals a distinct souring that
took place just about the time I gave up the elegance of the Mac
for the seeming compatibility of the Windows PC.
I went from writing about ³co-evolution with technology² to
complaining about ³the intentionally disempowering opacity of the
interface². I owe this shift in perspective to Windows.
My reasons for surrendering to Bill Gates were simple: I wanted
to be compatible. I was tired of opening e-mail and files from
Windows users that came through on my Mac as garbled characters.
I hated the fact that my Netscape browser would freeze up at the
first whiff of a Java applet. I began to feel like a stubborn
zealot. The die was cast, and Windows had won. So I acquiesced.
I agreed to turn in my individuality ‹ my preference for the
Bauhaus elegance of the Mac ‹ to comply with the wish of the
majority. Like a Jew converting to Catholicism during the
Inquisition, I figured assimilation was a better option than
continued resistance. Non-compliance just cost too much. I
decided I no longer cared which system I used, as long as someone
promised to make it all work with everything else.
Well, Bill Gates just didn¹t come through. When I became a
subject of the Microsoft Kingdom, the coin of the realm was
undergoing a transition from Windows 3.1 to the Mac-like Windows
95. The new system promised to take care of everything for the
user, from adding and removing programs to automatically
recognising and configuring new hardware.
Unfortunately, Microsoft seemed more concerned with fighting its
browser war with Netscape, its word processing war with
WordPerfect, and its e-mail war with Eudora than with supplying
an integrated system to its customers.
The result of this many-fronted battle was a set of essentially
incompatible suites of programs. Microsoft¹s Outlook division
just didn¹t know what its Office division was doing.
The different battalions of the Windows army each worked to
develop ³ultimate solutions² to computing. The squadron of
programmers writing the operating system created a messaging
system called Exchange; the team building the Outlook suite
wanted to take care of messaging by themselves; and the Explorer
troops used another program called Outlook Express. And none of
them worked properly with Office, or one another.
I hung in there, configuring and reconfiguring my system nightly,
hoping that Windows 98, essentially a bug-fix for Win95, would
deliver the solution I was looking for. It didn¹t.
Instead, it merely immersed me in an even thicker soup of
³user-friendly² installation and configuration utilities,
complete with animated ³paper-clip² characters to taunt me in my
despair.
My new iMac, though far from perfect, actually gives me back some
control over how my computer functions.
Its playful transparent-blue plastic design ‹ bordering on the
silly, in fact ‹ goes a long way towards rehabilitating my sense
of superiority over these machines. Better yet, I can write, send
e-mail, and browse the Web as well as I could five years ago!
Oddly, the Macintosh interface, which once seemed so opaque
compared with the simple Dos commands I had grown up using, now
seems connected to the functioning of my machine ‹ at least in
comparison with the numbing distance imposed by Windows. I can
manually enter a phone number I want my modem to dial, directly
into a little box, without going through all the painstaking
steps required by one of Microsoft¹s ³Wizards².
The Wizard set-up utilities attempt to predict what I¹ll need,
and then meet those assumed expectations by adding international
access numbers or special modem string commands. In the name of
user-friendliness, the software keeps me away from my own
hardware.
Like an all-too formal waiter who won¹t let you apply your own
pepper to your food, the meddling Microsoft utilities most often
get it wrong. The iron-clad interface in which the operating
system is housed prevents even the most advanced users from
getting past these ³helpful² sentries and configuring things
ourselves. In Europe last month, unable to get Windows to
co-operate with my hotel phone system, I was forced to retrieve
my e-mail and even deliver my column through the Palm Pilot.
By trying to outdo the Mac at user-friendliness, Windows sealed
its formerly manipulable system in a shield of automated yet
inoperable configuration agents (much in the manner of a writer
who, living in the Windows world too long, will tend to write
sentences fit only for software manuals.) Those who want to get
at the real guts of their machines have already begun turning to
Linux.
Microsoft is more concerned with fighting wars against its
competitors than providing a workable system for its own
constituency. Expansion of the Empire takes priority over
everything else. As a result, the promise of universal
compatibility is more than outweighed by the totalitarian police
state it requires.
There¹s just no room to ³think different².
© Douglas Rushkoff 1998
22 October 1998
Mitch Stone
mstone@vc.net