Open Writing

Computers have featured in my life since the 1960’s. Back then they were esoteric pieces of machinery, designed mainly for scientific use and, in my case, the control of complex processes like steel mills. In order to apply them one needed to be fluent in computer languages like Fortran and Cobol.

There were no programming macros, which write repetitive instructions with the click of a mouse, such as exist today. The opportunities for mistakes were legion, and many days or even weeks could be spent debugging a recalcitrant machine. Fortunately, the days of such computers were numbered when IBM introduced their smaller, much more nimble machines.

These subsequently earned the generic name of PC, or personal computer, though they weren’t as warm and fuzzy as the name suggests. They ran on a system called DOS, short for Disk Operating System, with a language much more akin to conventional terminology, and one didn’t need a Ph.D. to program them, or to trouble shoot problems.

It was about that time, in the mid 1970’s, that computers ceased to be a part of my life, and I didn’t renew the acquaintance until the 1990’s. DOS was still the operating system, but some packaged programs had been created, particularly for business use. A gentleman by the name of Norton introduced a file management utility that became indispensable, before he moved on to virus protection software.

The computers of those days were anxious to please, and largely obsequious. It was like “Anything you want that is within my power I’ll be pleased to do.” That demeanor continued, more or less, until the advent of “Windows,” Bill Gates’ adaptation of DOS, or more properly MS-DOS, which is an acronym for Microsoft DOS. Windows at that time allowed much more flexibility of use than later.

When I began to use computers again, they were an unequivocal boon to me. I was by then a sales and marketing manager for a company that did business internationally through representative companies and distributers. The level of communications was extreme. Most of the people I corresponded with overseas had only basic English skills, so the wording of my faxes and letters (there was no email yet) needed to be simple and precise.

When word processing programs became available I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. The computer screen was still blue, the type face white, and only in Courier typeface, and there were no graphics, but I could now spell check, cut and paste, resend letters, file, and not have to delve through drawers of paper files to retrieve something. My productivity increased enormously.

It was about that time that I started to detect a change in the attitude of computers, which seemed to become less and less friendly with each iteration of the Windows operating system. In some way they seemed to reflect more the geeky and humorless personality of their creator, Bill Gates.

The first hostile move was to allow installation on only one computer. It was also necessary to enter a string of letters and numbers making up the ID code of the operating system. One miss-step and you were locked out, requiring a phone call to Redmond, Washington, and a long wait.

The ensuing operating system software included graphics of a sort, facilitating the introduction of scolding pop-up messages “You did not close the program correctly. Go to jail. Do not collect $200” etc. As time has passed, and one Windows operating system has succeeded another (I count ten with Windows 7) the computer’s anxiety to please has diminished, and the chiding has increased.

Now, my day on the computer is bedeviled with warnings, commands and castigation. This attitude has spread from Windows to the programs I use for virus protection, word processing and web browsing. Norton, now Symantech, has evolved into a finger-wagging harridan. It, like other so-called security software has become intrusive to the point of rudeness.

Almost hourly I am told that I haven’t backed up my files in a week, that my firewall is turned off leaving me open for all to see on line, and that I need to update my virus definitions. I suppose it’s all very well meaning, but I object to being pushed around like that. Tinkering is all but impossible.

Recently, I replaced my wife’s computer. She likes to file incoming emails on her email program, don’t ask why. She wanted them transferred to the new computer, but try as I might I couldn’t locate them in the file system. When I eventually found them, buried deep under several layers of folders, I was told that Windows couldn’t open them. I didn’t for one minute believe that Windows couldn’t open files that it had created, but had to acquiesce.

The irony of having to deal with intransigent and admonishing computer software is that, if anything, I need it more now than when I was in business. Science fiction has long proposed that eventually we would become slaves to robots. Well, I believe that computers are preparing us for that day right now.
# # #