TriumphAnt

Googlegooglegoogle…

“Define ‘Luddite’”

“Luddite: ‘one of the 19th century English workmen who destroyed labour-saving machinery that they thought would cause unemployment’.”

OK, That’s probably way too strong.

“Luddite: ‘a person opposed in principle to technological change’.”

Hmmm… Even “opposed” is a bit over the top. (Hey, I’m a blogger, dammit! How “opposed” to technological change can I be?)

But a recent conversation with a co-commuter has left me thinking that if “technological change” and I are not “opposed” in our relationship, we certainly are not cordial and, in truth, are probably barely on speaking terms at best. As we were waiting for the bus to appear (the co-commuter and I; not “technological change” and I), she mentioned an item that, coincidentally, I had also read in the previous day’s newspaper – this one:

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OTTAWA -- Enterprising salesmen think they've found the next big thing in school fundraising -- the bank machine.

The $1.25 service fee is an irritant for ATM users, but the revenue can also help cash-strapped principals pay for school activities. Independently operated bank machines in schools have already taken off in the United States, and they've started popping up in Canadian schools.

At Esquimalt High School just outside Victoria, the parent advisory council splits the service fees with the local operator of the bank machine, and invests the revenue back into the school. In Brandon, Man., the student council at Crocus Plains High School asked for the ATM and it gets to decide how to spend the school's portion of the service fees.

"It's been a really nifty addition to our school," said Crocus Plains principal Barry Gooden.

Salesmen keen to expand automated-teller machines beyond convenience stores and bars and into high schools are trying out this pitch on school officials.

"It is a good way to create revenue, especially if you have a really large school district," said Jeff Stewart. Earlier this fall, the sales associate for Cashline AMB Inc. in the Lower Mainland offered a deal to the Surrey school board to pilot test Cashline machines in the high schools. (Vancouver Sun, November 15)

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It took a mere sentence or two of shared reaction to discover that we both clearly were wondering the same thing: Why in hell do schools need ATMs? After all, how much cash does a typical school student need to hit up the vending machines a couple times a week, even daily, or, at most, the cafeteria for lunch? (And as an aside, should we be concerned about the education level of our school principals when the best they can produce in the way of expostulation is that the machine is a “really nifty addition to our school”?)

Anyway, from there, we took to musing (both of us, I should add, are parents – in my case of an offspring just launched into teenager-hood) about the recent breathtaking advances in cellphone technology and ended with a headscratching series of questions about just how many functions do you need built into a device that began life as a portable telephone and is presently a fraction of the size of what used to be a 50-cent chocolate bar. Here for example, is a list of “features” from a model of cellphone randomly found online (take a deep breath if you’re reading this out loud):

“Built-in Digital Camera - Shoot digital pictures with the built-in VGA camera (640x480 pixels) with auto-focus lens and zoom capability. Instantly capture pictures with your choice of high, medium, or low resolution; Sprint PCS Picture MailSM Capable - With Sprint PCS Picture Mail, you can take a picture anytime and send it to family and friends instantly while on the enhanced Sprint Nationwide PCS Network. You can attach a 10-second voice message and text message to your picture. Easily save your pictures on your Sprint PCS® Phone or store them online; Picture Enhancement Options - Personalize your pictures with a fun frame (five to choose from), use digital zoom, take up to eight multiple shots, or use the self-timer; Sprint PCS Ready LinkSM Capable - Now you can enjoy the convenience of quick, walkie-talkie style communication at the touch of a button with one or several Sprint PCS Ready LinkSM users anywhere you go on the most complete, all-digital, wireless network in the nation; SMS Text Messaging Capable - Send, receive, and reply to text messages instantly with an SMS-capable Sprint PCS Phone across the room or across the country while on the enhanced Sprint Nationwide PCS Network; Vibrant Full-Color Screen - Vivid 1.8" main and 1" external color sub LCD; both are TFT and support 65k colors; Customizable Photo Caller ID - Know who's calling you by linking downloaded images and photos to the contacts in your internal phone book; Built-in Speakerphone - Hands-free operation of your phone, open or closed, is made easy with the built-in speakerphone; Voice-Activated Dialing - Say the name of the person you want to call and the number is dialed automatically without using the keypad; Enhanced Ring Tones - Personalize your Sprint PCS Phone with eight festive melody ringers in 32-chord polyphonic sound; Two Internal Phone Books - Store up to 300 entries, each storing seven numbers for a total of 500 numbers and up to 300 email and Web addresses. Separate Sprint PCS Ready Link Phone Book provides easy access to 200 personal contacts and 200 company-provided contacts; Personal Alarm - Features an alarm clock that alerts you one time or daily. Just set the alarm—it's that simple; Multiple Languages - Supports English and limited Spanish text prompts; 2.5mm Universal Jack - Accommodates most standard headsets for hands-free operation; E911 Emergency Location Capable - Features an embedded Global Positioning System (GPS) chip necessary for utilizing the E911 emergency location services, where available; TTY Compatible - Compatible with select TTY devices.”

This is a phone, fergawdssake!

Leaving aside the fact that I’ve only ever know a “TTY device” as a teletype machine, some of that stuff honestly creeps me out:

-- “Know who's calling you by linking downloaded images and photos to the contacts in your internal phone book” Didn’t we used to come to know who was calling us by picking up the receiver and saying, “Hello”?;

-- “Eight festive melody ringers in 32-chord polyphonic sound” Oh yes, doesn’t it just do wonders for your appreciation of classical music to walk along a busy urban sidewalk and, from the pocket of one of the nameless strangers passing you by, hear Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” reduced to a couple dozen cheerless chirping electronic tones? (OK, hands up. How many among us have ever got halfway up off our chairs to answer the microwave? Only a few. OK, well how many among us have walked halfway to our “festive melody ringer” device only to discover that the “ringing” had been part of the soundtrack on the TV show we were watching at the time? Yep. A whole lot more. Thought so.)

There was a time when, as a Society, we collectively determined a need and used creativity to identify a process or invent a device to fill it. Now, it seems to me, more often we pitch devices into production and ideas into implementation first, and only then set about to justify the decision. Technology is going berserk. We have cameras in cellphones simply because we can put cameras in cellphones, not because Society woke up one morning and began clamouring for a device that would enable us to photograph our clogged nasal passages while phoning the boss. (“See? I told you I was sick!”) Our cellphone buttons are the size of a flea’s rec room carpet because we can make them that small, not because someone asked for an array of buttons so minuscule that they’re completely covered by your thumbprint, thus pretty well guaranteeing you’ll screw up at least once every time you dial a call. (And yes, I know “dial” as a verb is soon to lapse into the lore of “How did placing a phone call ever get to be called ‘dialling’, Daddy?”, but that’s a rant for another day.)

It won’t surprise me to hear one day soon that the latest plastic surgery wave has generated waiting lists months long for a procedure to have one of your finger tips whittled down to pencil-point sharpness because frankly, the only thing limiting the further reduction of cellphone button dimensions is the diameter of the typical human digit. When we can beat that, we’ll be inundated with cellphones that pack all of the above features into a finished package about a quarter the size of a Ty-Phoo teabag.

But I digress.

Once Technology does these things – because it can – it is up to Sales to convince us we need them.

Go back and re-read that list of cellphone features a few paragraphs back. Does anyone honestly think this device was manufactured in response to surveys and focus groups whose participants agreed that they wanted all these features in their telephones?

And yet here we sit. The device exists. Did we ask for it? (Nope.) Do we need it? (Damned straight, if Sales has done its job right.)

Some other things we apparently need? (Everything in the following few quotes comes from websites breathlessly pitching their unquestioned value to us as consumers.):

– “The LG Refrigerator with built-in LCD TV is a sight to behold.” Yep – a refrigerator with a built-in TV, because the online promotional material tells us that the American family is spending more and more time in the kitchen. The website, after cheerily extolling at length the specifications and quality of their built-in LCD television, adds as an afterthought, “LG didn't overlook the refrigerator either.”

– A mechanical “waistband stretcher [that] can add up to 5 inches to the waist of your jeans, shorts, pants or skirts.” (Actually, I already have one of those. I call it a stomach.)

– A “rechargeable insect vacuum [that] lets you quickly capture insects from a safe distance without having direct contact or leaving marks and scuffs on walls. Bug Catcher draws flies, spiders, bees, etc. into its transparent 17" nozzle and into a disposable, sealed cartridge. Each cartridge is lined with a non-toxic gel (harmless to humans and pets) that quickly kills insects and then slides out for easy disposal.” (I’m still trying to decide if this one plays on fears of killer bees, or a simple dislike of cleaning fly-swatted bugs off the wall.)

And if you want a genuine limited edition 1994 election ballot from South Africa, when Nelson Mandela first appeared as a candidate, you can buy one of those too.

With no shame whatsoever, Hedonics.com, a site that offers a whole lot of crap like this, pitches it to you with the slogan, “Stuff you never knew you needed but now you can't live without!!!”

Well I beg – no wait, I DEMAND! – to differ.

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And finally, Wednesday this week was the long awaited “Collect strike pay” day – and damned good timing too, because Wednesday this week was also “Your regular paycheque has finally had your three strike days deducted” day. True to form, the mighty PSAC had sent out a notice by e-mail telling us the event was arranged for the lobby of our building – date and time: 11am – period.

What they hadn’t bothered to tell us about was the chaos that would take place as people mobbed the half dozen scattered tables they had set up until, by about 11:15, they posted a hand-lettered sign on the wall behind each table indicating what line you should be in if you were in such-and-such a local, and your last name starts with such-and-such a letter. They had also omitted to tell us to bring our reduced paycheque stub as confirmation we were entitled to strike pay. (Fortunately, I had mine with me. Not because I knew I would need it, but only because I carry a small shoulder bag that, were I a woman, would be called a purse. And it was tucked in there by force of habit.)

Finally, they actually had the gall to wait until we were all standing in line until they circulated an information bulletin among the dozens of us waiting. It said, in part, “CEIU 70702 and 70708 [70708 is my local] do not have an executive. Jacques Archambault has approached the banks holding the funds of these locals and will arrange to have the cheques distributed as soon as possible. Please do not call him this week. Thank you for walking the line.”

Gnrrr… gnrrr… gnrrr… (That’s supposed to be the sound of wheels spinning uselessly.) But it was not a total loss. We did receive cheques to cover the PSAC portion of the strike pay – half what is due to the strikers. Just not the local’s half, because they couldn’t get their act together to be able to distribute cheques on the day they have known for weeks would be the day on which they needed to have the cheques in hand.

What “[These locals] do not have an executive” has to do with anything is beyond me. Every organization I’ve ever belonged to has operated under the rule that signing authorities remain in force until subsequent signing authorities are appointed. So you’re trying to tell me no one presently has access to the union local’s bank account or can sign cheques drawn on that account? Right.

But “do not call him this week” is abundantly clear. It means, “We know you’re likely to be a little ticked at our hopeless disorganization, and the fact you’re only getting half what you were expecting to get, so we’re not going to answer the phones for a few days in the hope that most of you will cool down.”

And in a totally unplanned (I swear!) coincidence, literally at the moment I was snarlingly banging this final thought out on my keyboard, I was abruptly aware that my CD player was happily (Adverb overload! Adverb overload! We’re losing containment! Captain, this sentence is about to blow! Eject the warped core!) conveying The Band’s “King Harvest” into the adjacent ether:

“I work for the union,
'Cause she's so good to me;
And I'm bound to come out on top,
That's where she said I should be.
I will hear every word the boss may say,
For he's the one who hands me down my pay.
Looks like this time I'm gonna get to stay,
I'm a union man, now, all the way.
The smell of the leaves,
From the magnolia trees in the meadow...
King Harvest has surely come.
Dry summer, then comes fall,
Which I depend on most of all.
Hey, rainmaker, can you hear the call?
Please let these crops grow tall.
Long enough I've been up on Skid Row;
And it's plain to see, I've nothing to show.
I'm glad to pay those union dues,
Just don't judge me by my shoes.”