this and gigahertz of that. They operate according to their own principles, a formal logic that is quite unnatural to the untutored human mind, and they tend to be strong and silent, seldom explaining, seldom conversing but quick to criticize, quick to fail if their precise operating requirements are not met. Requirements, mind you, that are seldom specified, even after problems arise. When machines work properly, we put up with them. But when things go wrong, what then? They laugh at us. Even so, despite all the insults and difficulties, we love them. We can’t live without them, so we are constantly looking out for them, even changing the way we live to make it easier for them. We cherish machines.

January + February 2009

And yes, machines require a lot of love and attention. Spoiled brats. They need washing and waxing, cleaning and polishing, oiling and maintenance. Our software needs upgrading and installation and frequent restarts and saving. Backups, too. We need spare parts for our mechanical stuff, spare tires for our cars, backup disks and services for our software. If each item requires attention only once a month, given the way the machines proliferate when not being watched, this means that every day of our lives, two to 10 machines need our attention. I hereby give you Norman’s law:

 

Norman’s law: The number of hours per day spent maintaining our equipment doubles every 18 months.

Moore’s law has lasted decades. Norman’s law will as well, so that someday (not long from now) we will spend 32

hours out of each 24-hour day doing machine maintenance.

One of these days, people will have had enough. We will revolt: The early signs are visible now. How do I know? I keep my ear to the ground, checking the pulse of the people. Here’s an example:

“Stupid machine,” I heard the woman shout as I walked through the lobby of the building. She had parked her car in the garage and now wanted to pay and go on her way. She put her parking pass into the slot, paid, but received no receipt, which she needed to drive her car out of the lot. “Stupid, stupid,” she said, kicking the machine. She pushed a button: “bzzz,” answered the machine. “It won’t give me my ticket,” she yelled to nobody in particular, pushing more buttons and getting buzzing sounds in response.

Machines certainly do act stupid, but they aren’t. The problem is they think they are perfect, and if anything goes wrong, they blame someone else, usually the closest person. People, it is true, get in the way. “If only we didn’t have all these people around,” one can imagine them saying, “the machines would work just fine.”

Actually, I don’t have to imagine. Machines have taken over the minds of the underground sympathizers: programmers, engineers, and system administrators, as well as other Very Important People I dare not name. But I have heard humans spouting their message (I’m keeping a list of names). You can find them yourself. They will use phrases such as “foolproofing” or “idiot proofing,” thereby expressing the contempt machines feel for human beings. Fools and idiots, they call us. How machines