Category Archives: technology

It’s that time a year where pundits, analysts, and self-proclaimed experts are weighing in on the biggest tech stories of the last year and what they think will be the ones to watch in the year to come. And, while all of these make for interesting water cooler conversation and drive traffic to tech websites, to you they are likely irrelevant (unless you work for RIM, knew Steve Jobs, have a personal connection to Facebook, etc.)

There is only one big tech story for the year and only one to watch for the year to come. The biggest tech story of last year is the one that mattered the most to you. Perhaps that is your privacy concerns when using certain social networks. Perhaps that is the new gadget you got and how it makes your life just a tad bit better. Perhaps that is the concern about a tech company you have come to rely upon now that its leader has passed (or, in the case of some, gone insane). No matter what it is, it is the story that affects you the most.

The biggest tech story of the new year will be what you are going to do to change it.

Is there an app or service that is not meeting your needs? Learn to code and build a replacement for yourself.

Concerned about the ownership of the things you share? Create a Personal RSS feed or pipe everything through a service like Pinboard. (You can and should subscribe to mine)

Feeling overwhelmed by all of this info-tech-social-stuff? Get yourself on a proper information diet.

The point is that the biggest tech story of 2012 will not be anything talked about in the media or some blog. The biggest tech story will be the same one it has always been…

You.

I’ve been doing some thinking lately on impermanence in a digital world. Permanence is often assumed despite the inherently impermanent nature of existence itself. Life is impermanent. Nothing that exists will exist forever. Why should our data be assumed to be any more so? Why do we treat it with such perpetuity? Does it in some way represent immortality? Do we take comfort in some potentially mis-applied idea that these things could outlast us and therefore will?

We would like to believe that that which we put up on the internet or save to the cloud is available forever. But how can we, who shall never see forever, possibly understand what forever is or agree on what it means? And what happens when we have the skill and the will to decide to erase our creations for that same forever — permanently?

We all now have access to tools that allow us to recover those things we delete — either through accident or purpose — for as far back as the backup storage space will allow. What then is to stop us from hitting delete instead of sorting it to some virtual folder and saving it? Why not let the clouds we are building do this for us? Why not erase these things with the knowledge that, in the rare times we might need them later we can get them back? Especially for those items we are not certain we will ever have to access again? Is it that despite our desire to have faith in digital permanence we, in fact, know the truth of all things in inherent impermanence?

I know people that have had a hard drive crash and lost everything because they had no backup. Years later, it happens again. I then inquire as to why they did not have a backup — especially after the lesson they should have learned the first time. The reason: Though the previous loss was painful at first, they rebuilt. They moved on. They survived. They saw no value in backup because they knew if the drive crashed they would rebuild, move on, and survive again.

I’d like to think that embracing such impermanence grants them a level of effortless peace. It gives them a certain confidence that their digital creations are not stronger than their ability to survive without them.

Perhaps it is this peace and confidence that fuels one to declare Status 410 and walk away. Knowing that what good you could do has been done — in a place, for a time. Now, it is gone. Life and all of it’s creations are permanently impermanent. When the permanence we and others have come to rely on suddenly reveals itself to be less so, we can only rebuild, move on, and survive.