

The Impermanence Factor
This particular phenomenon isn't limited to my website. The other day I was trying to install a piece of software for my wife and discovered a rather interesting situation. The directions were on-line. They weren't simple. They wouldn't print out. There was no way to keep a window with the directions and install the software. In the end I had to write them out by hand. Then there are the companies who have "solutions" to problems on-line, but seem to forget that those solutions are useless if you have problems with their website, even as you wait in a telephone queue for "technical assistance." These are all symptoms of a society that seems to think that electronic storage is permanent and that, because it's electronic, anyone can access it and figure it out. Neither assumption, of course, is true, widespread as both appear to be. We have books and records dating back thousands and thousands of years, evidence from other cultures and civilizations, written insights into what they did and how they acted. If we follow the trend -- and go "paperless" as all the businesses urge us -- what insights will we leave? We can't even read computer records of thirty years ago. This is even truer on a personal letter. My father kept letters he thought were memorable, and they're still available, yellowed paper and all. Somehow, I don't see much in the way of memorable emails being saved (if there are even such)... and there's another factor involved as well. Most letter-writers, and possibly most writers whose works are recorded in print form, tend to write more accurately and clearly, almost as if they understood that what they wrote might be scrutinized more than once. In my mind, all this leads to a number of questions: Do disposable communications too often equate to disposable thoughts and insights? Do impermanent and easily changed records lead to greater carelessness? Or greater dishonesty and fraud? What exactly are we giving up for the sake of going electronic and paperless?
One of the advantages of our internet age is that one can profit by marketing good products even to tiny subgroups. O'Reilly publishes "The Missing Manual" books for people like me who want a thorough, printed manual. I've purchased two plus a comprehensive Mac OS X manual. They exceed in quality and thoroughness even the best vendor-provided manuals.
The idea of getting computer-related help from web sites is among the dumbest I've encountered. At the very least, the vendor should provide a PDF document with detailed information including troubleshooting approaches. For crucial software, I print the key parts of those files immediately after installation and store them with my manuals. When key info is available only on web sites, I capture it as text or a PDF file and save it locally or print it (or both). My satellite internet connection is slow and unreliable, especially with rarely accessed pages that HughesNet doesn't cache. I've had to wait past midnight for a better connection, which is why I learned to capture or print the help info.
I complain when vendors provide no local documentation, and, if there is a choice, I buy from vendors with good manuals. However, too few of us care, so the vendors don't get punished for skimping on manuals and help files.
In short, the difference in the depth of content between one two-person media and other is the reply time. The faster it is, the smaller are the idea increments per round. If you were using the telephone, the conversation would be a rapid series of twitters, each lighter in content than even email exhibits.
Although writing a letter isn't nearly at the workload level that writing a book is, it is nonetheless one of the most significant acts of composition that many people will ever perform. I think that once the average person gets the hang of it, he'll want to compose his letters well and make sort of an art of it.
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