Illusions of Permanence

Blogging about the ancient world presents idiosyncratic problems. Quite apart from the fact that few readers show much interest in the shadowy ages of antiquity when new tunes and flicks are available to download just mouse-clicks away, the worldview of ancient people is difficult to comprehend. Most people before the common era probably focused their energies on their crops and beasts, hoping to survive for as long as possible in a subsistence world. I’m sure they would have appreciated an i-pod as they were out plowing or were at home weaving and cooking, but theirs was a solid, practical world where reality could be brutally felt.

Fast-forward to our day. I can’t teach a class of undergraduates without noticing their constant attention to their electronic arsenals forever at hand. Cell-phones, i-pods, laptops, and god-knows what-else making as much buzzing and chirping noise as a meadow in springtime. This constant interruption is what Linda Stone has coined “continuous partial attention.” Kids are raised to juggle many sources of input or stimulation at one time, an activity that befuddles those of us raised when television was black-and-white and telephones were heavy devices solidly settled in one place. The disconnect is palpable.

I read in Wired magazine some years back a whimsical analysis of data storage. A chart indicated the most reliable means of keeping data over long periods. Electronic media suffers from rapidly increasing technology (does anyone have a 5-and-a-quarter inch floppy drive I can borrow?) as well as the transience of the media itself (electrons marching in order). On the top of Wired’s chart for durability was the humble clay tablet with a period of about 5000 years. I chuckled at the chart, but deep in my psyche I know that a major power-outage, or a catastrophically failing server could plunge my electronic compositions and data into oblivion. We have so much information out there, but what happens if it flies away in the tale of an errant comet? My suggestion to the younger generation is to learn cuneiform. It may take a few years, but as a storage solution it is rock-solid.

The original hard copy

3 thoughts on “Illusions of Permanence

  1. I heard something related a few years ago, maybe on NPR, posing the question, “What happens to the electronic archives when we die?” Or really, when our parents die. Each new and larger hard drive holds the contents of the previous drive with room to spare for the new data, so it usually never gets cleaned out. Photos, letters, email, etc in the thousands. Will I one day have a hard drive of all the emails my father sent over 15-25 years? Very likely actually. Will I have the courage or heart to Right-Click…Send To Trash…Empty Trash…? Will my kids do that with my digital footprint? :^)

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    • Steve Wiggins

      A serious question! My friends in college and I used to talk about when we’d become famous (hah!) and that our letters would be collected to glean even more wisdom from our words. Nobody writes letters anymore, so what will happen to our collective knowledge? Not that I’m planning on being famous, but everything we write these days is on the keyboard…

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