This could be one of the more interesting technology adoption stories going forward.

It’s not just that the brightest at Microsoft or Nokia or Google can’t make an upgrade stick. It’s that the upgrade is not universally beneficial to the value chain. To remedy this, licensors have to resort to contractual obligations to ensure upgrades, but enforcement is non-trivial and can lead to aggravated relationships.

Unless all licensees of a platform find compelling value in shouldering the burden of upgrades, they will continue to be really hard.

 

Post from: Tom Satwicz

Failure to upgrade

Following up on my fascination with empty phone booths, it seems several British communities are using old phone boxes as lending libraries.

Thanks BoingBoing.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

Empty phone box as library

I woke up the other morning thinking about open sourced software and patents for some reason. I really don’t know why I was thinking about these topics, I’m neither a programmer or a patent attorney. Anyway in an effort to get it off my mind, here are my thoughts.

The disagreement over the value of open sourced software and the necessity of software patents is a case where both sides of the debate seem to talk past each other. I think there are probably two points each side could reasonably concede.

First, those that favor intellectual property protection need to recognize that open source software development has in fact had a significant impact on what is currently available for the user. It is hard to imagine what the status of web-browsers would be with out Mozilla. I might also argue that netbooks as we know them today would not exist without open source software development (i.e., OLPC, Ubuntu, etc.).  Isn’t that a market that computer companies had not developed for until the open source movement took a shot at it?

The second point, and this one is geared towards those in the open source movement, is that for some developers there does need to be some assurance that what they have created will be protected for innovation to occur. The pure models of open source software development do not adequately account for this.

From those two points here is what I think what a compromise would look like.

There needs to be a shorter time period on the length of time it takes for a piece of software to lose its protection. I would say that even the most secretively developed piece of software sold to the public (if it is not ever sold to the market then none of this matters) should at some point be open to inspection by the public. Software that was developed and sold in the mid 80s should at this point be open to inspection.

The next point is tied up in what I mean by ‘open to inspection’ and what probably needs to be a tiered system of software protection. If I were to fully patent a physical widget and sell it to the public, anyone that purchased it would have the ability to inspect my work and learn from it. The learning part here is non-trivial, which is probably why I woke up thinking about this topic. As far as I can tell this is not the case with software. If I were a programmer I do not have the same kind of opportunities to learn from how Microsoft built Windows 2000 as an electrical engineer does from how Toyota built the Prius. I think this kind of roadblock to learning is pretty serious and one that software development community will need to over come.

One way to overcome this would be to have a level of access to code that allows outsiders to see how particular problems were solved without allowing them the right to use that code in their own projects. We could even require companies to do this after a specified period. In terms of protecting against fraud, computer science departments already use programs that compare code against what is already available in order to seek out cheaters. I’m not certain whether what is currently out there would work with any large scale projects, but with the right system in place there would be incentive to develop the capability to seek out fraud.

How would this system work? Let’s say that you (either as a corp or an individual) develop some piece of software that you want to sell to the public. You could make it freely open to the public in a way that is consistent with open source movement currently advocates. You could also keep it entirely proprietary as many companies currently do. The catch is that after a certain period of time, say two years, you would need to make the code open-to-inspection. At this point, no one would be able to use your code, build from your code, or adapt your code for their own projects. They are simply allowed to learn from what you have done. After a certain point, say when the market value of the software reaches zero or 15 years, your code becomes open and fully available to the public to do with it whatever it pleases.

There are probably a ton of things I am missing here, but like I said at the start I am neither a software developer or an IP attorney. What I do know is that in comparison to how many non-software inventions are protected software protections limit opportunities for learning.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

some random thoughts on software protection

Photo by craigfinlay on Flickr

I don’t want to deride the many benefits of digital media, but I think it is worth spending a bit of time pointing to one particular aspect of physical media that is worth defending. A few months ago my grandmother passed away after a long and happy life. Included in the few things left behind in her small apartment was a rather extensive collection of photographs spanning 87 years. My grandmother was not known for her photographic skills, but she did keep pictures from many of the people and events she encountered. Written on the back of the photographs were some essential details–names, dates, and places–that provided us with a wonderful opportunity.

My family had to sort through all of these photographs and in doing so we benefited from the kinds of experiences that physical media are very adept at offering. Determining what to do with each photograph or album provided the opportunity for us to explore her memories, celebrate her life, learn about our family history, and revisit some of the things that were important to her. I have a hard time seeing how this would have been possible if the photos she had taken as a young person were stored only in digital form. Yes, the whole family would have had access to them and if I were to scan and post them now they would as well, but the process of sorting, sharing, and telling stories as a collaborative activity in the wake of her funeral would have been diminished. Maybe this is a testament to the scrapbooking movement, which creates physical media that will likely outlive its creators, but it is also an unintended use that provides an opening for some new ways of thinking about how we interact with photographs and other forms of media.

Sam Lander makes some useful points about how time is represented in analog vs digital. Among those points is her recollection of using a Filofax to keep her appointments and how the act of refilling the pages and entering appointments would provide an opportunity for reflection.

I would review last year’s appointments, marvel at how much I had gotten done and how fast time had passed. I would linger over favourite appointments, which seemed, at the time, inconsequential, as recorded in my scribbled hand.

What Sam points to, and what I hope my example also illustrates, is the importance of the physical-embodied aspects of the media we are quickly leaving behind. In many ways good designs already recognize that digital media exists inside of some physical object; form factor is certainly important to any new device. What physical media provides us with are opportunities to reflect, learn, and interact in ways that are not yet fully replicated in digital media. Let’s hope that they will be soon.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

In defense of physical media

Construction workers in Hannover Germany uncovered an unstable World War II bomb. It never ceases to amaze me how the things that we create can live long past their expected life with significant consequences well into the future. The area was cleared and the bomb was safely detonated, but that’s not always the case.

I think this happens in much subtler and less dangerous ways everyday. I have an on going project that involves photographing empty phone booths where ever I find them. Sometimes the neglect of these spaces is quite evident; there is tons of graffiti, a broken handset, or wires coming from where the phone was at one time. In other cases, the space has found some new use as a display or information source. Sometimes it is just empty. Almost always it is clear that though the space was designed for a technology and activity that we no longer need or use like we once did it still very much is apart of our world.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

Still there 60 years later: What WWII bombs and phone booths have in common

Wow, this is confusing.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

Amazon’s DRM problem

Canonical, the company that produces a popular version of Linux called Ubuntu, is asking users to help identify usability bugs.

Post from: Tom Satwicz

Ubuntu usability study