Computers Are Bad is a newsletter on the history of the computer
and communications industry. It will be thrown directly at your doorstep on
semi-regular schedule, to enlighten you as to why computers are that
way.
I have an MS in information security, several certifications, and ready
access to a keyboard. These are all properties which make me ostensibly
qualified to comment on issues of computer technology. I do my best to stay
away from my areas of professional qualification, though. Instead, I talk
about things that are actually interesting. Think mid-century
telecommunications history, legacies of the Cold War, and the rise and fall
of the technology industry's stranger bit players.
You can read here, on the information superhighway, but to keep your
neighborhood paperboy pedaling down that superhighway on a bicycle please subscribe. This also contributes
enormously to my personal self esteem. There is an RSS feed for those who really want it. Fax
delivery available upon request.
Last but not least, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi. Monthly
supporters receive eyes only, a special bonus
edition that is lower effort and higher sass, covering topics that don't
quite make it to a full article.
An opening note: would you believe that I have been at this for five years, now?
If I planned ahead better, I would have done this on the five-year
anniversary, but I missed it. Computers Are Bad is now five years and four
months old.
When I originally launched CAB, it was my second attempt at keeping up a blog.
The first, which I had called 12 Bit Word, went nowhere and I stopped keeping
it up. One of the reasons, I figured, is that I had put too much effort into it.
CAB was a very low-effort affair, which was perhaps best exemplified by the
website itself. It was monospace and 80 characters wide, a decision that I found
funny (in a shitposty way) and generated constant complaints. To be fair, if you
didn't like the font, it was "user error:" I only ever specified "monospace" and
I can't be blamed that certain platforms default to Courier. But there were
problems beyond the appearance; the tool that generated the website was
extremely rough and made new features frustrating to implement.
Over the years, I have not invested much (or really any) effort in promoting
CAB or even making it presentable. I figured my readership, interested in
vintage computing, would probably put up with it anyway. That is at least
partially true, and I am not going to put any more effort into promotion, but
some things have changed. Over time I have broadened my topics quite a bit, and
I now regularly write about things that I would have dropped as "off topic"
three or four years ago. Similarly, my readership has broadened, and probably to
a set of people that find 80 characters of monospace text less charming.
I think I've also changed my mind in some ways about what is "special" about
CAB. One of the things that I really value about it, that I don't think comes
across to readers well, is the extent to which it is what I call artisanal
internet. It's like something you'd get at the farmer's market. What I mean by
this is that CAB is a website generated by a static site generator that I
wrote, and a newsletter sent by a mailing list system that I wrote, and you
access them by connecting directly to a VM that I administer, on a VM cluster
that I administer, on hardware that I own, in a rack that I lease in a data
center in downtown Albuquerque, New Mexico. This is a very old-fashioned way of
doing things, now, and one of the ironies is that it is a very expensive way of
doing things. It would be radically cheaper and easier to use wordpress.com, and
it would probably go down less often and definitely go down for reasons that are
my fault less often. But I figure people listen to me in part because I
don't use wordpress.com, because I have weird and often impractical opinions
about how to best contribute to internet culture.
I have an ongoing fascination with "interactive TV": a series of efforts,
starting in the 1990s and continuing today, to drag the humble living room
television into the world of the computer. One of the big appeals of
interactive TV was adoption, the average household had a TV long before the
average household had a computer. So, it seems like interactive TV services
should have proliferated before personal computers, at least following the
logic that many in the industry did at the time.
This wasn't untrue! In the UK, for example, Ceefax was a widespread success by
the 1980s. In general, TV-based teletext systems were pretty common in Europe.
In North America, they never had much of an impact---but not for lack of
trying. In fact, there were multiple competing efforts at teletext in the US
and Canada, and it may very well have been the sheer number of independent
efforts that sunk the whole idea. But let's start at the beginning.
The BBC went live with Ceefax in 1974, the culmination of years of prototype
development and test broadcasts over the BBC network. Ceefax was quickly joined
by other teletext standards in Europe, and the concept enjoyed a high level of
adoption. This must have caught the attention of many in the television
industry on this side of the ocean, but it was Bonneville International that
first bit 1. Its premier holding, KSL-TV of Salt Lake City, has an influence
larger than its name suggests: KSL was carried by an extensive repeater network
and reached a large portion of the population throughout the Mountain States.
Because of the wide reach of KSL and the even wider reach of the religion that
relied on Bonneville for communications, Bonneville was also an early innovator
in satellite distribution of television and data. These were ingredients that
made for a promising teletext network, one that could quickly reach a large
audience and expand to broader television networks through satellite
distribution.
One of the most significant single advancements in telecommunications
technology was the development of microwave radio. Essentially an evolution of
radar, the middle of the Second World War saw the first practical microwave
telephone system. By the time Japan surrendered, AT&T had largely abandoned
their plan to build an extensive nationwide network of coaxial telephone
cables. Microwave relay offered greater capacity at a lower cost. When Japan
and the US signed their peace treaty in 1951, it was broadcast from coast to
coast over what AT&T called the "skyway": the first transcontinental telephone
lead made up entirely of radio waves. The fact that live television coverage
could be sent over the microwave system demonstrated its core advantage. The
bandwidth of microwave links, their capacity, was truly enormous. Within the
decade, a single microwave antenna could handle over 1,000 simultaneous calls.
Microwave's great capacity, its chief advantage, comes from the high
frequencies and large bandwidths involved. The design of microwave-frequency
radio electronics was an engineering challenge that was aggressively attacked
during the war because microwave frequency's short wavelengths made them
especially suitable for radar. The cavity magnetron, one of the first practical
microwave transmitters, was an invention of such import that it was the UK's
key contribution to a technical partnership that lead to the UK's access to US
nuclear weapons research. Unlike the "peaceful atom," though, the "peaceful
microwave" spread fast after the war. By the end of the 1950s, most
long-distance telephone calls were carried over microwave. While coaxial
long-distance carriers such as
L-carrier saw
continued use in especially congested areas, the supremacy of microwave for
telephone communications would not fall until adoption of fiber optics in
the 1980s.
Alcatraz first operated as a prison in 1859, when the military fort first held
convicted soldiers. The prison technology of the time was simple, consisting of
little more than a basement room with a trap-door entrance. Only small numbers
of prisoners were held in this period, but it established Alcatraz as a center
of incarceration. Later, the Civil War triggered construction of a "political
prison," a term with fewer negative connotations at the time, for confederate
sympathizers.
This prison was more purpose-built (although actually a modification of an
existing shop), but it was small and not designed for an especially high
security level. It presaged, though, a much larger construction project to
come.
Alcatraz had several properties that made it an attractive prison. First, it
had seen heavy military construction as a Civil War defensive facility, but
just decades later improvements in artillery made its fortifications obsolete.
That left Alcatraz surplus property, a complete military installation available
for new use. Second, Alcatraz was formidable. The small island was made up of
steep rock walls, and it was miles from shore in a bay known for its strong
currents. Escape, even for prisoners who had seized control of the island,
would be exceptionally difficult.
These advantages were also limitations. Alcatraz was isolated and difficult to
support, requiring a substantial roster of military personnel to ferry supplies
back and forth. There were no connections to the mainland, requiring on-site
power and water plants. Corrosive sea spray, sent over the island by the Bay's
strong winds, lay perpetual siege on the island. Buildings needed constant
maintenance, rust covered everything. Alcatraz was not just a famous prison, it
was a particularly complicated one.
In 1909, Alcatraz lost its previous defensive role and pivoted entirely to
military prison. The Citadel, a hardened barracks building dating to the
original fortifications, was partially demolished. On top of it, a new
cellblock was built. This was a purpose-built prison, designed to house several
hundred inmates under high security conditions.
A long time ago I wrote about secret government telephone
numbers,
and before that, secret military telephone
buttons.
I suppose this is becoming a series. To be clear, the "secret" here is a joke,
but more charitably I could say that it refers to obscurity rather than any
real effort to keep them secret. Actually, today's examples really make
this point: they're specifically intended to be well known, but are still
pretty obscure in practice.
If you've been around for a while, you know how much I love telephone
numbers. Here in North
America, we have a system called the North American Numbering Plan (NANP) that
has rigidly standardized telephone dialing practices since the middle of the
20th century. The US, Canada, and a number of Central American countries
benefit from a very orderly system of area codes (more formally numbering plan
areas or NPAs) followed by a subscriber number written in the format NXX-XXXX
(this is a largely NANP-centric notation for describing phone number patterns,
N represents the digits 2-9 and X any digit). All of these NANP numbers reside
under the country code 1, allowing at least theoretically seamless
international dialing within the NANP community. It's really a pretty elegant
system.
NANP is the way it is for many reasons, but it mostly reflects technical
requirements of the telephone exchanges of the 1940s. This is more thoroughly
explained in the link above, but one of the goals of NANP is to ensure that
step-by-step (SxS) exchanges can process phone numbers digit by digit as they
are dialed. In other words, it needs to be possible to navigate the decision
tree of telephone routing using only the digits dialed so far.
Readers with a computer science education might have some tidy way to describe
this in terms of Chompsky or something, but I do not have a computer science
education; I have an Information Technology education. That means I prefer flow
charts to automata, and we can visualize a basic SxS exchange as a big tree.
When you pick up your phone, you start at the root of the tree, and each digit
dialed chooses the edge to follow. Eventually you get to a leaf that is
hopefully someone's telephone, but at no point in the process does any node
benefit from the context of digits you dial before, after, or how many total
digits you dial. This creates all kinds of practical constraints, and is the
reason, for example, that we tend to write ten-digit phone numbers with a "1"
before them.