1iconThe Silicon Jungle

Americans are fighting each other not just in the marketplace but also in the Silicon Jungle.

The jungle isn’t greenery. It isn’t land. It’s nothing more than the mineral in tiny computer chips that switch electronic impulses.

But a jungle it is:

● Airline X accused Airline Y of electronically sabotaging X’s reservations operation and contributing to a $733-million bankruptcy. The charges may have been false. But their very existence dramatized the increasing link between computer security and corporate survival.

● Car thieves have computerized to keep better track of hot auto parts. That’s bad news not only for police but also for rival thieves with antiquated record keeping. Meanwhile, a hooker ring, too, has automated. And a gambling operation analyzed its profits daily through a big computer hooked up to smaller ones in forty-three cities.[1]

● An editor confesses he snooped on the competition by figuring out the computer password of Brand X newspaper (“it’s like playing Scrabble—a matter of time and an interested mind”).

● Millions of more scrupulous Americans are increasingly relying on micros to outwit their rivals.

Consider two deadline-ridden lawyers locked in combat over the same case. Lawyer A might ferret out legal precedents through eye-straining research at libraries, while B could cover the same territory in minutes through the right taps on a new IBM personal computer.

Siliconized war is “in” between and among giants and gnats.

“One hundred years ago in Colorado, the Colt .44 was a greatequalizer,” a westerner once said; now he said his suitcase-sized micro was.

Today better machines sell for around $1,000. With trimmings they can:

● Electronically zip messages to other computers and people across the country.

● Be word processors, doubling some writers’ production.

● Prepare spreadsheets, which help businesses quickly calculate the future costs of providing products or services.

● Keep records electronically.

● Help you whip up jazzy charts to whet your boss’s interest in your work—in a nice way.

This book will tell you how to make the best use of portables and other business computers wherever you are—large company, small, or on your own. Big bureaucracy is here, also, complete with the Case of the Missing Cafeteria (explained in Chapter 7).

Instead of hearing just about computers in the abstract, you’ll learn about them in life. Arthur C. Clarke, the world-famous science-fiction novelist who wrote2001and2010, will tell how WordStar software made him “a born-again writer.” And the FBI, top consultants, and a felon named Captain Zap will warn against electronic crooks.

There’ll be computer tips, too, from obscure but savvy business people, such as a New York real estate executive whose micro skills lead to his six-figure income.

You’ll also hear from some stars of the industry, including WordStar’s creators, and you’ll learn how their lives and philosophies tie in with the products on sale at your local computer store.

We begin with the Ten (Micro) Commandments:

DON’T FALL FOR THE SOFT SELL—ORHARD SELL.THE COMPUTER BUSINESS IS A JUNGLE.

DON’T FALL FOR THE SOFT SELL—OR

HARD SELL.

THE COMPUTER BUSINESS IS A JUNGLE.

“This machine here is a Mercedes,” a Radio Shack man once told me. “Apple’s the Ford. You want to buy a Mercedes or a Ford?”

How do you cut through the hype to buy a machine that is better than your competitor’s?

You’ve got your own jungle to survive, and, by learning how computer firms make and market their offerings, you’ll be a better shopper.

Especially beware of the computer hawker who says he’s a “technician” with your interest in mind.

BUT REMEMBER THAT GOOD GUYSCAN FINISH FIRST.

BUT REMEMBER THAT GOOD GUYS

CAN FINISH FIRST.

The New York executive saved his blue-chip company a fortune and won his $100,000-plus salary without firing anyone, groveling before his boss, or cheapening a product or service.

By picking the right computer or program, you just might get a head start on the office toady.

AVOID THE SNACK-FOOD PROGRAMS—THEONES EASY TO LEARNBUT LESS SATISFYING TO USE.

AVOID THE SNACK-FOOD PROGRAMS—THE

ONES EASY TO LEARN

BUT LESS SATISFYING TO USE.

With press agents and flashy boxes for disks, the software market is going Hollywood.

It’s also, however, becoming more like the cupcake industry—geared not to nourish but to please instantly.

Some marketeers are trying to displace good, solid business programs with Twinkie-like products thatsellwell but don’tworkwell.

LEARN ABOUT COMPUTERSAS THEY RELATE TO YOUR JOB.

LEARN ABOUT COMPUTERS

AS THEY RELATE TO YOUR JOB.

Normally, you and your employees needn’t become true computer experts.

In most cases you’ll lack the time or talent to write the programs you need to be fully competitive. Very likely you can use off-the-shelf software instead.

Also, you can find the right computer consultant and carefully oversee his work; this book will help you avoid gobblers.

BE HUMANE—PROFITABLY.

Micros can be efficient and humane at the same time. Don’t confuseThe Silicon JunglewithWinning through Intimidation. Often, for instance, some humanity can improve your efficiency by lowering the number of errors your people may make. This book tells how to choose equipment that’s easiest on your people’s eyes and backbones.

BONE UP ON COMPUTER CRIME—BUTDON’T NEGLECT ROUTINE WAYS OF MAKING YOURELECTRONIC RECORDS SAFE.

BONE UP ON COMPUTER CRIME—BUT

DON’T NEGLECT ROUTINE WAYS OF MAKING YOUR

ELECTRONIC RECORDS SAFE.

You should worry about computer crime, while not neglecting garden-variety problems of “data security,” like coffee spilled on floppy disks.

Pity a poor wedding-cake maker. The other day on the radio I heard that he couldn’t fill his orders because a forgetful computer had wiped them from its memory.

“WIRE IN” TO TELECOMMUTINGIF IT’S RIGHT FOR YOURCOMPANY—AND PERHAPS SAVETHOUSANDS IN OFFICE RENTS.

“WIRE IN” TO TELECOMMUTING

IF IT’S RIGHT FOR YOUR

COMPANY—AND PERHAPS SAVE

THOUSANDS IN OFFICE RENTS.

Working at home on a computer isn’t for everyone. Some jobs will always require face-to-face contact.

Telecommuting, however, is a nifty new way to gain an edge on the competition while ending some workers’ rush-hour woes. Say, you now spend $4,000 annually on rented space for each employee. Allowing home work may save you more than $8,000 per telecommuter, totaled up over five years, if your tax rate is 35 percent.

REJOICE! MOST LIKELYYOU’LL JUSTIFY YOURTRAVAIL.

REJOICE! MOST LIKELY

YOU’LL JUSTIFY YOUR

TRAVAIL.

Computerization is harder than your friendly computer store might lead you to believe, but most likely you’ll justify your travail.

Someone once said he never knew of an author who gave up his computer and returned to a pen. I’ll buy that.

THROUGH IT ALL,KNOW WHAT THE OTHER GUY’S UP TO.

THROUGH IT ALL,

KNOW WHAT THE OTHER GUY’S UP TO.

You’re better off if you know what the other guy—or woman—is up to.

This book is, frankly, for top executives and mid-level people, small businessmen, and professionals. And if your employees read it? Well, so much the better.

“You” here is many people.

Some of my most enterprising readers, by the way, won’t just be interested in computers for themselves or their companies. They’ll also see them as marketing opportunities involving the rest of the world.

Take Mike Bell, a Xerox executive. We talked about munytels—neighbor centers offering child care and other services for people “commuting” to the office via computer. And Mike had an idea. Why notfranchisethe munytels like McDonald’s hamburger stands? Maybe Xerox will start a Munytel Division.

The “other guy” principle also applies to small businessmen selling to the Xeroxes of this world. If you know how the data-processing people think in a large corporation, you may be more understanding if you’re having problems hooking up to a large customer’s computer.

Likewise, the “other guy” idea can help businessmen keep up with competitors and appreciate their own employees’ computer-related fears.

In short, this book is for people who want to survive—and make money—bylistening.

Ranging over many topics, it may come across as a series of essays rather than a normal guide. So be it. I’m not going to cheat you of helpful facts thatmostreaders won’t care about or that are far removed from the main thrusts of the chapters. You may be desperate for this very material. And items at the ends of the chapters will refer you to “Backup: More Tales and Tips from the Jungle.” “Backup” follows my main book.

BREAK OUT OF THE USERS-GUIDE GHETTO.

You already have.The Silicon Jungleis for owners and prospective owners of Radio Shacks, Apples, IBMs—all kinds of machines.

Dobuy a guide for your model of computer or your pet software program; this book isn’t a replacement.

It offers, however, more detachment than a guide touting the virtues of a single machine. I’ll write about the computer I own—yes, I have my biases—but it’ll be as an example, not as the final answer. Frankly,for graphics work alone, my Kaypro II would not suffice. The screen isn’t good enough. The Kaypro’s electronic brain just is not very visually inclined, and all in all, I’d be far better off doing charts with an Apple Macintosh.

Many good paths wind through the Silicon Jungle.

■ ■ ■

There’s no doubt—the computer businessisa jungle. While I was writing this book, Osborne Computers filed for bankruptcy under Chapter XI. “I’m just devastated,” said Adam Osborne. The previous year, his firm had sold 110,000 portable computers listing at $1,795.

I, too, was sorry he’d failed. Osborne’s was the first company to produce a bargain-priced business computer with good, free software thrown in. If his company hadn’t revived itself under new management, the industry would have offered buyers that much less choice.

Part of Osborne’s problem were his marketing blunders. Also, however, an arch rival, Kaypro, had come out with a better machine. I bought one.

Chapters 2 and 3 tell how Kaypro has fought Osborne and other foes—wars of interest to you, since you’ll win a better deal if you know about micro-makers and the origins of their computers. While this chapter and the next one focus on Kaypros, much in them would apply to other machines.

Most microcomputers don’t emerge from tile-floored laboratories; instead, they come from companies that refine existing technology and carve out niches in the marketplace. But what’s “refine”? High tech is enough of a gamble for the more solid computer makers. Shakier ones can be reckless, and often at customers’ expense. A newspaper perceptively observed, “Computers are hyped before they’re ready, announced before they’re shipped and sometimes outdated and outpriced before they reach retailers’ shelves.”

I’ll try tohelpyou find the machine that’s best for you—not necessarily the one that computer hustlers envision on your desk. Beware:

● In Maryland, a sail maker ended up with a micro useless as anything but an anchor.

● A midwestern company sued a major micro maker for $456,000 because an $8,000 computer allegedly didn’t perform as advertised.

● A construction executive invested over $9,000 in a name-brand computer but could do next to nothing with it, while a colleague was making out fine with a little Zenith micro selling for around half the price.

“I’ve seen too many company presidents march through there hoping to make a final decision in less than an hour,” said a sales manager at a Michigan computer store. “In almost every case he’sended up paying either too much for the right equipment or too little for the wrong equipment.”[2]

Just as important as the hardware—the computers and other machines—are the programs on those plastic disks. In fact, you should even think “software” before you do hardware, because your machine will be useless if it doesn’t do the tasks you want it to. And the programs supply these necessary instructions. More than thirty thousand programs for micros are on the market; soThe Silicon Junglecan’t say which one is exactly right for you, but it can help you find out for yourself by showing how a software classic comes into existence.[3]

I talked to Seymour Rubinstein and Rob Barnaby—the subjects of Chapter 4, “WordStar: The Creators”—and learned that Barnaby and I had some common work habits. Maybe that’s why I like WordStar so much. I feel as if the people behind it used ESP to discover how I liked to move words around on my spooky green screen.

Some complain that WordStar is too complex. I disagree. New versions of WordStar and other programs, however, will become simpler to learn as the machines themselves grow more powerful. The new WordStar 2000 is an example.

Smart production-minded buyers meanwhile should avoid the “user-friendly” software that’s easy to learn but hard to use. One example is the Select, a clunky word processor discussed in Chapter 5 after WordStar. I expressed my loathing with my wallet. Although Select came free with my Kaypro, I junked it. Had I not spent my $250 on WordStar, I would have taken much, much longer to write this book.[4]

In Chapter 6, “Three Software Stories,” businessmen tell how they coexisted—or didn’t—with their software. One of them is the New York real estate executive mentioned earlier. He saved his new employer $200,000 a year by boning up on software and using micros rather than expensive time and an outside company’s mainframe. A Maryland construction executive did well, too. He thinks his software knowledge helped him snare a new job as a company president with one-third interest in the firm. Like the New Yorker, he successfully concentrated on micros as they relatedto his job. Another man, an accountant good at his work but uneasy around computers, offers some observations on the failings of existing software and his difficulties finding the right program.

Graphics will be one of the hotter software topics over the next few years, now that cheap computers can do more visual tricks. And in Chapter 7 and Backup VII, you’ll learn (1) the basics, (2) when charts are worth the trouble, and (3) how to select the best programs in that category. Most existing computer guides are overly technical about graphics, or they just about shun the subject. That’s too bad. Graphics can actually save your company money; computerized charts can help you set priorities and keep your projects on schedule. At times, too, there are other advantages. A little Macintosh won’t replace your art department, but it might enable you to whip up flashy graphs to impress your customers.

Even with the supposedly simple Mac-style machines, however, you may still need a good consultant—one of the topics of Chapter 8, “People.”

He or she can help you select the right software, for instance, or teach you how to use it. But you can’t always trust credentials, and here you’ll read of a young company that wasted $40,000 on the wrong consultants and their bungles. One man was so learned in computers that he had helped design the systems on an aircraft carrier, yet he lacked the exact technical expertise to help the company getitswork done.

My old newspaper in the Midwest made another people-type mistake, letting a computer expert befuddle staffers with technical jargon. A white-haired editor suffered especially. Although he knew his town better than did just about any other newsman and had been a fixture in the scruffy city rooms since World War II, the paper exiled him from the copy desk after the training program failed him. His health gave out amid the strain, and he ended up on extended sick leave, done in partly by the course’s scary talk of bits and bytes. You use a calculator without being—as one man put it—“calculator literate.” Why must you be “computer literate”? Be so if you’re an aspiring programmer or if you enjoy computers as a hobby. If, however, you don’t, well, forget it. Instead, simply concentrate on (1) finding the right experts for the grubby technical chores and (2) helping yourself and your employees learnthe programs of use on the job.

You can also treat people well by guarding against “The Hal Syndrome.” I’ve named Chapter 9 after the uppity computer in2001and2010.

The best weapons against Hal are good, common-sense ones, like viewable screens and easy-to-use keyboards, which can cut down on headaches and backaches. Forget about the white tilesand bright fluorescents you see in traditional computer rooms. They can torture your eyes. As for keyboards, you’ll learn the wisdom of using the detachable kind, which makes it easier for you to be the right distance from both the keyboard and the screen. Why not buy equipment that can adjust to both your eyes and your back? Foreigners caught on to this issue much more quickly than we did; some European firms even sawed the keyboards off American-made terminals. And now U.S. workers are demanding action. “They affected my stomach quite a bit,” a former insurance company worker says of the machines that caused her to quit her job. “Most days I worked I would throw up in the ladies room.” Whether you use micros or big computers, you’ll get more work out of people—and be able to hire better ones—if the equipment is comfortable to use. Still another precaution against Hal is good job design. See if you can rotate your employees’ computer work with other duties to reduce the stress of being at the keyboard all day.

In the Hal Syndrome chapter, you won’t simply read academic wisdom. Instead, you’ll hear about the true health and safety concerns of people working the computer keyboards—eminently valid worries in many cases.

And you’ll read in an accompanying backup about another hot topic in this era of contact between man and machine. It’s themouse, the palm-sized gadget that you push along your desktop to guide thecursor(the little blinking line or other marker that shows where you’re typing on the computer screen).

Some manufacturers love the mouse as a marketing gimmick. And it’s indeed nice for graphics. If you’re a writer or secretary, however, and if you lack three hands, you may be better off mouseless. Why? See BackupX, “Of Mice and Men.”

I’ll also try some candor on another touchy topic—computer crime.

In Chapter 10, “Jewels that Blip,” you’ll learn how to protect your company secrets inside your computer and how to prevent the machines from suffering amnesia and destroying electronic records. Although electronic Willie Suttons exist, your real worries are often mundane. This book won’t keep you from spilling coffee on a floppy disk, but it will tell how, using good software and good habits, you can help ward off both crooks and accidents.

Much of Chapter 10 is about larger computers, and quite logically so. Increasingly, your micros will be talking to mainframes, as the big machines are called, and your facts are only as safe as the electronic repositories where you store them.

Computer security will particularly matter in the era of telecommuting, a subject covered in Chapter 11, “Wired to Work,”which will show you how “electronic cottages” often can be both productive and humane.

A California professor says by 1990 as many as 10 million U.S. workers could be tapping away on keyboards at home. In Chapter 11, you’ll learn how you may be able to “telecommute” within weeks or months if (1) your boss and company are sympathetic and (2) your office politics permit you to do so without harming your career. Why wait for official telecommuting programs from corporate headquarters? Chapter 11 advocates nothing less than a grass-roots telecommuting movement by corporate writers, programmers, salespeople, and working mothers. Toting up the savings that telecommuting can yield, more and more corporations will encourage experiments. Many people—though not all—thrive on it.

“It seems foolish for me to get in a car to go to an office,” said a Washington-area telecommuter, “if I can go to that office by phone.” Without the wear and tear of rush-hour driving he became more productive.

You needn’t telecommute every day. The chapter, in fact, starts with the example of the rush-hour hater who made it a point to keep up with the office crowd in person on occasion.

Chapter 12, “How I Found ‘God’ on MCI (and a Few Other Odds and Ends about Electronic Mail),” tells more about sending computer messages over the phone lines. Some E-mail nets even link up with the old Telex networks. During the writing of this book I corresponded via computer with people ranging from William F. Buckley, Jr., to Captain Zap and the MCI mail-Telex connection transmitted last-minute changes to my publisher.

In Chapter 13, “Net Gain$,” you’ll learn how different computers in your own office can share the same programs and exchange information without people constantly having to carry floppy disks from one desk to another. A Michigan company may be enjoying as much as DLR $1,000 a year more in effective work time from each staffer as a result of its internal computer net.

Of course, with today’s imperfect technology, such hookups can be a real struggle. But so often they’re worth it.

You could say the same, indeed, of micros in general—today and in the future.

It seemed especially true when, for my last chapter, I tried to reach Arthur Clarke’s micro in Sri Lanka. I wanted him to answer questions about microcomputers in 2001—the year in which his Hal was killing humans. Did our phone-computer connection succeed? Read Chapter 14, “As the Jungle Thickens.”

Struggles notwithstanding, computers oftendopay for harried professionals and business people. “This $5,000 machine has savedme from hiring a $20,000-a-year assistant,” said a New York investment adviser using an IBM PC to write reports and make financial calculations at home. A young trader forsook the bedlam at the New York Cotton Exchange for an electronic office in his apartment. Now he can go to work in his bathrobe and delay his shower until lunchtime. “It’s more challenging this way,” he said. “More contemplation, less raw instinct.”[5]

Another self-employed man, Jimmy Carter, composed his memoirs on a word processor—perhaps inspired by the example of a former Carter speech writer who wrote a well-reviewed book on national defense.

Then there’s Isaac Asimov, the legendary science-fiction novelist, who, even with an ancient manual, could write faster than the old Teletype machines could clatter along. But he didn’t always produce the neatest copy. “How different now!” he exulted in an article. “Staring at a page of type on a television screen, I eagerly look for typos so I can have the fun of changing them.” You needn’t be a professional author, however, to benefit from computerized writing. In Maryland, an architect-consultant, once typewriter shy, is now churning out reports several hundred pages long on his IBM PC.

“A boon to the small businessman” is how Hugh Hunt, a son of the late oilman H. L. Hunt, described micros. “Now he can compete with the larger corporations as far as obtaining data and processing it quickly.”

Hunt himself was using portable computers in his land-development business. But he also noted their helpfulness in law:

“Computers are one of the ways that small attorneys can compete with large corporations. By joining a computer bank, they can research briefs and do word processing, just as the large companies can.”

Many Americans apparently shared his views. In 1985, they might buy six million computers for business use, and within two more years, that number might almost double.[6]While I was writing this book, the United States was emerging from the worst economic ordeals since the Great Depression; a few college graduates had been reduced to shopping-bag ladies, but the microcomputer business was still growing, even if at a reduced rate. You might wait three months or more for your Macintosh or IBM. Some companies died, but others took their places; and even in timesof inflation most prices on micros were dropping; years would pass before scientists could no longer keep dramatically increasing the silicon chips’ powers. Forget about the physical smallness of the chips. It was as if the entrepreneurs in Silicon Valley—in exploiting the scientists’ advances—were opening up a vast electronic territory. “The only thing you worry about with computers,” Hunt said, pleased, “is ‘Should I wait until something better comes along?’”

“I’m sort of a computer groupie,” said Art Buchwald, the syndicated humor columnist. He was caught up in the new pornography of the era: those luscious, ad-packed micro magazines crammed with the vital statistics of IBMs and Apples. “It used to be that whenPlayboyarrived at the house, my wife would say, ‘YourPlayboy’s here,’” Buchwald told an advertising magazine. “Now she says, ‘YourInfoWorld’s here.’ I’m not sure which she prefers. I have a feeling thatPlayboy, at least, she could discuss with me.”

It was like radio during the 1920s, this micro craze.

Timehad proclaimed the computer “Machine of the Year” in 1982, and I recalled a song that a friend of my parents, an old woman, had written years ago. “Marconi, Marconi,” the lyrics went, “the world is at your feet.” How long until the novelty of microcomputers seems just as quaint as that of radio? The parallels could be there. Two SanFranciscoFrancisco-area authors, Andrew Fluegelman and Jeremy Joan Hewes, inWriting in the Computer Age, urged readers to “become full-fledged computer citizens—as writers, poets, artists, musicians, programmers, number-crunchers, networkers....” The Fluegelman-Hewes book was useful and well done. But “computer citizens”? The phrase grated. I was a user at the keyboard, a “citizen” in the voting booth.

Still, I could understand why Fluegelman and Hewes called themselves “computer evangelists.” I felt the same way. After having brought us Muzak and junk food, technology for once was making life better.

I say this with reservations. Educators correctly warned of the computer literacy gap between Harlem and Scarsdale—of the dearth of machines in the slums and the bounty in some suburbs. Rich and poor clashed at school-board meetings. In my own county, Fairfax County, Virginia, a well-off PTA reportedly saved up for micros, then withheld purchases until it learned whether the school board would spend tax money helping other schools catch up. And what about unemployment as automation cost more jobs? Or U.S. firms using computer-satellite hookups to pipe in the work of $3-an-hour clerks? The People’s Republic of China was even preparing to sell programming skills to the rest of the world. A billionprogrammers, maybe? So much for high tech as a refuge for the American jobless.

How could you make computerization a joy to all? That was one answer you’d never find in a computer store.

You could, however, set up the right retraining program for valued employees to see them through automation. You could fight the Hal Syndrome. You could work to end boring tasks. In short, you could do your best to make your computers benefit both your employees and your company’s earnings.

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