Since the inception of my design service, it’s fascinating to look back over the years and see just how far the publishing industry—both print and pixel-based—has evolved. I’m afraid I’m “old” enough to know what a stripping flat is. More ironic, I’m old enough to know what an imposition on a rasterized sheet of film looks like. Film? Please! Film is ancient technology.
When one stops to consider what’s in vogue for publishing methods today, it’s clear how aggressively the industry has evolved in the past decade compared to say, the past century. I wonder how many people in the printing industry know who Alois Senefelder and Johann Guttenberg are? I’m not blaming them for their lack historical knowledge, mind you; journalists, publishers, printers and designers today are too busy preparing to catch the next technological curve ball to think too long about stuff like trade roots.
I’ve even heard it said publishing and a good portion of printing axiom itself is on the verge of a metamorphosis—a tectonic shift from paper and ink to electronic readers. I can handle FTP, CTP and POD—but a Kindle? My goodness, what is my beloved publishing industry coming to? The appearance of ordinary ink on paper, but it’s really fancy screen technology, apparently. It’s not entirely new news at the moment, of course; the buzz has been around for some time, but will electronic readers—truly—catch on, or is this an overglorified high tech gizmo fad? Sony and Amazon.com seems to believe in it, at least.
I’ve tested the Kindle out, too. It’s a neat device, without a doubt; lightweight, space and power efficient, and easy on the eyes. Now, can I honestly see myself getting cozy with a Kindle for an evening read? I’m not so certain. There is something for the tactile experience of the texture of pages—and even the scent of them—that makes me like traditional books more, as cool as these electronic readers are.
One must soberly consider the trends of the contemporary age, however. Youth of today is processing, manipulating and navigating data like no other generation preceding it; and it is their collective preference that will ultimately matter. I suppose that when I turn and look at the books on my shelf, they seem like relics even now. My giant dictionaries, hardbacks and complete works of William Shakespeare do look somewhat like a prop in the next Harry Potter film. There does seem something outdated about the tedium of flipping pages, I’ll agree. Jacob Weisberg of the Slate Group, after having experienced the convenience of the Kindle, has been quoted in saying, “Printed books, the most important artifacts of human civilization, are going to join newspapers and magazines on the road to obsolescence.”
Much like film-based cameras, I suspect. Remember those?
Even so, I insist there is something to be said for owning a book versus, say, a download of a book. There is a physical connection I have a hard time parting with in my head. Or is that just a romantic notion? Not entirely, I say. I’d at least insist there is reason in my feelings, when one considers what artifacts of our civilization will remain in the coming centuries. Photos aren’t accessed on film strips or family albums anymore (unless we make the effort to organize and print our terabytes of photo libraries on paper and printing methods that will last); now they reside on compact disks or hard drives. If books are to go the way of the dinosaur as well, what vestiges will remain of our knowledge and experiences, save those locked away in data blocks on a drive or storage media—or worse yet, a “cloud“?
As a designer I feel pretty comfortable creating stuff for either traditional or contemporary mediums. We go where the market goes, essentially, and there is a strong case for the market being stronger than ever before, what with all the empowered self publishing authors we have today, as well as publishing methods. And blogs…who can discount them? Certainly not the journalism industry. Regarding the digital world, I actually prefer working fully integrated in it with all the modern tools of today at my disposal. For all their power, many of us no doubt do see a cautionary note in between the lines of our new media trends. That would perhaps be best illustrated with a comment left by a distraught Kindle user on Amazon’s site. Caught up between upgrades, he apparently lost a fortune of downloaded books and magazines while upgrading from one pricey machine to the latest and greatest version. Poof! Up in “flames”. Reading his unrequited rant, I considered for a moment the irony of it all: in a world increasingly digitized and merged by giant corporate interests, it behooves us to perhaps consider how aptly named the “Kindle” really is.
M