Paper Books Will Never Die
After
eight years of writing about past visions of the future, I've learned to never
make predictions of my own. Nobody knows what the future holds, so unless you
want punk ass kids featuring your dumb ass predictions on some smarmy ass blog
called PaleoFutureFuture or some shit in the year 2065, it's best to keep those
things to yourself. But I'm about to break my own rule because I'm just so damn
confident in my prediction: Paper books will never completely disappear.
Okay,
I'm going to almost immediately hedge and say that I can't get behind the
concept of "never." Never is a long time. So for lack of a better way
to measure, how about we call it within your grandkids' lifetime? Because after
your grandkids are dead nobody you know or care about will still be alive. That
puts us at about a century out. And since I've got maybe 30 or 40 good years
left on this planet if I'm lucky, a century is basically forever for me.
So
how can I be confident that paper books are going to be with us for a long time
to come? First of all, because they're lovely and I refuse to believe they'll
ever disappear. But also because paper books are still a fantastic and
irreplaceable piece of technology.
College
students overwhelmingly prefer deadtrees to e-textbooks. In a recent survey, a
whopping 92 percent
said that paper books allowed them to concentrate better. And it's easy to see
why! Your deadtree Chemistry book doesn't have the siren song of Twitter or
Facebook calling you from the digital rocks.
Believe
it or not, paper book sales have made a modest comeback
in the past year. Ebooks are mainstream. But paper books have too many benefits
to simply die out anytime soon.
Paper
books aren't hindered by DRM or evolving media storage standards* or a need for
electricity that'll turn your Kindle into a nice paperweight when that nuclear
EMP blast finally hits and we're all bringing our kids to the burned out husk
of a library to show them what the Before Times were like. Paper books sit on
the shelf and mind their own fucking business like they should.
Even
short of the more apocalyptic scenarios one can dream up, paper books still
serve a purpose and will for the foreseeable future. And anyone who disagrees
is almost certainly buying into myths about tech adoption
that have poisoned the national discourse about progress
for far too long.
It's
so easy to think of technological media progress in linear terms. As I
mentioned in my post earlier this week about the long forgotten experiments of
radio faxpapers, the popular narrative goes
something like this: First there were newspapers, then radio made them
obsolete, then TV made radio obsolete, and then the web made TV obsolete. This
is generally how we prefer to understand the evolution of mass media. But, of
course, it's dead wrong.
We
still have newspapers, radio, and TV. But with the emergence of each new
technology, those older modes were forced to adapt-to refocus on the features
that new technologies couldn't offer. It happened for newspapers, radio, and
TV, and it's happening for books printed on paper and bound together. That's
not to say that ebooks aren't superior in some ways. Rather, that one mode of
technology has sharpened the utility of another.
"In
the future no book will ever be out of circulation," Nathaniel Lande, a
New York publishing consultant, told the New York Times in 1991. Which is a
fantastic dream, and a great reason to embrace ebooks. The cost of distribution
for electronic media borders on nothing. And digitization will certainly help
preserve culture, save nuclear annihilation.
But
the battle between paper books and ebooks isn't a zero sum game, even though we
tend to imagine technological progress as an endless war between mediums that
can only have one victor. In reality, it's more like a stew in which each
ingredient is being constantly, subtly redefined by the others.
Paper books and ebooks are each distinct modes of technology, with
distinct strengths and weaknesses. They can co-exist in harmony and almost
certainly will forever. And rest assured that if they don't, some
punk ass blogger will take great pleasure in telling me how wrong I am. Stupid
punk ass bloggers.
*Remember
all those firewire hard drives you bought that are now sitting in a drawer
somewhere like a time capsule from 2002?