Hanging in my garage is a canvas tote bag that holds my mask, fins and snorkel. The bag is circa 1979 from Teletronics in New York, and served as an advertisement for the Squeezoom. It features a cartoon-like drawing of a building and its occupants, and lists the extraordinary, revolutionary things one could now achieve. The Squeezoom could squeeze, pan, zoom, and (not really) so much more!
Today, in what is clearly a "middle-age moment," nostalgic memories surface, and I think back to the excitement the Squeezoom once stirred. I hold this memory in sharp contrast to the nonchalant reaction of our clients and employees—and myself—toward adding our latest non-linear compositing and editing suite. This new marvel was quietly and unceremoniously installed by our engineer a few weeks ago. Alone in the suite, sans the eager throngs that waited to see the Squeezoom work, a lone engineer made the final connections. With a few taps of a stylus, he declared it working, and crossed one more thing off his daily to-do list.
This system does more than the entire suite that Squeezoom was just a part of, in far better quality, and probably cost half of what the Squeezoom alone cost back then. Yet, there is no unbridled enthusiasm from our account executives, or even the line of engineers and technocrats. No one is lining up to honor this technical marvel, and not one of my management team has rejoiced in this addition. In fact, our CFO still has doubts about things like ROI, and so help me God, I think someone already used it as an end table to rest their coffee and donut on! The only people who seem genuinely eager and impressed are those fortunate few who will get to ply their craft on this newly upgraded system.
It makes me wonder—are we all so awash in technology that we just cannot be impressed any further? Have we all seen so many advances that we believe we have reached a finish line? Or has the R&D sector of our business failed to create something that can truly stimulate all of us again? Are the manufacturers supposed to generate the boxes that make the unimaginable possible, or are our artists supposed to be begging for a box that will satisfy their latest fantasy?
Like all of you, I am quick to point out that there is no box or program that can create taste, style or good principles of design. I believe the creativity and talent of the people are the cornerstones of all we do. But I have to tell you—I always got energized watching those very people push new technologies in previously unimagined directions. Didn’t you? Isn’t that one of the ways we maintained our passion for this business? Did we all reach our technological fill back in the early ’80s, after some artist/engineer/mathematician in our company emerged from the edit room having built the perfect cube in only 28 consecutive hours?
I need a fix! Where are my R&D peddlers? When will we see the next quantum leap of technology happen? Please somebody build me a box that not every high school can afford to buy six of, that will propel and inspire artists and engineers alike, that will create a well-earned and completely justifiable buzz! Wouldn’t it be great to rekindle the very first loves we had in this business?
I don’t know; maybe I am wrong. Maybe we don’t need any new technology. Maybe we have gone too far already! Maybe all we really need is a wonderfully designed canvas tote that can last 23 years in my garage.
