And Suddenly
it Stopped…
Joe was a man of modest means. He lived in a modest home
in a small community on the outskirts of a larger Pacific Northwest
city. Since his retirement from working in a paper mill,
he and his wife of many years got by mostly on their monthly Social
Security checks. Their main source of entertainment was an
older television set that was the centerpiece of their small but
comfortable living room. Each morning, Joe turned on
the television shortly after they had had their breakfast and the
TV stayed on for most of the day until they were ready for their
daily late afternoon outing into town. They enjoyed watching
the game shows and their favorite “soaps”. Their
lives were not inspiring by most standards, but they were adequately
comfortable with what they had.
Then one wintry morning, early in the year 2009, Joe turned on their
television and instead of seeing the usual video, all he saw and
heard was noise. No picture on any channel – just
a jumble of black and white speckles and a loud hissing sound from
the speakers. For Joe and his wife, this was indeed a major
disruption in their routine. What to do? What would
they do all day without a television to keep them entertained? Given
their modest finances, the thought of paying for a service call
was not something that Joe wanted to contemplate. The best
plan he could come up with was to load the television into the
back of his pickup truck and take it to a nearby service shop for
a diagnosis. He remembered seeing one remaining small electronic
repair shop in the older part of town.
The kindly older gentleman who greeted him as he carried his television
into the shop seemed most accommodating. As Joe explained
his problem, a frown and then a smile crossed the older gentleman’s
face. “Joe, I think I can diagnose your problem without
even looking at your set.” “Haven’t
you been watching the news?” Joe had to admit
that the news had little interest for him. Some years ago
he had decided that the world would just have to get along without
his active interest in what the politicians were up to. And
hearing about the latest murders and fires on the evening news
was also not something that appealed to him. So, no, he had
not been watching the news.
“Well, Joe your problem is that, as of yesterday, all the
analog television signals have been turned off. You now must
have a digital television or tuner box to see your favorite shows.” “What
do you mean ‘turned off’? You don’t just
turn off a television station,” responded Joe, somewhat incredulously. “Well,
yes, that is what has just happened. The government mandated
some years ago that all television broadcasts switch to digital
transmission and to new frequencies. The analog signals would
be stopped so that this bandwidth could be used for something else,” explained
the repair shop owner. “What I can do for you
is sell you a digital receiver that will make your analog television
work with the digital signals. Television stations have already
been transmitting these signals for a few years now, but folks
like you didn’t have a need to use them. But as of
today, that is the only way you can receive your programs. The
old transmitters are gone – gone for good.”
All the way home, Joe couldn’t believe what he had heard. He
thought back to the days when he was younger and color television
was introduced. He clearly remembered that the color signals
were compatible with monochrome sets. There was no need to
buy a new television or a new tuner just because a station started
broadcasting in color. The old monochrome sets continued
to work just fine. How could this be that so many years ago,
we were smart enough to develop compatible standards but in this “modern” era
we couldn’t come up with something similar? All
this made Joe feel quite disconnected from this world of new technology,
where compatibility and maintainability were no longer valued. It
not only made him sad but the extra money he now had to spend would
put a real dent into their modest budget. And for what? Just
so he could once again see the same programs he had been watching
every day for the last several years?
Has there ever been a similar situation, where products were purposely
made inoperative by a government decision? The closest
that I can come up with is the introduction of unleaded gas and
the eventual phase-out of leaded gas. However, that is not
really the same, since additives could -- and still can -- be purchased
to allow older vehicles to operate if their engines need the lead
coating to keep the valves from burning.
Television sets have an operating life that can extend well beyond
twenty years. Older TV sets typically are not discarded but
migrate into other rooms of the house or even into the garage for
casual viewing. How many digital tuners are we willing to
buy to keep these older sets operational? I suspect that
we have just created a major disposal problem for ourselves. Maybe
this is good for the economy and perhaps we in the display industry
should be thrilled that this will create additional sales. But
it bothers me that so much still-useful technology and so many
products that have years of operational life left in them will
soon find their way to local dumpsites.
Maybe I have a bit of “Joe” in me as well. I
do like change and the exiting new experiences that technology
can create for us, but at the same time I’m saddened to see
that we are contributing to a world of disposable and unrepairable
products – to be thrown away whenever something stops working
properly. Why can’t we just replace a faulty switch
or lamp instead of having to buy an entire “module”? If
we are going to be concerned about the materials used in our products,
e.g. lead compounds, then should we not be equally concerned about
the waste incurred when we make them virtually impossible to repair? Is
this asking for too much logic from our political leaders? Perhaps
we should categorize that last question as rhetorical.
If you would like to send me your thoughts on what you plan to
do with the extra televisions in your house after 2009, I would
enjoy hearing from you. You can contact me directly from
this site, by e-mail at silzars@attglobal.net,
by telephone at 425-898-9117, or via fax at 425-898-1727.
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