There is a good business idea in this article of speculative fiction, which was written by an MP in Denmark:
Welcome to 2030. I own nothing, have no privacy, and life has never been better
Once in awhile, I will choose to cook for myself. It is easy — the necessary kitchen equipment is delivered at my door within minutes. Since transport became free, we stopped having all those things stuffed into our home. Why keep a pasta-maker and a crepe cooker crammed into our cupboards? We can just order them when we need them.
Well, why not? All my tools, which used to take up space in my house, now live at a makerspace, where they can be used by other people during the great majority of the time that I am not personally using them. How many kitchen appliances – or even just pots and pans – could be similarly homed elsewhere, if it could be assured that I could have them delivered whenever I actually needed to use them?
I cook a full meal for guests once a week. I cook a little bit, for myself, a handful of other times a week. The only pieces of kitchen equipment which are reliably used every single day in my house are the kettle and the coffee press. Yet the kitchen – which takes up about a quarter of one floor in the building I call home – is largely comprised of storage space, much of which serves to contain objects that are used at most once or twice a month.
Well, why not store it somewhere else? There are already banquetting services which will deliver a flat of glassware or plates or whatever if you are going to host a dinner party, and then pick them up again afterward. Why not do the same with boxes full of pots and pans, or with specialized hardware like a slow-cooker, a fondue pot, a panini press, or a waffle maker? I don’t own any of those objects and so I never cook the foods they are designed for, but I totally would if I could just have one dropped off whenever I needed it, without needing to purchase it, own it, and store it afterward.
Comments Off on Welcome to 2030. I own nothing, have no privacy, and life has never been better
The ‘hacker ethic’ has been a significant influence on my philosophy of life; I’d feel pretentious actually calling myself a “hacker”, but I certainly identify with the ethos. I was all primed to cringe and react when I started reading this transcript of a talk which takes a critical view on the subject, but it turned out to be thoughtful, clearly articulated, and… important.
Programming is Forgetting: Toward a New Hacker Ethic
I often try to pull a representative quote that gets at the gist of an article, but this time I’m just going to say: go read it.
I do want to quote one bit, though. I’m five years older than the author, and my references are slightly different, but this is my story too:
Hackers the book relates mostly events from the 1950s, 60s, and 70s. I was born in 1981, and as a young computer enthusiast I quickly became aware of my unfortunate place in the history of computing. I thought I was born in the wrong time. I would think to myself I was born long after the glory days of hacking and the computer revolution. So when I was growing up I wished I’d been there during the events that Levy relates. Like I wish that I’d been been able to play Spacewar! in the MIT AI lab. I wished that I could’ve attended the meetings of the Homebrew Computer Club with the Steves, Wozniak and Jobs. Or work at Bell Labs with Kernighan and Ritchie hacking on C in Unix. I remember reading and rereading Eric S. Raymond’s Jargon File (Many of you have probably seen this. I hope some of you have seen that list.) on the Web as a teenager and consciously adopting it as my own culture and taking the language from the Jargon File and including it in my own language.
This feeling, this perception of myself as having just missed the part of the computing revolution I really admired and wished I could have participated in, has shaped the broad structure of my career. Up and up, the towers of abstraction have gone, while I have furiously dug deeper downward, trying to master these machines at the level my childhood heroes did. Well… I’ve gotten there, I suppose, but in the meantime the industry has gone elsewhere; the problem is that I have a hard time caring about most of what it’s busy doing. My basic model for the kind of computing work that is most important and most worthy of attention continues to be shaped by the example set in the ’70s and early ’80s.