Monday, May 12, 2008
Is Apple's new blue bombshell a hit or a dud? A debate.
Aug 27, 1998 | "Hello (again)," announces the oversize iMac-shaped blimp that hovers over CompuTown in downtown San Francisco. The line is double-edged: It tells us that the new iMac is intended to be as innovative as the original 128K Macintosh was in 1984. But it also reminds the world just how near death Apple has been, and how much Apple is counting on the iMac to restore the luster of its youth.
Die-hard iMac fans are already calling it "The computer that changed everything" and setting up Web rings of fan sites. Will the iMac save Apple -- or is it just a translucent flash in the pan? 21st staffers Janelle Brown and Scott Rosenberg trade looks at the iMac from opposite sides of the fence.
JANELLE BROWN: Beige is dead -- long live Bondi blue. I've been waiting for years for a computer that looked like this -- something cool, something that I could just sit and look at, something that might actually enliven the room instead of simply being an eyesore. The iMac is the first computer I've ever seen worth gushing over.
For years, computer manufacturers have let form follow function -- which has meant a preponderance of rectangular CPUs. The only exceptions have been products not aimed at the mass market, like the SGI Octane or the 20th Anniversary Mac. With the iMac, function follows form: Even the circuit boards, which are visible through that translucent blue plastic, were redesigned to be more aesthetically pleasing and approachable.
And it works. This is a soft computer: From the handle in the back (which allows users to easily pick it up and carry it) to the ridged decorative vents on top, the smooth egg shape and tactile plastic, the iMac is a computer that's designed to be felt. It's translucent enough to give it a space-age appeal, without actually resembling one of those tacky see-through phones. It's pleasingly symmetrical -- right down to the perfectly round, white-and-blue translucent mouse. And blessedly, it's not cluttered by the tangles of cords and ports usually found at the back of a PC. (These have been replaced by one plug, one modem line and a hidden compartment that neatly organizes any other cords.)
Like the new Volkswagen Beetle, those primary-color Nokia cell phones and wedgie platforms, the iMac is decidedly an accessory, not just a functional tool. Of course, that particular kind of cool isn't going to appeal to everyone, and perhaps will look dated after five years -- but who's thinking that far down the line? This is something that young adults will want now. This is the computer that your son will beg for when going off to college, because it will impress his friends. And hooking young computer newbies is exactly what Apple needs to do.
Apple is still pushing the boundaries of computer design like no other company. The iMac harks back to the days before plastic, when ordinary household objects were designed to be beautiful instead of simply functional. If I never have to see a boxy nondescript computer again, I could die happy.
SCOTT ROSENBERG: The iMac "harks back to the days before plastic"? It's interesting that you should say that -- because my first reaction to seeing an iMac in the flesh was a pang of revulsion at its cheesy plastic shell. It looks flimsy and feels cheap -- like it wouldn't survive a drop off a desk. As the first generation of iMacs gets battered in the push and tussle of everyday life, I'm curious to see how well their cases weather -- and what kind of options Apple has provided for repairing or replacing the ugly cracks in their shells that look inevitable.
For some time now, of course, computer manufacturers have been steadily trading in metal for plastic in computer casings; but the iMac is the first computer that revels in its adoption of a 100 percent plastic box. Certainly, there is a place in the world for such a use of materials -- in inexpensive, throwaway products like, say, the Walkman. The iMac looks like the Walkman of personal computing. Too bad it isn't priced that way.
Far from returning us to an era of sound, substantial design, the iMac truly does look forward, to a future in which the computer is a disposable commodity. Now, it's true enough that, thanks to Moore's Law and the rapid pace of development in the technology industry, personal computers are indeed becoming such a commodity. Still, the iMac isn't a $25 Swatch watch, or even a $500 "network computer"; and for my $1,300 I'd like to feel like I've purchased an object with some solidity, some durability and -- dare I say it? -- some class.
Certainly, the boring state of physical design in the computer industry is a shame, and I will gladly congratulate Apple for breaking the mold. I just wish they'd broken it more tastefully and given us a better alternative to the old beige box. Macintoshes have always looked better than PCs -- sleeker and sharper -- but in an understated manner that wouldn't grow wearisome during the five to eight years you could expect to use the computer. I still think the old Mac II and Quadra boxes are things of beauty -- especially compared to the 386 and 486 PC clones they were competing with. Even if I liked the iMac's egglike curves and teal transparency today, I can't imagine living with them for long without yearning for something more timeless. I don't think of purchasing a computer as being like purchasing an "accessory"; it's more like buying a sofa. You want something you won't get sick of in six months.
"Function follows form" sounds nice, but isn't it really just another way of saying that the iMac is all surface? Certainly, Steve Jobs has fired up a buzz around Apple with this new product, and that's a marketing coup to be applauded by all of us who wish to see Apple survive and prosper as an alternative to the Microsoft/Intel universe. But this is a triumph of style over substance -- a victory for colorful packaging. I think we have a right to expect more from Apple.
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