A review of PCs from tablet perspective

I had the opportunity to try several of the PC-type tablets that are now on the market. Wow, they are very different from the standard tablet. Here is my review.

I tried a Lenovo ThinkPad Edge "laptop", a Dell Inspiron "desktop", and an Apple MacBook "laptop". For the ThinkPad and Inspiron, I used Microsoft Windows 7 and Ubuntu Linux. The MacBook ran Apple's MacOS.

I'm not sure where to begin with my review. The "PC experience" is quite different from the normal experience of a tablet.

The first difference is the size. PCs come in two basic styles: desktop and laptop. The laptop is similar to a tablet with a Bluetooth keyboard, except somewhat heavier. The keyboard is physically attached, which I found odd. I initially thought this was for protection (the keyboard is hinged and folds over the screen) and convenience in travelling (you won't lose the keyboard) but later I found that the real reason was quite different - various hardware is built under the keyboard, and wires connect the central circuitry to the screen.

The laptop flavor of a PC should really be called "desktop", since the only practical way to use it is on a desktop. One cannot separate the keyboard, and balancing the keyboard and screen on your lap is awkward at best. Both the Lenovo and the Apple PCs used this design.

The desktop version (the Dell Inspiron, but a quick survey shows that all brands use this design) is also incorrectly named. The screen is large -- too large to be portable. It requires its own stand, which places the screen at a comfortable viewing angle. (Most PC screens allow the use to adjust the height and viewing angle.) The desktop PC also includes a keyboard, one that is connected to the unit with a cable.

The name "desktop" is wrong because in addition to the screen and keyboard there is also a separate, large box that must be attached to the screen. (The keyboard connects to this box, not the screen.) This large box belongs not on a desktop but on the floor, and the users I talked with indicated that they all stored this box on the floor.

The desktop version of the PC is not portable. The combination of the large screen, separate keyboard, and large "processor" box are too cumbersome to carry. In addition, the screen and processor box both require power from 120VAC, and neither have the capability for battery operation.

The laptop versions of the PC are somewhat portable. They can fold for carrying, and they have battery for some use. (The manufacturers claim six to eight hours; users I spoke with indicated three to five hours. My tests fell in line with users.)

The next big differences one notices are the screen, keyboard, and touch interface. The screen is large, with ample real estate for displaying apps. The keyboards are physical keyboards, not on-screen keyboards (in fact there is no support for on-screen keyboards). Physical keyboards took some getting used to, since the keys do travel and provide excellent tactile feedback. But being physical, they cannot change to reflect different modes or languages, with the result being more keys to handle special symbols and indicators to show "caps" mode. (There were some keys with unusual names such as "Print Screen", "Scroll Lock", and "Pause", but I found no use for them. Perhaps they are for future expansions?)

Another noticeable difference is that the screen does not support touch. This was frustrating, as I kept touching the screen and waiting for something to happen. After a few seconds, I realized that I had to use the keyboard or a touchpad (or mouse -- more on that later).

The Lenovo and Apple laptops came with built-in touchpads. These are small (3" by 4") pads below the keyboard that let you control a small "cursor" on the screen. The cursor is normally shaped as an arrow pointing in the north-by-northwest direction (some modes change this shape) and you can move the cursor by touching and swiping on the touchpad. Since the touchpad is relatively far from the screen, this design requires the ability to touch the pad while you look at the screen -- something that I suspect few people will want to learn.

The desktops did not use a touchpad, but instead had an extra device called a "mouse". (Where did they get that names?) It is a small, roughly half-sphere, object that one drags on a flat surface. It too, controls a "cursor" on the screen, and it was harder to use than the touchpad! Proper use requires looking at the screen and holding the mouse off to the side, again using coordinated actions without looking at one of your hands. I found that my desk at home was a bit small for such a computer; I kept dragging the mouse off the edge of the desk.

The PC is not a complete disaster. All units I evaluated had a cable for internet access. I had to physically connect the units to my home router (finally understanding why it had those "extra" ports) and network access was fast and consistent. The Apple and Lenovo PCs (the laptops) also supported the standard wi-fi connections.

PCs have enormous memory, and apps can take advantage of it. My evaluation units all came with 4GB of RAM, which is small for PCs. This leads to apps that are much larger and more complex. More on apps later. RAM is temporary storage and not the usual memory we think of in tablets.

PCs also have enormous storage. which is the equivalent of a tablet's normal memory. My evaluation units came with 300GB to 500GB! The sheer amount boggles me. (Although to be honest, I'm not sure why one needs so much storage. With the fast and reliable network connection, one could easily push data to servers, without using local storage.)

A few more things about hardware, before I move on to operating systems and apps: PCs have lots of ports for accessory devices. Perhaps this is a result of their size; they can afford the space for circuitry and jacks. The PC seems designed for external hardware; the keyboard and "mouse" must be connected through these ports.

The laptop units had built-in forward-facing cameras, the desktop PCs had no cameras. Desktop PCs can have cameras as an extra device (using one of the ports).

None of the units had accelerometers, compasses, or GPS antennae. For the "desktop" units, that makes sense as they are made to be stationary. I'm not sure why they were omitted from the "laptop" PCs which theoretically could move, and certainly have the space for them.

I tried three operating systems: Microsoft Windows, Apple MacOS, and Ubuntu Linux. All are quite similar, and all are significantly different from the typical tablet operating system.

The Lenovo and Dell computers came with Windows 7 pre-installed. The Apple came with Apple MacOS pre-installed. I installed Linux on the Lenovo and Dell, using a technique called "partitioning". This technique lets you allocate the PCs storage between the two operating systems. (With 300GB of storage, there is a lot to go around.)

A "partitioned" system presents a menu when started, letting you select which operating system you want. The menu has a twenty-second timeout, starting Ubuntu if you take no action. (I think that this is configurable.)

All three PC operating systems use a desktop metaphor. The main screen contains icons for apps, and you start an app not by touching the icon (remember, the screen doesn't support touch!) but by dragging the mouse cursor to an icon and double-clicking on it.

With the large screen, apps don't fill the entire screen but take only a portion of it. The app displays a "window" (a term used by all three operating systems, not just Microsoft Windows) and you can run several apps at the same time. This is a nice feature of PCs, as you can see the status of multiple apps at the same time. (Although too many apps at once can be overwhelming.)

The smaller-than-screen size of apps also lets you move app windows on your "desktop". A complicated sequence of moving the mouse, pressing and long-holding a button, moving the mouse while long-holding, and then releasing the button lets you move windows on the screen. This lets you arrange apps you your liking and move important apps to prominent locations.

The different operating systems had different ideas about app purchases. Linux has a store for selecting and purchasing apps, much like a typical tablet. Apple MacOS has an "App Store" but many apps are not available though it and must be purchased separately. For Microsoft's Windows 7, all apps must be purchased separately. I found the Linux arrangement the most friendly, since there is one place to go for apps. [Edit: I later learned that in Linux you can also download apps from other sources.]

The lack of a central store for apps leads to another difference: updates. Without the central store to coordinate versions of apps, each app must check for its own updates. I can't imagine why anyone would want to distribute software without the infrastructure of an app store; doing so requires duplicating code to check versions, download updates, and apply updates in every app! It seems to put a large burden on the app development team (and the testing team).

All three operating systems handled updates for themselves. Windows, MacOS, and Linux all automatically found, downloaded, and applied updates. Ubuntu Linux, with its store, considered the OS update to be "just another update" and bundled it into a list with app updates. Windows and MacOS handled OS updates and did nothing for apps. (I suspect the MacOS app store would handle updates for apps, but I had none during my evaluation.)

PC apps tend to focus on office work, and given the hardware, this is no surprise. The physical keyboard excels at text entry, and the lack of geolocation services removes a number of apps from the PC's repertoire. An app such as FourSquare is not possible without location services, and Facebook is limited without a camera.

In conclusion, I find the idea of the PC misguided: its powerful hardware is torn between local applications (processor and storage) and normal service-based apps (reliable and fast network). The absence of touch support for the screen and the physical keyboard pushes one to text-oriented data, and the clumsy touchpad (or even worse, mouse) pushes one away from UI operations. Forcing users to hunt down apps without a central store places a burden on the users. Forcing apps to update themselves places a burden on developers.

The ultimate desktop OS

The phrase "ultimate desktop OS" is inspiring and attention-getting. While we might think that the "ultimate" desktop operating system is an unreachable dream, it is possible that it can exist, that it does exist, and that we have seen it.

That ultimate desktop operating system may be, in fact, Windows 7.

It is quite possible that Windows 7 is the peak of desktop operating systems. Its successor, Windows 8, is geared for tablets, not desktops. (And now you see why I have been carefully using the phrase "desktop operating system".)

Some might argue that it is not Windows 7 that is the "bestest" operating system for desktops, that the award for "best desktop operating system" should go to Windows XP, or perhaps Ubuntu Linux 10.04. These are worthy contenders for the title.

I won't quibble about the selection.

Instead, I will observe that desktop PCs have peaked, that they have reached their potential, and the future belongs to another device. (In my mind, that device is the tablet.)

Should you dispute this idea, let me ask you this: If you were to build a new app, something from scratch (not a re-hash of e-mail or word processing), would you build it for the desktop or for the tablet? I would build it for the tablet, and I think a majority of developers would agree.

And that is why I say that desktop operating systems have peaked. The future belongs to the tablet. (And the cloud, for back-end processing.)

If tablets are the future -- and I believe that they are -- then it really doesn't matter that Microsoft releases a new version of Windows for desktops. (Who gets excited when IBM releases a new version of MVS?) Yes, some folks will welcome the new version of Windows, but they will be a minority.

Instead of new versions of Windows, we will be looking for new versions of iOS and Android.

A keyboard just for me

We've had the QWERTY keyboard for ages. I learned to type on a real, honest-to-goodness manual typewriter with the QWERTY layout. I learned to program in BASIC on a Teletype ASR-33 (with a QWERTY keyboard), and 8080 assembly on a Heathkit H-89 (with a QWERTY) keyboard. All of these devices had the keyboards built in, part of the device itself.

The IBM PC came with a QWERTY keyboard (at least in the US). Unlike the previous devices, it had a detachable keyboard, and one could replace it with a different layout. (Not that many people did.)

I am sure that some folks still use the Dvorak layout. Some have called for a new standard.

With the invention of the smartphone and the tablet, we now have virtual keyboards. They appear on the display and are composed of programmable bits.

It strikes me that we don't really need a standard keyboard layout. When keyboards were physical things, hard-wired to the main device, a standard layout made sense. (Even when keyboards were mechanical components of manual typewriters, a standard layout made sense.) Physical keyboards could not be changed, and a standard let people easily move from one device to another.

With virtual keyboards we can create individual keyboards and let them follow us from device to device. When keyboards are programmed bits on a screen, it is easy to program those bits for our preferences. We don't need a standard keyboard that everyone agrees to use; better to have our custom keyboard to appear when we use the device.

Those custom keyboards can be any layout. They can be QWERTY. They can be Dvorak. They can be Dextr. They can be any of the above with slight changes. They can be wildly different. They can be programmed with additional keys for characters and glyphs outside of our normal set. (While I use the US layout, I often write the name "Mylène Farmer" and I need the accented 'è'.)

Beyond characters, we can add commonly used words. Android devices often add a key for ".com". We could add custom keys for e-mail addresses. When writing code, we could have special keyboards with keywords of the language ('if', 'while', etc.). Keyboards might interact with development environments. (We see something of this with the smart matching that suggests words as we type.)

I see little need to stay with the QWERTY layout. (Designed, long ago, to prevent people from typing too quickly and jamming the mechanical keys in a manual typewriter.)

Let my keyboard layout be mine!

Why the Microsoft tablet for Windows 8 is significant

This past week Microsoft  announced a tablet for Windows 8.

Microsoft has a checkered history of hardware. Their successful devices include the Kinect, the XBOX, the "melted" keyboard, and the Microsoft Mouse. Failures include the Zune and the Kin, and possibly the Surface. Many people want to know: will the tablet be a success or a failure?

This is the wrong question.

Microsoft had to release a tablet. The market is changing, and the rules of the new market dictate that vendors provide hardware and software.

Microsoft must succeed with the tablet. Perhaps not this particular tablet, but they must succeed with *a* tablet, and probably several tablets.

The old PC market had a model that separated hardware, operating systems, and applications. Various vendors built PCs, Microsoft supplied the operating system, and multiple (non-hardware) vendors supplied application programs. In the early days, one purchased an IBM PC and PC-DOS (supplied to IBM by Microsoft), and Lotus 1-2-3 and WordPerfect. Once manufacturers figured out ways of (legally) building PC clones, one could buy a PC made by IBM, or Compaq, or Dell, or a host of other companies, but the operating system was supplied by Microsoft.

People who are knowledgeable of the history of computing will recognize that the separation of hardware and software originates in an anti-trust lawsuit against IBM, for mainframe software of all things. Yet that decision influenced the marketing arrangements for the original IBM PC, and those arrangements (software separate from hardware) influenced the entire PC market. (To be fair, the pre-IBM PC market had similar arrangements: Radio Shack TRS-80 computers, Apple II computers, and others let you add software -- any compatible software -- to the computer.)

That model endures with today's desktop and laptop PCs. We buy the PC, an operating system (usually Windows) is included, and we add our separately-acquired software. That software may come from any source, be it another company or our internal development shop. We are responsible for configuration and upkeep, and for problems due to incompatible software.

Apple, with the iPhone and iPad, uses a different model: they supply the hardware and the operating system, and while other vendors supply the applications, Apple limits the freedom of users to select application providers. With iTunes, only those apps approved by Apple can get onto an iPhone or iPad. Users cannot select any application, or any provider, or even have them custom-written. They must go through iTunes (and therefore Apple).

The phrase for this arrangement is "walled garden". The environment is a pretty place, but one cannot leave easily. The vendor has erected a wall around the garden, and occupants must remain within the constructed garden.

Walled gardens, especially in tech, have a downside. When leaving one garden for another, one often loses content. You can buy a dozen books for your Kindle. Buy a replacement Kindle and your books are available. Buy instead a Nook, and your books are not available. Barnes and Noble knows nothing about your purchases with Amazon.com, and Amazon.com has no incentive to make it easy (or even possible) to transfer your purchases to another device. While we can leave the garden, we do so only by  leaving things behind.

This walled garden model is used by game consoles. Games are made specific to consoles; the XBOX version of "Diablo 3" will run only on XBOX systems, not on Playstations. If you purchased an XBOX and lots of games, and then you decide to switch to the Playstation console, you don't get all the games available in their Playstation form.

We are entering an age of walled gardens. Apple has their iPhone/iPad garden, Amazon.com has theirs, Barnes and Noble is building theirs. With the introduction of the Microsoft tablet, we can see that Microsoft is building theirs. Google has built some infrastructure with Google Docs and the Chromebook laptop/browser.

This new age of walled gardens, of separate kingdoms, requires developers, users, and companies to make choices.

Developers must select the platforms to support. They can focus their efforts onto a limited number of platforms, or they can develop for all of them. But development for each platform requires tools, skills, and time. A large company can invest in multi-platform efforts; a small company with limited resources must choose a subset, possibly forgoing revenue from the omitted market segment.

Users must select their platforms carefully. The cost of changing is high, much higher than changing from a Dell PC to an Asus PC, or changing from a Ford to a Chevy.

Companies must select their platform. They have done so in the past, usually picking Microsoft, the safe choice. (How many times have you heard the phrase "we're a Microsoft shop"?) But now the choice is riskier; there is no safe choice, no one dominant provider (and no one provider that appears ready to become dominant). A company's success will depend not only on its talent and ability to execute business plans, but also upon the success of its platform. A company may do well in its market, yet fail when its technology provider fails.

These are difficult decisions, and they must be made. One cannot defer the selection of platforms; others in the world are moving to new platforms.

To wait is to be left behind.