Victor Margolin

I live in a densely-populated downtown Chicago neighborhood. When I moved to the neighborhood six years ago, there was a small local video store within easy walking distance and a large CD emporium, Tower Records, not much farther away. Now there is neither. Tower went down first when the entire national chain collapsed under the weight of voluminous internet downloading. The video store died recently, killed by the ease of getting videos through Netflix. As an alternative, there now stands a big red vending machine at my local supermarket where you can rent action films and kids’ animation for a buck a shot. The latest news on the disappearance front is Amazon’s recent effort to beef up sales of electronic versions of music and books. Jeff Bezos, Amazon’s president, has come up with a reader for electronic books with the odious name of Kindle, and Sony has released a similar device. There is talk that Borders is in trouble and might merge with Amazon, Perhaps both will go down in flames when publishers stop printing books and go digital with everything.

For someone like myself who grew up surrounded by bookstores, record stores and movie theaters this is all hard to take. I have no fundamental problem with digitizing cultural artifacts if it simply provides more choices for consumers. But I feel a deep sense of loss when the commercial spaces where I could once buy the artifacts begin to disappear. I realize that this transformation is largely generational and that I as an older person am on the wrong end of the market. But I also have to wonder why others are so quick to abandon the traditional retail outlets where one could rent DVDs and buy books or music. As a result, the sociability is sapped from the acquisition process. Over the years I have had pleasant chats with people in stores that sell or rent books, videos, DVDs, or records. Sometimes folks made recommendations that I followed. At bottom, however, is the fact that I consider these stores to be social spaces as well as retail outlets. There is also the factor of monopoly. With the demise of local DVD stores, Netflix is the main option for renting them. My neighborhood does not have a Blockbuster, and one of the best DVD rental outlets in the country, Facets Multimedia, is half an hour away. It’s hard to beat the convenience of Netflix but you have to subscribe monthly and there is no option for an impulsive visit to a rental outlet to get a DVD.

If books go the way of music, then we will all be carrying around these horrible metal boxes that promise storage of up to 400 books. Newspapers may not be far behind. They are already in big financial trouble, and the continuation of hard copies is tenuous. I don’t own a laptop and have a difficult time imagining how I would get the same pleasure and convenience from reading an actual newspaper if I had to read it on line while sitting at my computer. The large issue here is the social consequence of changing completely from a material to a digital culture. It’s not only about the loss of artifacts. It’s about a deep change in how we use them. I like the materiality of books. When I can see them physically, I think about them and consult them in ways that I would not if I had to search for them online. The same is true for CDS and vinyl. I enjoy having the actual things around. They are part of the decor in my apartment. I also like to clip articles from newspapers and put them in files for future use. Having them physically available and being able to regroup them and move them from one folder to the next is integral to the way I do research.

What most concerns me is that these changes are happening without any public debate. Commerce is in the driver’s seat. Compared to all the cultured people who had a hand in inventing the book and creating conditions for its use, it is disheartening to see that a Jeff Bezos has enough power to challenge that long tradition of book making with a culture-less technological device that will radically change the way we read and relate to printed matter. As soon as the market is strong enough to support something new, the plugs are pulled on what existed before. When publishers believe that it is more profitable to produce books electronically, they will stop printing hard copies. This is what the philosopher Ivan Illich called a “radical monopoly.” There is no longer any choice of media. The market and those who manage it determine how culture will be distributed.

Yes, this has always been the case but in the past it happened more slowly and less dramatically. There was more time to consider and test new options and reject those that were unfavorable. Now cultural changes are happening at lightning speed with little or no time to reflect on their consequences. And once markets shift, it is almost impossible to turn back, even if the latest innovations turn out to be duds. I am surely not the only person who laments these changes and is saddened by the loss of familiar institutions. Perhaps we who mourn these losses will become a viable subculture that continues to publish and read actual books, buy CDS, and rent DVDs from retail outlets. We might use the web to find each other and cluster in neighborhoods where we can support our habits. We might even be recognized by marketeers as a distinct consumer group whose needs can be catered to. What is certain is that we need to speak up and recount the losses entailed by the mad race to digitize the world.

Victor Margolin is Professor Emeritus of Design History in the Department of Art History of the University of Illinois at Chicago, and a founding editor of DesignIssues.