The night before I said to Steven [Spielberg], whatever you do, if you stop cameras don’t shout-out “cut,” just shout-out “stop cameras,” because I might go and cut the bridge.
This vision of autonomous networks is shaped more by Hollywood cinema than by actual cable operations. In reality, our global cable network is always in a sort of crisis and, at the same time, highly dependent on humans to power the steady flow of information transmissions.
It would perhaps be more precise to say that cables are always in a state of “alarm.” An “alarm,” in network-speak, is anything from an indication that the cable has been severed to a reminder about a needed computer update.
Even if our signals continue to pass through cable systems without delay, the undersea network never quite functions perfectly on its own, that is, without alarm and without human assistance.
When I ask operators about the vulnerabilities of today’s undersea network, many express concerns about downsizing and retirements. They fear that carefully sustained industry knowledge will be lost and that there will be nobody to take their place that will adhere to the same standards of reliability. Recruiting the next generation of workers is difficult. There is no direct path to the industry and it remains largely invisible to the public.
Scattered across the ocean floor in intricate webs, submarine cables transfer high data volumes between onshore nodes. Five main international cables connect Australia to cyberspace and global voice networks. They carry 99% of Australia’s total internet traffic, dwarfing the capacity of satellites. Submarine cables are vital to our communications, economic prosperity, and national security. They also tend to break. A lot.
In most regions of the world this isn’t unexpected, or particularly worrying. Submarine cables aren’t much thicker than a garden hose and for the most part sit untethered and unprotected on the sea floor. Inadvertent breakages from ship anchors, nets and natural phenomena such as undersea earthquakes occur frequently, averaging at least one a week. To mitigate this risk, international agreements between cable operating companies are extensive, repair ships are quickly deployed and traffic is usually rerouted through other cables.
Unfortunately, the situation for Australia is more complicated. Sitting in the Southern Hemisphere, we’re largely isolated from the busy network of Transatlantic and North Asian Cable lines. We’re also unable to use overland fibre optic cables from other countries, leaving us reliant upon just a handful of international undersea cables.
Stewart Alsop, editor for Infoworld magazine in the 1990s eating his words, "Death to the Mainframe," 2001 (Computer History Museum)
I came across a blog post (Wayback Machine link) discussing the 50th anniversary of the IBM System/360, and it mentioned a prediction about the so-called “death of the mainframe.”
I had seen the photo before, of Stewart Alsop literally eating his words “Death to the Mainframe” with a knife and fork, but I had not seen the original quote in print, and I couldn’t find a citation.
Back issues of InfoWorld magazine are online at Google Books, but searches there were not helpful. I kept finding references to the prediction, but not the original statement itself.
The first reference in print to the death of the mainframe by Alsop is in the February 22, 1993 issue of InfoWorld magazine on page 4. The article reads:
Last week, we held the second InfoWorld Editorial EXPOsure, where 35 vendors from the Northwest showed hot new products to 26 of our editors and reporters and more than 70 of our readers (plus an odd assortment of other insiders and cognoscenti).
We also had a fun panel featuring columnists Cheryl Currid and Brian Livingston, along with four of our staff. The panel gave a lively discussion about the role of the mainframe in future information systems. I predicted that the last mainframe will be unplugged on March 15, 1996. Cheryl Currid was a little kinder and predicted that all remaining mainframes will blow up on December 31, 1999, when their clocks cannot figure out how to make the change to the year 2000.
Alsop predicted (jokingly, as I read it) that the last mainframe would be unplugged in 1996 - InfoWorld, February 22, 1993.
Reference for the magazine article:
Alsop, Stewart. “Microsoft’s Hermes: key network management system or myth?” Distributed Thinking, InfoWorld magazine. February 22, 1993. page 4. (article available on Google Books)
This year’s map pays tribute to the pioneering mapmakers of the Age of Discovery, incorporating elements of medieval and renaissance cartography. In addition to serving as navigational aids, maps from this era were highly sought-after works of art, often adorned with fanciful illustrations of real and imagined dangers at sea. Such embellishments largely disappeared in the early 1600s, pushing modern map design into a purely functional direction.
To bring back the lost aesthetic that vanished along with these whimsical details, TeleGeography referenced a variety of resources in the design process. One of the most invaluable was Chet Van Duzer’s Sea Monsters in Medieval and Renaissance Maps book, which provides arguably the most complete history of the evolution of sea monsters and map design from this period. Our final product is a view of the global submarine cable network seen through the lens of a bygone era.
Most interesting about the passage below, is that they’re referring to mainframes right now, not 50 years ago.
"I don't think people realise how often during the day they interact with a mainframe," he said.
Mr Heptonstall said mainframes were behind many of the big information systems that keep the modern world humming and handled such things as airline reservations, cash machine withdrawals and credit card payments.
The machines were very good at doing small-scale transactions, such as adding or taking figures away from bank balances, over and over again, he said.
"We don't see mainframes as legacy technology," said Charlie Ewen, chief information officer at the Met Office, which has been using mainframes for 40 years.
Most significantly, the S/360 ushered in an era of computer compatibility—for the first time, allowing machines across a product line to work with each other. In fact, it marked a turning point in the emerging field of information science and the understanding of complex systems. After the S/360, we no longer talked about automating particular tasks with “computers.” Now, we talked about managing complex processes through “computer systems.”
Interesting how changing the rules of the game has a big impact on the technology used behind the scenes.
The system is a greatly expanded version of one that has reviewed only home run calls since August 2008. Umpires made their decisions by looking at replays on TV monitors at each stadium.
The new system links camera feeds from the 30 ballparks to the operations center. M.L.B. has also installed its own stationary high home plate cameras at each stadium to offer its video officials the best possible view of base runners who might have to be repositioned depending on their decisions.
The system is starting at a time when there are fewer blustery, base-kicking, dirt-tossing managers around. How would Lou Piniella, Earl Weaver or Ozzie Guillen cope with video review?
“They’d get fired up because they didn’t have this kind of tool,” Marinak said. “Now managers have less incentive to go crazy.”
“Your archive is only as good as what you know is in it,” said Elizabeth Scott, M.L.B. Productions’ vice president for programming and business affairs.
It is not only the game action that is tagged. If a squirrel runs onto the field, the play will be tagged with “animal.” If there is a shot of a man sipping a beer, there is a “drinking” option under the “fans” category. Those frequent shots of boats bobbing in San Francisco Bay during Giants games are tagged with “boat.” “Pine tar,” “rosin,” “babies,” “bat boys/girls” and “on-deck circle” have their own notations. So do “fist pump,” “curtain call” and “throw equipment.”