Analog counterattack b From the Silicon Valley Moleskine Frenzy to the Amazon Online Bookstore
Amazon is the birthplace of new analogue trends that shaken culture, Did you have an offline bookstore? (5 prints) - Why did Silicon Valley leaders fall into Molskin notes? (2 sheets of paper) - Analog clock that Obama loves, how was revived by cinolin? (7 days) - Why did Lady Gaga return LP records instead of streaming services? (1 sheet record) - story of teenagers who are enthusiastic about turntable and film camera! (3 films) - Can iPad replace teachers? (8 chapters)
Daily life of millennium generation that makes coding during the day and homemade beer at night! (Silicon Valley, Chapter 9)
Digital Life becomes a permanent reality Now, a new face of analog has started to become popular. Technology entrepreneurs and younger generations are consciously choosing analog products and ideas instead of convenient, familiar digital technology (never before experienced it). Why is it that hot interest and investment are pouring back into analogs that are economically, temporally, and mentally costly? David Sachs, who has been a columnist and keeps track of changes in business and cultural trends, from the Milan Design Week to the record factory in Nashville, USA, Analog counterattack to explore the scene. He sees the core of change based on his excellent observation ability and compiles various reports of consumer psychology, business administration, and related industry front to show the limits of digital life and the possibility and future of the analog world that exists outside of it.
David Sax is a journalist, writer, and keynote speaker specializing in business and culture.
David's latest book, The Revenge of Analog: Real Things and Why They Matter looks at the resurgence of analog goods and ideas, during a time when we assumed digital would conquer all. It's available in various formats, but especially in paper, and was a Washington Post Bestseller. David's first book, Save the Deli: In Search of Perfect Pastrami, Crusty Rye, and the Heart of Jewish Delicatessen and won a James Beard Award for writing and literature, as well as other awards and the praise of deli lovers everywhere. His second book is The Tastemakers: Why We're Crazy for Cronuts but Fed Up with Fondue, which is chronicles how food trends emerge, grow, and ultimately make a difference in our world.
In April 2020, he will publish The Soul of An Entrepreneur: Work and Life Beyond the Startup Myth, which examines the meaning of entrepreneurship and working for yourself.
Focusing each chapter on a specific company helps narrow the focus on larger industries to useful, specific anecdotes, but has the unfortunate effect of sounding like breathless advertisements for said company. "The Revenge of Paper" is twenty pages of shilling for Moleskine. Other chapters aren't much better: the resurgence of physical goods felt like less to do with the so-called revenge of analog and more due to the application of clever advertising strategies. Not once but several times, Sax comes right up to the realization that the "revenge" of analog products has much to do with the acquisition of them as status symbols and then... is too unaware to process this? Doesn't think it's worth discussing?
Throughout the book are quotes like "Print [...] had become a luxury item", and "Books are an aspirational consumer product". Sure, of course. As technology (or nearly anything else) becomes more affordable and commonplace, the goalposts of wealth and status shift. There's a strong socioeconomic factor re: what is marketed as desirable. That's surely worth some consideration; at the very least, it's not negligible. This book repeatedly skates right by that. There are some relevant insights on how analog methods differ from digital ones in the work and education chapters, but for the sections on consumer products, the answer to the title - why analog matters - seems largely to be "because it's what cool (rich) people do". Obviously, there are differences between digital and analog. Obviously, there are pros and cons for each, and the human brain handles data from different sources... differently. If you're not going to delve into the science or psychology of this topic, and are instead trying to argue for analog as a way to increase one's social cachet, then at least engage with or even bother to identify that core premise. Sax's failure to do either made Revenge of Analog a nonstarter for me.
(The last chapter of this book, "The Revenge of Summer", centers around a tech-free summer camp that the author mentioned attending as a child. In 2017, the 7-week program costs nearly nine thousand dollars. Such people may well attribute the comeback of, e.g., vinyl records, to factors like nostalgia and having a physical collection, instead of *cough* unimportant factors like a.) physical space for storage, b.) money!!!, c.) leisure time to procure and play their finds, and d.) who has the capability to have A-C.)
This one was an interesting read about the cancer-spreading nature of our unified reliance on ever-evolving technology. Some parts do drag a tad (like the parts about paper and online storefronts shipping orders), but there is a lot to enjoy here. Side note: I've noticed many reviewers slamming the writer of this book, and I just have to wonder why that is. In my eyes, he's not pushing an agenda on anyone! I feel like the people who get upset about books exploring this important topic are closet addicts to their devices and it's hard for them to realize just how bad they've become. Denial is a hell of a drug. I totally get it. Really, I do!
Anyway, there were several sections of The Revenge of Analog: Real Things and Why They Matter that intrigued me greatly. And said sections still do provoke thought and reflection. I found the area about film in all its variations to be especially enjoyable. Also the board game chapter discussing their surprising rise back to prominence was a pleasant highlight. An honorable mention goes to the dissection of vinyl's relevance in mainstream music culture nowadays. For me, this book will be even more amusing to read in about twenty years—that is, if I am lucky to live that long—when we all become bigger addicts/slaves to our digital time-killers (in whatever shape they may take); not to mention the amusement I gather visualizing our upcoming text neck issues that are surely bound to surface in droves. Maybe authorities are going to put a stop to all that since they're now passing laws banning you from looking down at your phone whilst crossing the street. I'm not being sarcastic; it's a real thing happening in Honolulu. Don't believe? Read (!): http://www.cnn.com/2017/07/29/us/smar...
How laughably INSANE is that? It's gotten so prevalent (and so dangerous) that they've actually had to enact a law on our growing addiction—and our growing preference—to gazing downward to a precious, glassy distraction. Wild! While it's true that we may have more options at our disposal and more convenience is presented so rapidly to us in every facet of our daily lives now, I pose but just one question to you: do we really have it any better than the other less-distracted generations who went without such frivolous and shallow perks? In a way, it makes me kind of sick to think about how spoiled we are as a society these days. It's only getting worse, too. Not better. Never better! We take every throwaway luxury for granted more often than not. And that's the confounding problem in and of itself—the widespread desensitization to electronic elation. But what's more intoxicating to the lonely than a smartphone screen in the evening? Nothing; that's what, honestly.
Suddenly I'm feeling a little verklempt. Type amongst yourselves...I'll give you a topic.
The Internet is neither an inter nor a net. Discuss.
The personality of the author (sensed through his comments) was close to unpleasant. I managed to go through about 1/2 of the book and returned my digital audio file back to the library as soon as i reached the spot where the author described how he returned shoes to a store in one year after wearing them... Somewhat interesting were chapters on board game renaissance and romantic experience of writing in moleskine notebooks. The reason i picked up the book in the first place was my surprise. Who needs analogue (physical clutter) in the age of mobility and minimalism? After receiving all the arguments, i am still holding to my initial opinion - majority moved on, only special niche markets (consisting likely of those that are too rich, spoiled and bored) are willing to occasionally entertain themselves with something "different" from the current flow. I personally love fabric stuff made in patchwork technique and a lot of niche books are published on the topic. It does not mean, though, that mass home-sewing is returning. Niches are niches, always were, always will be. Globalization and Internet will be able to support such businesses with no problems. Overall, i did not find deep/clever/interesting insights but did hear enough to understand that the author is actively looking for personal investment opportunities and selling some parts of the research to the public in the form of a book.
Subject-wise, the book was intriguing.... but for some reason, the tone of the writing just didn't resonate with me. I felt that, if this book and I were at a party, and we were having a conversation, it would be one of those awkward conversations where I would feel like I'm being lectured to and I would have to feign interest and nod my head like I'm listening, but really I would be coming up with a way to get out of the conversation.
This book would make a great article in the New Yorker, or the Sunday NYT magazine. Just the intro, a few paragraphs from the 1st chapter, a few paragraphs on education/tech failure, and a good bit from the epilogue.
Everything else?
GARBAGE
I don't know know how many times I said to myself after finishing some grandiose pronouncement by this author with: No, actually that is not how it works, or how it happened.
Time and time again, this author took bits of information, and jammed it into his predetermined narrative, and if it did not fit nice and neatly, he just glossed right over it with some grand pronouncement.
GARBAGE
I found the bit on Ron Johnson, and how he treated this guys story as a perfect encapsulation of how this author selectively uses data and completely ignores data that does not bolster his thesis.
He brags about how Ron Johnson came up with the Apple Store and the Genius Bar and turned the Apple Store into a place where people wanted to go, be in the real world, as opposed to virtual, and how that is great because you know, The Revenge of Analog. Then he jumps ahead 12 years to how Ron Johnson is now using that same concept in a new company...But the author completely ignores what happened in-between those 2 events. Ron Johnson went to JC Penny to turn that company around, and use his Apple Store vision, his 'Revenge of Analogue' experience to save JC Penny.
What happened? Ron Johnson was fired after quarter after quarter of double digit sales drops, culminating in what people called "the worst quarter in retail history."
GARBAGE
This is something I know about and caught this author doing, so how many more of these stories was I fed that are on similar shaky ground? I don't know, and that is the problem. I lost trust in this author.
If I were reading a physical copy of this book, I would have thrown it at a wall when I was done just to demonstrate the revenge of the analog.
This is why this book was frustrating--the intro promises insights as to WHY people are turning to analog and what that MEANS. Instead, it's a bunch of jaunts around the country and chats with people who are into records or making moleskin books or own book shops. That means nothing to me. There are a million other books out there where people are saying the exact opposite with more data. So if you're going to make a claim, you either need data or theory or you can even rely on other people's data or theory (try Neil Postman or Aldous Huxley for a start). You can't just go out there cherrypicking a few people to make a point. And for the record, I buy the argument.
This is a fascinating examination of aspects and products that we tend to consider over and done with in the digital age. Turns out some things might have more longevity than we think. Author Sax divides his book into two main areas: Part I: The Revenge of Analog Things and Part II: The Revenge of Analog Ideas. The “revenge” aspect reflects that dismissive attitude these things and ideas experienced as digital took hold. For example, chapter 1 discusses an analog thing long considered dead and buried: vinyl records. Supplanted by compact discs, which in turn has been mostly supplanted by MP3 streaming services. This dealt the music industry a severe blow from which it has only begun to recover. As Sax notes: “Once music was divorced from any physical object, its supply so vastly exceeded demand that people simply refused to pay for it.” Sax accurately notes that what vinyl provided was a sense of acquisition, of ownership, of objects to be handled and displayed. Vinyl, however, is back with a vengeance. Record pressing plants are running 24/7, there's a turntable renaissance and many new record stores are selling vinyl exclusively. (Berlin has over a hundred vinyl stores).
Sax goes on to describe similar resurgences in manufacturing analog camera film, in the resurrection of the Moleskine notebook, of magazines, fountain pens and board games. The second half is not about things but about processes, instances where analog has crept into school and work, pushing out digital innovations. This second section beautifully illustrates how analog ideas can aid digital and also times when digital just gets in the way of creativity and communication. One example where analog has come back is the workplace, particularly the workplaces of high tech companies. Adobe teaches their interface designers how to meditate and how to sketch with paper and ink, Yelp provides non tech workspaces, Facebook has the Analog Research Laboratory where a completely analog letterpress is available.
The book is a stimulating read about these analog eruptions and although Sax makes it clear that all of these movements are minority events they are occupying serious niches. Sax reminded me of one particular aspect of my analog life, the Saturday morning visits to record and book stores, a search and a browse and all of it hands on, then home to admire, read, listen and place on shelves. That involvement is a big part of what’s missing.
In a lovely epilogue Sax returns to the summer camp he attended as a teenager. The camp has a no-technology policy and although there are occasional violations the young people he interviews are mostly OK with a tech free summer camp (Interestingly, it's mostly the parents who want to stay in touch). Sax offers this concluding thought that admirably sums up many of the issues discussed in the book:
“No one, including myself, advocated a return to the predigital lives we once knew. No one was flinging their phones into lakes, or exclusively living off the grid. An entirely analog existence was unattainable and unattractive, but so was an exclusively digital one. What was ideal, and what lay behind the Revenge of Analog, was striking a balance between the two."
I have been waiting for a book to come out that says exactly this.
I couldn't believe people are still doing film, but when I googled "lomography," I can see why. And I can see "happy accidents" with film being a thing too. It's much better rolling real dice than choosing a random generator on the internet. I get it now. I now understand the resurgance of vinyl and why I choose paper for notes and to-dos and the like.
The school bit struck home pretty good as I am a teacher. And I think I've found that he is right, although I used to be in the other camp, the camp that lauded technology as a huge game-changer. And the irony about all of this is that I'm currently teaching Bradbury's most famous work as I write this.
Anyway, I have always thought that the digital momentum is building and going and going, and this reassures me that all my reservations are true. Yes, ebooks are good and great, but real books have a place. I hear echoes of this in Mark Kurlansky's book, Paper. We need analog. And we need digital.
It's a pretty good place to be historically. Of course, I say that now.
Although no author likes to have his book lumped with another, this book is an excellent complement to Tim Wu’s "The Attention Merchants." Both books discuss, from different angles, possible practical reactions to the modern dominance of digital toys and tools. Today, when companies such as Facebook and Google are increasingly under fire from across the political spectrum, David Sax’s "The Revenge of Analog" reminds us of one possible response—not attack (although I am personally all for attacking such companies), but a return to the active use of pre-digital things. He takes us on a persuasive tour of analog offerings, and makes a compelling case for their continued persistence and growth, even if he seems unaware of some of the less socially beneficial results of that trend.
Sax’s premise is that in a range of daily activities, the pendulum has swung away from digital and back towards analog. Not that it will swing all the way back, of course, unless Kim Jong Un nukes us into the nineteenth century, but Sax argues that analog alternatives to digital products will continue to exist and, to some extent, thrive in a world dominated by digital. What this book fails to appreciate, though, is the class divide that is implicit in this vision, with the proletariat inevitably sedated by cheap digital playthings and distractions, funded by continual intrusive and privacy-sucking advertising, while the upper classes fence themselves, and their children, off from the worst aspects of the digital world, which they can do because they have money and time. So, to the extent inequality exacerbated by lack of social mobility is a problem, or we want to reverse the continuing degradation of the lower classes documented by Charles Murray and others, what appears to Sax to be a golden response to digital dominance is instead, or also, another wedge dividing society’s haves from the have-nots.
The frame for Sax’s exploration is his traveling around the world examining the analog revival in different areas. Naturally enough, he starts with the analog movement probably most familiar—vinyl records. (Or “big black CDs,” as the son of a friend called them fifteen years ago.) He takes us on a tour of Nashville’s United Record Pressing, which came close to shutting at the nadir of vinyl sales (3 million units worldwide in 2006; it was nearly 15 million in the United States alone in 2017, up from 12 million in 2015, when this book was written). Manufacture of vinyl, not just listening to vinyl, is very analog, involving hot, piped plastic and a great degree of art. This is not semiconductor manufacture. (Generally, most people not involved in light manufacturing, as I am, do not understand the degree of art involved, and the huge variability that exists in an apparently linear manufacturing process, such that you need skilled workers to accomplish anything competently and repeatably. Like most things, it is not as easy as it looks.)
Musicians and record companies have also embraced the vinyl revival, in part because profit margins are much higher, but also because for many musicians, in combination with using analog recording equipment, it enables them to create art that hews closer to reality, rather than being manipulated and Auto-Tuned into artificiality and homogeneity. As Dave Grohl says, “I don’t want to know how I can tune my voice, because I want to sound like me.” In these days where reality is rejected as a touchstone in all areas of life, that’s a refreshing view. Along similar lines, Sax quotes studio owner Chris Mara, “[Limitations] move the process forward, in a good way. You can easily get lost in the process. It’s easier to stick to the plan when you have limitations.” Both these things seem very true to me.
Finally, and most importantly, music listeners have also embraced vinyl, for a range of reasons, from believing it offers better sound to showing how trendy they are. Most importantly, perhaps, vinyl entirely changes the listening experience, from one where endless immediate options paralyze the ability to choose, and devalue any particular choice, to one where a commitment has to be made to listen to a particular artist in a particular manner, with songs in the order chosen by the artist. Sax is correct that this is a wholly different experience than listing to Apple Music, and he’s convinced me that in my next audio setup I need to get a turntable and rescue all the vinyl still gathering dust at the house where I grew up.
Sax next turns to paper, where he focuses on the success of notebook maker Moleskine. That company, which is only twenty years old, was created from scratch, successfully wrapping itself in the cachet of famous artists and writers of the analog era, such as Hemingway and Picasso. This is what Sax accurately calls a “foundational myth,” built around deprioritizing productivity and functionality in favor of “imagination, image and the arts.” (I think Sax overstates the functionality of digital—I’ve gone back to a paper calendar, in large part because it’s more functional than Outlook for most purposes. It’s a Moleskine!) As Sax notes, it’s easier to sell a myth about a physical product, and buying the myth is, like vinyl, a way of showing taste superior to the teeming masses. “Like a Patagonia jacket or a Toyota Prius, it projected someone’s values, interests, and dreams, even if those were divorced from the reality of [his] life.” That said, Moleskine wouldn’t have been successful without the internet, which made selling its foundational myth infinitely easier and cheaper—not through buying ads, but by people being able to see that tastemakers they admired were using Moleskines.
Both vinyl and Moleskine are examples that most people could have conjured up if asked where the analog revival is taking place. Film, though, is less obvious, and it is the next topic. Here Sax discusses something that I have personally seen, because my children wanted them—the revival of Polaroid-type cameras, dominated by Fuji’s Instax, nearly permanently discontinued a decade today but now a rapidly growing phenomenon. But mostly he focuses on an attempt in Italy to revive the production of picture film, under the FILM Ferrania brand, once an Italian powerhouse, and now a scrappy company that rescued a tiny percentage of the original company’s immense capital assets from destruction. Sax focuses here because, as he says, “it still takes courage—a lot of it—to start a business like this in the digital era.” Yes, since Sax wrote this book, Sony has begun manufacturing its own vinyl, so these trends spread to giant companies, but such movements are started by people who take enormous risks, often more for the love of it than in hope of financial gain. And, in another irony, the internet made making film possible—a Kickstarter campaign allowed a small group to get enough money for the initial setup of the reborn FILM Ferrania.
Each of vinyl, paper, and film offers a mostly individual analog experience—true, such items can be shared, but buying or using them is mostly a personal choice and individual activity. The next topic, board games, is far more social. The nature of digital games is that they are purely atomistic; even if you are playing online against others, for the most part you do not perceive them as real individuals, and you do not have to evaluate and respond to their social cues in any normal way (as can be seen from even a casual glance at the chatter in any online game), or form relationships to achieve success or obtain enjoyment. Board games, which have experienced a tremendous resurgence, fill “the very human need for social interaction.” These are not somewhat old and tired games like Monopoly, but rather a wide range of “artisanal” games, many expensive and limited edition, that a growing number of people organize social events around, and go to cafes and special shops to browse, meet, and play. The game Settlers of Catan was the first big modern success, in the late 1990s, but it has been joined by many others, in which human actions impossible to duplicate by computer, such as negotiation and bluff, play the dominant role. Their success was helped along, again, by the internet, including Kickstarter, and wildly popular game review shows on YouTube, and by related technology, such as 3D printing.
These four items Sax defines as “analog things.” The back half of the book is devoted to “analog ideas.” First up is print, by which Sax means periodicals, such as newspapers and magazines. He outlines how digital periodicals have, basically, been a financial disaster for nearly everyone involved, despite utopian hopes of the opposite, and he shows how technology-abetted analog periodicals solve many of the fatal problems of digital media, from reader engagement to stickiness to obtaining decent ad revenue that pays publishers and writers. Convenience isn’t everything, and people tend to refuse to pay for it—in fact, they often dislike the convenience of online reading, because you never feel like you’ve finished. Sax quotes a deputy editor of the Economist, “We sell the feeling of being smarter when you get to the end. It’s the catharsis of finishing.” Ultimately, for most purposes, people prefer paper. Not that paper will defeat digital, but I, at least, have moved wholly back to periodicals on paper (two daily newspapers; multiple magazines), just as if it were 1990. And I’m feeling a lot better for it. Yes, I check online news (though I try to limit it now to twice a day), but any in-depth reading is done on paper, by printing out if necessary. This is the area where I think the analog revival will reach the greatest depth; it would not surprise me if digital publication became a minority of periodicals.
The next “idea” is retail. Sax notes the rebirth of real-world bookstores, even from Amazon itself, where people will pay more and put themselves to inconvenience for the experience, both a tactile one, and one of being exposed to promising new books, randomly and by curators who far exceed anything Amazon’s algorithms can (or ever will be able to) offer. He then talks about other retail items with a similar route to success, such as those offered by Alternative Apparel, and the razor-thin margins that online retailers face (especially given the need to offer low-cost or free shipping, due to pressure from Amazon). Even originally purely online companies like Warby Parker and Birchbox have opened retail stores, and the ultimate example, of course, is Apple, whose showcase stores are the highest grossing per square foot of any in the world (Tiffany is second). Sax also touches on the cultural and social problems created by the destruction of independent retail stores by chain stores and Amazon, yet another example of the destruction of intermediary institutions documented most famously by Robert Putnam in "Bowling Alone."
Finally, Sax covers work and school. Discussing work, he profiles the high-end watch company Shinola at length, which has brought American manufacturing back to Detroit. (Well, sort of. The FTC takes an aggressive and extra-legal position, not based on any law or regulation, that requires nearly 100% of materials in a product to be of American origin to label something “American-made,” and most of what Shinola does is assembly with foreign parts, so they have since been forced by the FTC to back off on their claims to be “Made In America.”) Sax’s point is broader, though—it is that only by “reskilling,” re-creating lost skills, most of which have been lost to overseas, can places like Detroit experience a renaissance. While he does not go on at length (others have done that persuasively), the idea that outsourcing will make us all better off has been proved stupid, among other reasons because making us all on average better off when the benefits accrue mostly to a small slice at the top means the majority of us are worse off, and because America’s strategic position and future competiveness, and dominance, are thereby shattered. Sax quotes a Detroit real estate developer, “You think you’ll create these live-work-play communities by putting in a Whole Foods. But these people who don’t have jobs and are hungry won’t work-play-live. Mother——s will rob you in the Whole Foods parking lot!” Pretty much. It’s government actively encouraging projects like Shinola’s, rather than choking it like the FTC does, even at the cost of shrieking neoliberal economists, that will, if it is even possible, restore the American middle class.
As far as school, Sax sketches how online education has proven a total disaster. Speaking of the failed MOOC Udacity, he notes, “Apparently a lesson about Icarus’s journey to the sun wasn’t included in the Udacity syllabus.” Oof. Moreover, handing out technology such as iPads to students, at the expense of hiring more teachers (and in fact in an attempt to avoid doing so, hoping software will displace teachers) has been an equal disaster. Yet both, especially the latter, keep getting pushed, as I again know from personal experience (though at least my children’s school, a private but nonsectarian one, bans cell phone use). Plus, Sax outlines, electronics are dreadful for young children. To take only one of innumerable examples, finger painting on an app is a pale, pale imitation of what a child gets out of finger painting in real life (which is why our children are effectively banned from all TV and electronics, with minimal occasional, supervised electronic communication for the older ones).
Sax believes that analog endures because it can, in some instances, “truly provide us with a better experience. . . . Sometimes analog simply outperforms digital as the best solution.” While there is much truth in this, Sax mostly ignores another possible, perhaps greater, reason for using analog—signaling one’s superiority and virtue. Yes, in the context of Moleskine particularly, he mentions this, but maybe most analog is simply a way of demonstrating one’s membership in the upper classes. Or, more simply, it’s a way of showing taste—as Sax says, in the context of vinyl records, “Nothing is less cool than data.” And if it costs money to signal, so much the better for separating oneself from those who can’t afford it.
Sax ends by noting how digital companies have themselves embraced analog-featured offices, and how people with money to send their kids to summer camps costing thousands of dollars are eager to have their children be stripped of electronics for the summer. Sax is right that situations offered by summer camps “eventually lead to individual perseverance and self-respect . . . what most people call character.” But what goes unaddressed is the lack of such effect on the character of those who can’t afford these experiences; whose parents have to work two shifts to make ends meet, and use electronic babysitters, just like everyone they know, to get a little peace and quiet. Nothing good, is the answer. So when Sax says that, in his experience, “The younger someone was, the more digitally exposed their generation was, the less I found them enamored by digital technology, and the more they were wary of its effects,” I wonder if he at all got outside his class bubble. I doubt it.
The author’s class bubble is exemplified by two of Sax’s analog “items”: paper periodicals and board games. You can read the news online for free, though you are bombarded with ads and you probably will inexorably be driven towards clickbait and political polarization. Or you can subscribe to a physical newspaper for, say, $300 a year, reading it closely and with consideration. If you make what many people make, that’s nearly a week’s wages. Who among the working class is likely to do that, even if it was a day’s wages? Similarly, artisanal board games easily cost $100, and you’re not likely to buy one if you make $10 an hour. And playing them, since these games are mostly directed at adults, requires free time, where someone else watches the children, as well as a culture that prizes active, social activity over passive immersion in television. Who is going to do that? The upper classes, of course, only, thus increasing social division. So, when Sax notes that one reason analog things are valuable is that “[t]here’s a scarcity factor of physical goods, while digital goods are worthless,” that’s true. But physical goods are not free, and so using analog things becomes something that divides us, rather than something that, when analog was universal, united us. That doesn’t preclude analog offering benefits, but it does suggest that digital’s erosion of our social capital isn’t likely to be substantially reversed even if the analog things and ideas Sax profiles become even more widely adopted.
I am rating this especially harshly, because I am passionate about this subject and had very high expectations for this piece. There are certain interesting and insightful points interspersed throughout the book, but overwhelmingly it felt like a college assignment a la "in this essay, I will demonstrate why analog is making a return" and so on.
The chapters on film, and on school, were strong. I learned things and was wholly sold on the reasons behind their return.
The chapters on paper, book, and work felt like advertisements for Moleskine, Book Culture, and Shinola, respectively. Listen, I realize the author might have had the idea that doing deep dives into individual strong examples might tell the story better to the reader, but when a persuasive work uses a single primary source for a whole chapter, and that source is a business, there's only one way that looks.
Furthermore, the chapter on books had only a single passing mention of libraries, which have stood strong through the advent of the digital age, and continued to provide print materials as their primary function even as they have deftly adapted to the digital world and its denizens' changing needs. The author said he got most of his books from the public library these days - since they are clearly a big part of how he fuels his desire for analog goods, so why didn't he include them in the book??
During the chapter on board games, I almost quit the book. The level of bile and dismissiveness toward so-called "hardcore gamers," blanket-stereotyping anyone who goes to a hobby store instead of a board game cafe as some cheeto-dust-crusted, argumentative, elitist asshole... was infuriating. A few tiny pockets notwithstanding, that attitude was left behind in the 80s. In fact, I still spend a decent amount of time proactively showing folks new to the world that the view of wargaming and TTRPG players given to them by sources like this book is totally outmoded, welcoming them in and teaching them all the facets of a fantastic, intricate hobby. To see such a throwdown against an entire large subsect of the gaming community really shocked me, especially since the main reasons were 1) to claim that the wargaming community was standoffish and horrible, and 2) that board games were more commercially successful these days (and we're back to advertising again, this time a board game cafe in Toronto).
The last thing that bothered me and - I'm not in the audiobook industry, so for all I know this might be totally okay, but it bothered ME - was that the author narrated his own book, which is cool, good for him, in large part he was an excellent reader, but the book travels around through Europe, and during his narration he would emulate the accents of those he interviewed. I love accents, and I love to hear them when listening to fiction audiobooks, but something about taking real quotes from actual people who might even listen to the book, and half-heartedly giving them accents... it wasn't quite condescending, but it felt tone deaf?
All in all I was just hoping for something better, with less perceived advertising, a greater number of primary sources for source variety rather than diving so deeply into so few, and especially a more broad-minded investigation into the world of analog gaming.
Revenge of Analog is an interesting book that has a lot to like, but isn't without flaws. I'm glad that Sax explains early on that the book isn't necessarily an "anti-digital" book, and he recognizes that those aspects of the world are things that aren't going away. I do agree with his points about analog things being stimulating to humans, everything appealing about them seems tied into a romanticism that isn't quite possible to explain. Unfortunately this leads to a lot of instances of Sax waxing poetic about how wonderful analog things are with just a light amount of research to back it up.
One thing this book reminds me is that engaging in this "analog world" is expensive. I love records and would buy a lot more if they weren't so expensive, and now that vinyl is a cool product again prices just continue to rise. This is a theme throughout the book, as Sax talks about paying almost $450 a year to read the Economist and New York Times, or lovingly describes his "analog" summer camp from childhood (which currently costs almost 10 grand per kid!). A lot of these things appeal to me, but I (and a lot of the general public) probably can't afford to regularly drop $20 on a Moleskine notebook.
The other weakness I found was the chapter about board games, which felt like a really extended advertisement for Snakes and Lattes. I've actually been a few times, and it's a fine place but Sax depicts it like the vision of geniuses and just overly dramatizes the whole thing. It's a board game café.
Essentially it's a fun quick read, especially if you're interested in the topics at hand. Don't expect to go into too much detail regarding the actual psychology behind human interaction with analog things, and you'll probably enjoy it.
As I read this book, I found myself considering the various ways I use analog and digital devices in my daily life.
On the analog front, I have a trusty little 1970 Panasonic Model R-1599C Portable radio that I like to take to the back yard when BBQing or doing other work.
I also enjoy film photography and like using a variety of formats for different purposes. When having fun using 110 film, I love using my 1980 Minolta Weathermatic A waterproof camera. It’s easy to use, and I don’t have to worry about setting it down near a pool, on the seat of a boat, or using it when it’s raining or snowing. It’s a great little camera for vacations, visits to the city park, or just walking about with my wife, family, and friends. When I’m doing more solitary photography, and I drive to a specific place to shoot landscapes, or old buildings, (my favorite subject) I like to use my 1982 Nikon FE SLR for 35mm shooting, or my 1970’s era Lubitel 166U for 120 medium format film. The Nikon was a gift from my father, which was very special because I have so many fond memories of him using this camera when I was a teen.
I also love shooting home movies on film, using both the SUPER 8, Regular 8 formats. When shooting SUPER 8, my go-to camera is my 1975 Canon 310xl because it’s incredibly light, compact, and easy to use. My favorite memory of using this camera was when I took it on a hike my wife and I took in Banff National Park. I captured so many memorable moments in that vintage looking film format and was able to enjoy the hike without being encumbered by a bulky, heavy movie camera. For Regular 8 (8mm) shooting, my favorite would have to be my 1970’s era EKRAN 4 camera that was manufactured in the USSR, (translating the owner’s manual from Russian to English took some time), this camera is incredibly sturdy, and amazingly easy to use. The movies that came from both these cameras are treasured memories for me and my family.
On the music front, I have a basic turntable that was a gift from my wife, and I have a modest record collection. Among my favorites LPs are the Beatles “Abbey Road” album gifted to me by my eldest son, a copy of the triple album, “Wings Over America” by Paul McCartney and Wings that was given to me by my brother, and “Mirage,” a Fleetwood Mac album given to me by my lovely wife. My turntable is set-up in our living room, which is right beside the kitchen. There are few things I enjoy more than putting on an album while I’m making breakfast for my wife and I on Sunday morning.
Finally, on the writing front, I’ve discovered the joy of using manual typewriters as an effective and enjoyable way of putting my thoughts onto paper. Specifically, I wrote the outline, main character “interview” and first and second drafts using only typewriters. When I’m writing at home, I used my 1961 Olympia SM7, and when I was working on my novel at the office, I used my 1965 Olympia SM9. In my experience, these machines are uniquely suited for the “first draft stream of consciousness” phase of book length writing projects. They provide, to use the words of typewriter expert, Joe van Cleave, an “unmediated writing experience” where the writer doesn’t get interrupted by thinking about where files are saved, the spelling and grammar suggestions, or access to the internet that comes with using a laptop. I used these two machines to write the equivalent of 300,000 words, and I must say I may not ever go back to writing early draft work with a laptop again.
Having said all this, I have a “digital equivalent” to each of the experiences I’ve mentioned above. For example, while I enjoy using a vintage portable radio in the back yard, it’s not practical to take it to the gym, so when I’m on the treadmill, I use my Galaxy Note20 Ultra 5G phone to listen to music. My phone is also useful with my photography hobby, especially for taking shots that will only be available for seconds, then gone. I once took a sunset shot by hanging my phone out of my driver’s side window while sitting at a red light at an intersection. I had just a few seconds to take the shot, and later when I looked at the picture I took, I was delighted to see how gorgeous it was. It proved to be one of my favorite pictures that I took that year. Also, my phone takes wonderful videos, many of which I’ve easily uploaded to YouTube, allowing me to share them with a much wider audience. And as far as book length writing is concerned, while I love writing my early drafts with manual typewriters, my laptop plays a key role in “perfecting” and polishing later drafts, not to mention that I’d be unable to submit my work to most agents or publishers if I only had the analog typewritten page to submit.
So, to sum it up, I enjoy using both analog and digital tools, depending on the circumstance, and the goals I want to achieve with a particular project.
It’s with this in mind that I give a high rating to David Sax for “The Revenge of Analog.”
The book helped me better understand and appreciate the way others are embracing, (and using) analog tools around the world. It was helpful and encouraging for me to read this because many people in my immediate sphere do not understand why I might use analog tools when the digital equivalents are so much cheaper, faster, and easy to access. Sax also told unique stories of physical bookstores growing in popularity in Manhattan, and that of a luxury watchmaker setting up shop in Detroit. I was amazed and inspired to read about the passionate individuals who are using their “heavy intellectual weight” to make the manufacturing of photographic film a reality along with the idea of “Reskilling” which Sax describes as a process of returning human judgement to the automated workplace.
When it comes to the tools we use, we are in intriguing times where we have a wonderful confluence of both analog and digital versions. David Sax’s book helped me better understand the crossroads we stand on, and I was entertained and intrigued every step of the way.
Written in 2016, does The Revenge of Analog hold up four years later? No. Then, as now, this book does not answer why humans continue to choose analog tools in a world that sees constant digital advances. There is no cohesive arc to the text building to a penultimate conclusion of why analog is prevailing now. The tone makes the prose awkward, snobby, and unappealing. Overall, the text does not explore why an analog technology may prevail alongside or despite digital. The lack of data to back up the introductory claims about why there is a continued prevalence of analog alongside disrupting digital technologies makes this a disappointing read.
I received an eARC of this title from NetGalley in exchange for a review. The FTC wants you to know.
I expected to love this book, but really hated it after the first few chapters. I am an analog person (despite typing this review on a smartphone), but I felt like Sax was taking a fairly obvious observation that physical objects are more engaging than digital and presenting it as a shocking reveal. His use of hipster shibboleths like Moleskine, Polaroid cameras, and meditation classes on tech campuses narrows his "revenge" to something fussy and elitist. The continued and increasing presence of analog objects is more of a shunning or failure of digital to take hold.
Particularly interesting chapters on vinyl, paper and film. It's heartening to see a resurgence in these areas, but "revenge" is too strong of a word. The good thing about all of them is they don't involve a screen or interface.
Wow! A fascinating book for a modern-day digital junkie who remembers (a lot of) the analogue past and still keeps a lot of analogue material in his life. This book is an appreciation of the analogue world and looks at how it is making a bit of a selected comeback.
This is not a manifesto to eschew all things digital. There is something to be said about having hundreds (or more) eBooks with you, instead of carting several packing crates of heavy books around just-in-case or getting the tune you want, when you want it, wherever you may be in the world. Digital has its place but analogue can still play its part on your terms.
So this look at how some analogue things are coming back in our digital world was a great read (even if there’s a slight irony that this review copy was digital, rather than “dead tree”). The author presents a light-hearted yet immensely informative and well-researched look at individuals and corporations who are making a living from the once-dead analogue world.
Within the book were quite a few surprises to this allegedly well-read and informed reviewer. Even more data-points to commit to the old brainbox! For those who crave even more information there are many further reading suggestions at the end of the book.
This is a short, but sweet, review. The book doesn’t need any more. It is a book for reading. It is a book that will deliver a great story, backed up by a tremendous amount of information. A great travelling companion or research resource. Highly recommended in other words, whether you consume it digitally or in an analogue format!
Analog is making a comeback, despite everyone predicting that the future is digital: from a resurgence in sales of vinyl records to drops in ebook sales and new bookstores popping up and thriving, people are craving real things over digital. This book examines several areas of analog's revenge: music, film, gaming, and paper, as well as digital trends and ideas that are slowly reversing, such as a new value in hand-made items and education's need for less digital and more human and tactile elements.
I personally have reached a digital overload and find myself seeking out the above things (vinyl records, old typewriters) and it was interesting to read about how these things are made and why others find them valuable. I was a little surprised that bullet journaling wasn't mentioned in the section on paper, but the focus was on the brand Moleskine and these journals are used somewhat similarly. I'd recommend this book to anyone who might think the analog revolution is only for hipsters or for nostalgic value. In particular the section on analog vs. digital schooling should be read by everyone in school administration (the teachers already know this stuff!).
Chapter 8 - The Revenge of School - this is, in my opinion, the most important chapter of the book! I don't know why it doesn't come first in the book, and if you skipped it or quit the book mid-way, you should at least read this one. The reasons for the revenge of dialog are still vague in my mind. I think it's really a matter of personal preferences. As much as some romanticise vinyl records, it's not for everyone. I LOVE printed books and never took on for eBooks, as convenient as they are, but many of my friends will never go back to read the printed books. And so many of the examples in this book are, in my opinion, romanticized and don't really represent a revolution of sorts. Education, on the other hand - well this one is important! And if studies do show that analog learning is more effective than digital one, that IS important to know...
First half is basically case studies of analog startups — interesting enough, but the second half is really where it picks with "The Revenge of Analog Ideas." There, Sax starts to take a look more at the superiority of working analog by analyzing some key areas.
It's tough, reviewing, where you want the subject to me something other than it is. I wanted more biology and neuroscience, with all the recent discoveries about how humans absorb, process, and retain information better when it's analog. But the book does an admirable job of covering what it does, with an easy, comfortable style with plenty of quotes and anecdotes.
My personal involvement in the digital revolution made me extremely interested when I encountered journalist David Sax’s book, The Revenge of Analog. He follows the trend away from digital in several different areas including publishing, retail, the work environment, and education.
Sax makes explicit something many of us feel implicitly. Real, tangible things matter. And that insight has tremendous implications for business today—not only in how we purchase and consume, but also in how we invest and grow.
I think I came to this too late. The eight years after its publication has made this book seem overly cautious, trepidatious, and outdated.
Take, for example, the pains to which author David Sax goes — on multiple occasions — to explain to the reader that while he's fascinated by the renewed attention on analog, he loves digital too and doesn't believe the two are mutually exclusive.
Maybe it's just because we've learned so much in the past several years about what our devices are doing to our attention and mental health, to the depths Meta and Co. have stooped in order to scoop up our data, and to the noxious behavior of tech company CEOs, but Sax feels woefully out of step with such pronouncements, almost as though he's on Zuckerberg's payroll himself.
How can you write an entire book about the "revenge" of analog and not deeply ruminate on what this fixation on the digital has actually done to us?
What or who is analog actually taking "revenge" on, anyway?
For such a bold title, there is remarkably little curiosity about what, exactly, people are rebelling against.
The closest Sax comes to criticism of our digital overlords is when quoting the words of others, like French "cultural counselor" and author Antonin Baudry, who posits, "When small stores are replaced by chains and Amazon, what do we lose? We lose something specific. It's called a city."
Sax occasionally makes enlightened observations, such as "Shopping transcends our need for consumption. The pursuit of goods is an excuse for social interaction," but he's overly timid in driving the point home — digital isn't just hurting us, it's killing us, and the shift to analog is many people's way of doing something about that.
Am I writing this review right now on Goodreads, a site taken over by Amazon? Yes, and I loathe doing it, but it's virtually impossible — pun intended — to break out of the system American capitalism has forced us into. Sometimes all that's left is to try and retrieve what happiness can be found from the analog world.
I'm frustrated that, rather than write that book, Sax has essentially written another book about consumption, in which entire chapters are devoted to brands that dare to be ... well, sort of different.
Yeah, I was into Moleskine notebooks too for a time, until the brand made the mistake of getting into shoddy electronics (I'm still waiting for a reply to my email about the overpriced book light they sold me that never turned on) and "smart" tools. In short, they sold out.
But to be labeled a "sellout" isn't the slur it once was. In an age where children dream of being "influencers" and our parents are as addicted to their devices as any 13-year-old, the American dream is no longer to own a house with a white-picket fence (no one's that deluded), it's to escape the world entirely.
That's the true appeal of analog things like books and records — they let us go on believing, despite the seeming contrary evidence all around us, that there are still some things in this world worth holding onto, and that holding onto them is a form of rebellion that just might start a spark that sets the whole system alight.
During COVID restrictions, I got back into vinyl and board games as a slow-paced way to spend time inside. This book reviews the strengths of these analog objects in an increasingly digital world, and provides a breezy read that makes you happy to be holding a physical book with your grubby but tactile little fingers. I like that it doesn't completely crap on digital technology, but rather demonstrates, with a few specific examples, how sometimes analog is just the best tool for the job instead of or alongside computers. It's been over five years since the book came out, but it isn't dated yet, and in fact may be more relevant than ever since the pandemic forced a lot of our remaining analog interactions to become digital.
An enjoyable and timely (though somewhat snobby) look at the resurgence of analog in many endeavors, industries and practices. It confirms, through many means, including extensive institutional studies, that physical means of communication and face to face communication have incalculable advantages over the use of digital media.
Topics covered include vinyl LPs, paper books, notebooks, education, film, board games, working environments, retail and more.
One drawback of the book is the author's nonplussed recounting of younger (i.e. hipster's) ageist judgments on older analog customers. Snarky, patronizing characterizations of older analog users are repeatedly quoted throughout the book. One retailer, Andrew Zuckerman, describes older customers as "geezers, crummy old men...with a balding crown...endless soliloquies of cultural superiority emerging from their lips." Andrew, who do you think was keeping the vinyl industry alive in the '90s, while teenagers were buying Nickelback, Korn and Chumbawamba CDs?
Since David Sax gives his opinions on any number of subjects in the book, it's positively odd that he doesn't indicate whether he believes in these characterizations or not.
Another board games retailer describes the average action figure purchaser of the '90s as a "geeky male living in his mother's basement." Really? The retailer tracked down the purchases to their delivery points and personally confirmed that stereotype? There's many more examples of prejudicial contempt in this otherwise exemplary book.
Um culto à tecnologias analógicas, passando por muitos pontos. Livros, LPs, jogos, cadernos, filmes, fotografias... bem informado, mas um tanto nostálgico demais para o meu gosto. Me alinho mais com o Kevin Kelly no sentido de que voltamos para essas tecnologias analógicas só enquanto as digitais não são tão boas. Mesmo assim tem boas críticas. Vou aproveitar bastante a discussão em torno de ensino à distância, por exemplo.
This book was a whirlwind of ideas. My impressions can be resumed as follows:
I'm just gonna read the chapter on Moleskine. Not really interested in the others. *reads chapter on Moleskine* Woah that was cool. Okay one more. Let's try Print, ties up nicely with the other one.
*reads chapter on print* I HAD NO IDEA MAGAZINES COULD BE SO COOL
*proceeds through the following 3 chapters at maximum speed* Retail: I should open a shop Work: Economy, baby! (I hate economy) Okay maybe I should start from the beginning.
*goes back to the beginning of book and reads proper* Vinyl: I'm just now realizing how much really need a turntable Film: big wave of nostalgia for old Italian films hits like a tsunami Board Games: you know I think I have these really cool game ideas... School: so THAT'S the problem with education - big ed tech companies gonna hate it! Digital: big wave of pity for those tech employees
Summer: well this last one lagged a bit. I must admit
But overall, I loved this read. It's not one of those big ideas books like the Pinker or the Hofstadter ones, but this guy is nosy and clever and I love it. The equivalent of a page turner in non-fiction. 5/5 recommend.
I love this book, this hardcover paper and ink printed book. This is a look into many of the industries that have been disrupted by the digital revolution. Much to my surprise, it lays out some surprising realities showing a revival of analog technologies that many would think extinct or soon to be. The author instead shows the advantages that analog has in certain areas, and how they contributed to the persistence and revival of such things as vinyl records, moleskine notebooks, film photography, retail stores, magazines and newspapers, board games, etc. We live in an analog world, and despite the saturation of screens, devices, and all things digital, it does have it's limitations. After reading this book, it will give you a better appreciation for the real world, and perhaps make you a little more likely to sit down with pen and paper, or pickup a map, or a newspaper.
There was something delicious about reading this on an ereader! I found this book fascinating (despite my love of ereaders). The first part of the book was about analog things (notebooks, records, etc) and I thought that was really interesting but the second half was about analog "ideas" and that was where the magic happened - I think the chapter on education should be mandatory reading for all educators (and parents).
The book isn't a Luddite screaming about how digital is bad - but is calling for balance and using real world examples of companies that have had success by integrating analog "ideas" and things back into their digital environment.
These are a few of my favorite things: vinyl records, mole skin journals, old books, post it notes, board games and a piece of paper I can doodle on. Quotes I loved and had to jot down... "initial ideas blossom on paper first" and "we don't have a skill gap in America-we have a value gap"