I maintain without a moment's hesitation or a shred of reservation that the single most influential event in my life has been the advent of the so-called “personal computer” or PC as it is known in the vernacular. Not surprisingly, however, my embrace of the computer was not without reluctance:
I'm making some more inquiries about computers, but I'm still not convinced that they will improve my efficiency or my profit. The book-keeping for a small office is not all that demanding, and my own present system of time-dockets is hard to beat for my purposes. As well, we already have so many precedents for real estate and estate matters that a “memory” typewriter would add little improvement. Doing Wills is of course a constant hassle, but I don't think the cost of a computer would improve on that. A word processor would be helpful for separation agreements, but we don't do many of them in any event. Having a computer for month-end financial statements would save some time, but the fact is that all the usual information still has to be plugged into the system. I guess I'm just so reluctant to get carried away by these new-fangled devices, where the cost savings are not clear. And the long documents, while time-consuming, do not arise all that often, and when I am paying the staff to be there anyway, I wonder whether there would be any advantage to me. I rather think that it will be a long time before I jump into the computer age. After all, businesses have been doing just fine without them for many years. Perhaps these memory typewriters are not such a bad idea, and I may well consider them when it comes time to replace my present machines. I will have to talk to some other local secretaries about how they are finding them. When I look over the past ten years of practice, the only thing that I can see about computers is that they might have made life a bit easier, but I don't see that they would have increased the profit margin. Last year, we made more money than we did this year, but it had nothing to do with computers; rather, it was simply a matter of having had more business. In fact, it may turn out that my profits this year are the same if not better than last year, because my overhead has been down somewhat (less use of a third secretary, less “time-off” by the other secretaries, and less of the usual expenses which are necessarily associated with more business). I will have to wait for my year-end reports before I can accurately assess that.
When it comes to real estate, it is clear to me that the only way to increase that income is by cutting fees, to make the undertaking more attractive to Clients. It's a question of making the product marketable. And if this is true, a computer would add little to that, but in fact might detract form the profit.
As for estate administration, that frequently depends on a record for getting things done quickly, rather than price. And even if it were the price, again a computer would not add much if anything in that regard. The same reasoning really applies to Wills, which are again sold largely on the basis of price and expediency.
Finally, in all this talk about work-production, I simply can't accept that the public is going to be persuaded by the type of machinery that one has to produce it. The standard qualities of attentiveness to Clients, personal contacts, and pleasant association are to my mind what make a place go. The most common complaints I hear about lawyers are: too slow, not responsive, and too expensive, in that order. We have seldom suffered from the first two attacks. And I can only see a computer ADDING expense, so it would do little to relieve the pressure on the third account. And it is thoroughness which more than anything has distinguished my practice. And speed. Both of these qualities relate almost exclusively to my own thinking and attention, not to the production of documents by secretaries. January 4, 1987.
I'm making some more inquiries about computers, but I'm still not convinced that they will improve my efficiency or my profit. The book-keeping for a small office is not all that demanding, and my own present system of time-dockets is hard to beat for my purposes. As well, we already have so many precedents for real estate and estate matters that a “memory” typewriter would add little improvement. Doing Wills is of course a constant hassle, but I don't think the cost of a computer would improve on that. A word processor would be helpful for separation agreements, but we don't do many of them in any event. Having a computer for month-end financial statements would save some time, but the fact is that all the usual information still has to be plugged into the system. I guess I'm just so reluctant to get carried away by these new-fangled devices, where the cost savings are not clear. And the long documents, while time-consuming, do not arise all that often, and when I am paying the staff to be there anyway, I wonder whether there would be any advantage to me. I rather think that it will be a long time before I jump into the computer age. After all, businesses have been doing just fine without them for many years. Perhaps these memory typewriters are not such a bad idea, and I may well consider them when it comes time to replace my present machines. I will have to talk to some other local secretaries about how they are finding them. When I look over the past ten years of practice, the only thing that I can see about computers is that they might have made life a bit easier, but I don't see that they would have increased the profit margin. Last year, we made more money than we did this year, but it had nothing to do with computers; rather, it was simply a matter of having had more business. In fact, it may turn out that my profits this year are the same if not better than last year, because my overhead has been down somewhat (less use of a third secretary, less “time-off” by the other secretaries, and less of the usual expenses which are necessarily associated with more business). I will have to wait for my year-end reports before I can accurately assess that.
When it comes to real estate, it is clear to me that the only way to increase that income is by cutting fees, to make the undertaking more attractive to Clients. It's a question of making the product marketable. And if this is true, a computer would add little to that, but in fact might detract form the profit.
As for estate administration, that frequently depends on a record for getting things done quickly, rather than price. And even if it were the price, again a computer would not add much if anything in that regard. The same reasoning really applies to Wills, which are again sold largely on the basis of price and expediency.
Finally, in all this talk about work-production, I simply can't accept that the public is going to be persuaded by the type of machinery that one has to produce it. The standard qualities of attentiveness to Clients, personal contacts, and pleasant association are to my mind what make a place go. The most common complaints I hear about lawyers are: too slow, not responsive, and too expensive, in that order. We have seldom suffered from the first two attacks. And I can only see a computer ADDING expense, so it would do little to relieve the pressure on the third account. And it is thoroughness which more than anything has distinguished my practice. And speed. Both of these qualities relate almost exclusively to my own thinking and attention, not to the production of documents by secretaries. January 4, 1987.
One has to laugh! It is almost a text-book speech about “Why I am not going to Change”, by Mr. Anybody Businessman. But change I did. In fact, I was the first lawyer in Almonte to acquire a computer, and the trend has continued to this day. I am now about as “fully wired” as one can get in the practice of law, including on-line connections for bankruptcy searches (and other Federal Government sites), Ontario Government corporate and business databases, TeraView Gateway (including Writs for lien searches, POLARIS for title searches, and TitlePLUS for title insurance), CakeWare for automatic real estate document assembly, electronic filings with the Law Society of Upper Canada, postal codes through the Internet, and of course my own Web Page. Aside from the multiplicity of computer connections (and the fastest modems, and biggest hard drives and latest pentium and laser printers) I now have, the bottom line with computers for me is convenience, which includes accuracy and speed. Computers have just made my life easier, and in many cases, more fun. And the same goes for my secretary. Computers are, however, still just a machine; and, the one thing that I was right about is that, without the flow of trade, the machines do not increase profit. Nor, in my opinion, do they replace staff, at least not in a small business environment such as mine. I remember people such as my brother-in-law, Ed. Hladkowicz (who was associated with the computer business through Corel), telling me that I should think about getting a computer. But I trotted out to him the same excuses that I stated above. And there were others like my “techier” Brian Doucett who correctly predicted that in a matter of years, everyone will have to be connected to the Internet (which in those early days was called the “Information Highway”, an expression which frankly was totally lost on me). Keeping in mind that, as I write, the latest news from the Ontario provincial government is that Deeds will be registered electronically, without signatures, and (unless you are hopelessly in love with paper) without the need for a “hard copy”. This obviously speaks volumes to the real estate practitioner who has ears to hear and eyes to see.
However, I rush the matter. Getting me from “there” to “here” happened gradually, and not without some growing pains:
This is being written with one of my old IBM typewriters from my Office. This poor machinehasbeenreplacedbyacomputer(alsoanIBM). Iwasworkingverysteadily with the computer yesterday (for about eight hours), and I can't honestly say that I'm much further ahead. February 15, 1987.
This comment is but the tip of the iceberg! The real fun began when I went shopping to buy the
computer. I remember the day very clearly. It was a wintry Saturday, very cold and dry, and clear. I intended to do nothing more than stop at a computer store (I had never been in one before) to acquaint myself with the process and equipment. The young man who “looked after me” was not aggressive (he was too hopelessly “hung over” from his Friday night to be anything but submissive), but he did make a point of emphasizing the huge value of purchasing this “floor model”, which was now on sale for a mere $3,500. Well, I could see the logic, so (no doubt taking a deep breath, and armed with his assurance that all you do is take it home and plug it in), I said yes. He immediately began loading the stuff into the trunk of my car.
When I arrived back at the office late that Saturday afternoon, I did of course have to unload the machinery at the office and “plug it in”. The first problem I had was that there were two keyboards, and I was not sure why, much less where to “plug in” their respective cords. I tried to compare it to my knowledge of a large two-keyboard organ, but the utility of two of them still escaped me. This hurdle was but the first in a long, long line of hurdles. I was like a chimpanzee with books on DOS and WordPerfect. I simply had not the remotest idea of the difference between software and hardware, and the tutorial for WordPerfect was about as exciting to me as a Manual for Little Engineers is to a child on Christmas morning. I was enraged by my obvious mental inability to grasp the depth and breadth of this task. Night after night I would lie in bed, stiff like a board, in a cold sweat, asking myself, What have I done? What have I done? It was more than apparent to me that I had thrown away a lot of hard-earned money, and this expensive collection of now-useless equipment wildly thrown about the office represented to me little more than a misguided submission to popular hysteria, and it would never work properly.
But slowly things started to improve:
For me, getting that new computer is a bit like putting a speck of dirt inside an oyster. It takes me a while to adjust to it, to “round it out”, so to speak. Today, I tidied up the Office, disposed of the cartons, put the now-unnecessary antiquated mechanical items away in bottom drawers, and the new machine looks somewhat less threatening in my otherwise old-fashioned Office. For a while I felt that it was completely out of place, and it seemed to detract from the otherwise welcoming and cozy environment. February 15, 1987.
In retrospect, I remind myself of the apes coming to the monolith in the opening scene of 2001: A Space Odessy by Stanley Kubrick. The comparison is in my mind very apt: clean lines of obviously highly engineered material, with no apparent utility; something from another age, another world; suddenly plopped out of nowhere before my eyes, part of the landscape of my former life and self, disconnected and silent. Ever so slowly, the magic of the device began to dawn upon me, as the dawn of the new age of computers itself:
It has been an odd weekend for me, having spent almost all day Saturday working on the new machine, not without some considerable degree of discouragement, I might add. But I can see, just from typing with this machine, and comparing it to the other, that there are clearly advantages to the computer, assuming one can master its many facilities (or, rather, “capabilities”, as the jargon goes). It also has the advantage of putting text editing on somewhat of an artistic scale, compared to what I am doing right now. Here, the only marvel, if indeed one can call it that, is the speed of the machine. But there certainly isn't any rapture about the cleverness of the device. I am, however, very lazy about having to learn a new skill, but I think it will be a rewarding one, once mastered. Somehow, even the typing is less difficult. Don't know why, particularly; but it is somehow. February 15, 1987.
When I arrived back at the office late that Saturday afternoon, I did of course have to unload the machinery at the office and “plug it in”. The first problem I had was that there were two keyboards, and I was not sure why, much less where to “plug in” their respective cords. I tried to compare it to my knowledge of a large two-keyboard organ, but the utility of two of them still escaped me. This hurdle was but the first in a long, long line of hurdles. I was like a chimpanzee with books on DOS and WordPerfect. I simply had not the remotest idea of the difference between software and hardware, and the tutorial for WordPerfect was about as exciting to me as a Manual for Little Engineers is to a child on Christmas morning. I was enraged by my obvious mental inability to grasp the depth and breadth of this task. Night after night I would lie in bed, stiff like a board, in a cold sweat, asking myself, What have I done? What have I done? It was more than apparent to me that I had thrown away a lot of hard-earned money, and this expensive collection of now-useless equipment wildly thrown about the office represented to me little more than a misguided submission to popular hysteria, and it would never work properly.
But slowly things started to improve:
For me, getting that new computer is a bit like putting a speck of dirt inside an oyster. It takes me a while to adjust to it, to “round it out”, so to speak. Today, I tidied up the Office, disposed of the cartons, put the now-unnecessary antiquated mechanical items away in bottom drawers, and the new machine looks somewhat less threatening in my otherwise old-fashioned Office. For a while I felt that it was completely out of place, and it seemed to detract from the otherwise welcoming and cozy environment. February 15, 1987.
In retrospect, I remind myself of the apes coming to the monolith in the opening scene of 2001: A Space Odessy by Stanley Kubrick. The comparison is in my mind very apt: clean lines of obviously highly engineered material, with no apparent utility; something from another age, another world; suddenly plopped out of nowhere before my eyes, part of the landscape of my former life and self, disconnected and silent. Ever so slowly, the magic of the device began to dawn upon me, as the dawn of the new age of computers itself:
It has been an odd weekend for me, having spent almost all day Saturday working on the new machine, not without some considerable degree of discouragement, I might add. But I can see, just from typing with this machine, and comparing it to the other, that there are clearly advantages to the computer, assuming one can master its many facilities (or, rather, “capabilities”, as the jargon goes). It also has the advantage of putting text editing on somewhat of an artistic scale, compared to what I am doing right now. Here, the only marvel, if indeed one can call it that, is the speed of the machine. But there certainly isn't any rapture about the cleverness of the device. I am, however, very lazy about having to learn a new skill, but I think it will be a rewarding one, once mastered. Somehow, even the typing is less difficult. Don't know why, particularly; but it is somehow. February 15, 1987.
This is a most cumbersome machine, compared to the computer, which I have been using a GREAT deal. I have now put on the computer the following documents: will, shareholders' agreement, partnership agreement, business purchase agreement, letter re: Millfall project, and a number of other less significant matters. I have been making very good use of the will, and some use of the other documents. It has been over three months since I last recorded any of this tripe. A LOT of my spare time has been spent on the computer. It took me a long while just to learn how to make the various simple functions work. But I kept going back to it, because I could see how useful it was. AND I have been doing a lot of the work on it myself. Not the secretaries. I now do all the wills, except maybe one (and that was only to give the secretary some exposure to it). I find that I enjoy using it, and I am getting quite good at it. It also means I need less staff time. We haven't actually been horribly busy during the past three months, but we have had enough to do to keep the two of them going. And formerly, I used to spend so much of my empty time at the Office by writing in my record book, sometimes filling up pages at a time. Now, however, I always seem to have something to do on the computer. This of course will subside over the next few months, as I finally get all the standard documents I need on the machine. I also put a separation agreement on the machine. May 18, 1987.
We eventually acquired in addition a software package for electronic bookkeeping. The system was one of the most fundamental on the market - Bedford (or ACCPAC as it is sometimes better known). The total cost was about $185 I believe, and although it took me many long hours (in the dead of winter) to adjust it to our needs, it translated the former nightmare of bookkeeping into mere simple mathematics. Compare this to the situation before we had the software:
Stayed at the Office this evening later than I had intended, because Mrs. Anderson was having some trouble balancing the books, and the little bit of fussing over them that I had done with here before she left the Office did nothing more than make me want to know what it was that these various bookkeeping procedures really mean. I mean, after all, the “books” are nothing more than a transcription of the every-day business finances which I generate; and I could see no logical reason why I could not understand what it was they (the “books”) were trying to do. So I spent about 1 Ωhours poring over them, adding up columns, and comparing those columns to their primary sources, then, having satisfied myself of their accuracy (or, more precisely, of their inaccuracy - I found the $125 error), pausing to reflect upon the relationship between the various columns; and finally, I had them balancing...it turned out to be just an addition error; but in the process of finding it, I also taught myself a lot about the way the “month end” process works. August 13, 1987.
We eventually acquired in addition a software package for electronic bookkeeping. The system was one of the most fundamental on the market - Bedford (or ACCPAC as it is sometimes better known). The total cost was about $185 I believe, and although it took me many long hours (in the dead of winter) to adjust it to our needs, it translated the former nightmare of bookkeeping into mere simple mathematics. Compare this to the situation before we had the software:
Stayed at the Office this evening later than I had intended, because Mrs. Anderson was having some trouble balancing the books, and the little bit of fussing over them that I had done with here before she left the Office did nothing more than make me want to know what it was that these various bookkeeping procedures really mean. I mean, after all, the “books” are nothing more than a transcription of the every-day business finances which I generate; and I could see no logical reason why I could not understand what it was they (the “books”) were trying to do. So I spent about 1 Ωhours poring over them, adding up columns, and comparing those columns to their primary sources, then, having satisfied myself of their accuracy (or, more precisely, of their inaccuracy - I found the $125 error), pausing to reflect upon the relationship between the various columns; and finally, I had them balancing...it turned out to be just an addition error; but in the process of finding it, I also taught myself a lot about the way the “month end” process works. August 13, 1987.
The real problem that I had with bookkeeping (aside from the fact that I had safely ignored it since I began my practice in 1978 by delegating it entirely to Mrs. Barbara Cotterill), was that I had no clue about what entries were debits and what were credits. The electronic system, on the other hand, was based upon the more intelligible principle that “If it increases an account balance, it's a plus; if it decreases it, it's a minus”:
Had to borrow more money in February. That really made me feel good. But one good thing came of the winter - I set up the accounts on the new computer. In fact, even though it was hard work, I had a ball with it. We're just finishing our first month right now. So I haven't got a perfect idea of what it will do, but I think we'll be pleased. That stuff took hours, just hours! Long hours on weekdays and weekends. It's as though I've been underground for the past month. April 9, 1990.
As I mentioned, this new accounting system was nothing more than Bedford or AccPac as it is sometimes called. It is likely the least expensive and most popular accounting system on the market. I bought it at this time (which was the beginning of the economic recession) because I had nothing better to do at the office, and the cost was not prohibitive. I figured (quite justifiably) I had nothing to lose. Although the system is generally tailored to construction and retail operations (they do not even advertise it for law offices), I was able to adjust the models to fit our requirements, and still have all the advantages of easy double-entries and allocation of expenses, withdrawals, etc. I did nonetheless vaguely mistrust my own apparent luck with the system, since I had never been remotely conversant with accounting, so I hired a gentleman who taught Bedford accounting at the nearby Algonquin College to visit me one evening to review my work. He was clearly disappointed within minutes of his arrival, since he saw his hourly wage evaporating rather readily upon a cursory review of what I had done to adapt the system to my own needs. His instruction was not at all fundamental, but merely ornamental. I thanked him for his attendance, and sent him on his not so merry way after a mere hour!
The other device, apart from the computer, which made a tremendous difference to us in the practice of law was the telecopier or facsimile machine. Again, the improvements were two-fold; not just speed, but less hassle (we did not have to make up packages for couriers, with consignment slips, then call them to arrange for a pick-up and call them again when they did not show the first time).
Occasionally, I think that the time may come when I can do with just one secretary. Everything of course depends on the amount of work we have. I don't think that the Almonte market is saturated with lawyers yet. But the nice thing is that even if I have to make that choice, I can now handle the entire Office on my own virtually. The computers and electronic bookkeeping system have made that a possibility. And the FAX. It's not so much that they will put anyone out of work; rather, they just let me do the stuff on my own. It's very satisfying that I am now able to deal with everything from bookkeeping to a twenty-page document without fear. And I suppose the fact of the matter is that my years of experience and piles of precedents are paying off. We're organized. Not to mention how much more enjoyable it is for me to be able to handle words on those machines. June 10, 1990.
Had to borrow more money in February. That really made me feel good. But one good thing came of the winter - I set up the accounts on the new computer. In fact, even though it was hard work, I had a ball with it. We're just finishing our first month right now. So I haven't got a perfect idea of what it will do, but I think we'll be pleased. That stuff took hours, just hours! Long hours on weekdays and weekends. It's as though I've been underground for the past month. April 9, 1990.
As I mentioned, this new accounting system was nothing more than Bedford or AccPac as it is sometimes called. It is likely the least expensive and most popular accounting system on the market. I bought it at this time (which was the beginning of the economic recession) because I had nothing better to do at the office, and the cost was not prohibitive. I figured (quite justifiably) I had nothing to lose. Although the system is generally tailored to construction and retail operations (they do not even advertise it for law offices), I was able to adjust the models to fit our requirements, and still have all the advantages of easy double-entries and allocation of expenses, withdrawals, etc. I did nonetheless vaguely mistrust my own apparent luck with the system, since I had never been remotely conversant with accounting, so I hired a gentleman who taught Bedford accounting at the nearby Algonquin College to visit me one evening to review my work. He was clearly disappointed within minutes of his arrival, since he saw his hourly wage evaporating rather readily upon a cursory review of what I had done to adapt the system to my own needs. His instruction was not at all fundamental, but merely ornamental. I thanked him for his attendance, and sent him on his not so merry way after a mere hour!
The other device, apart from the computer, which made a tremendous difference to us in the practice of law was the telecopier or facsimile machine. Again, the improvements were two-fold; not just speed, but less hassle (we did not have to make up packages for couriers, with consignment slips, then call them to arrange for a pick-up and call them again when they did not show the first time).
Occasionally, I think that the time may come when I can do with just one secretary. Everything of course depends on the amount of work we have. I don't think that the Almonte market is saturated with lawyers yet. But the nice thing is that even if I have to make that choice, I can now handle the entire Office on my own virtually. The computers and electronic bookkeeping system have made that a possibility. And the FAX. It's not so much that they will put anyone out of work; rather, they just let me do the stuff on my own. It's very satisfying that I am now able to deal with everything from bookkeeping to a twenty-page document without fear. And I suppose the fact of the matter is that my years of experience and piles of precedents are paying off. We're organized. Not to mention how much more enjoyable it is for me to be able to handle words on those machines. June 10, 1990.
The “fear” that I spoke of is not an exaggeration! In the days before computers, the preparation of a lengthy document (Will, Separation Agreement, Partnership Agreement, Business Asset Purchase, Share Purchase Agreement, Shareholders Agreement, to name but a few) meant that one's secretary would be tied up doing the document for days at a time, and there was the very real concern that it would have to be amended and retyped. While it is often said that the advent of computers just multiplied the pages of paper, I am more concerned that, prior to computers, there was a not intangible tendency to avoid amendment of documents for purely expedient purposes. As well, computers brought a bit of “fun” into document production. It became as much the difference between being a coal miner and a geologist. The skilled secretary was no longer merely a good typist, but rather a word processor, who could at times be “artistic” about the production of paper. And finally, in a business as stressful as a legal practice can often be, the fewer inconveniences, the better. All three features (speed, less hassle and fun) combined in the software package we got for real estate document assembly. It is called “CakeWare” (being, I suspect, a play on the expression “cake-walk”, implying ease and facility). The software entirely lives up to its name, and once again I have found that one of the essential elements of my practice (real estate law) has been catapulted into a new era. This software is complemented by another package for preparation of Agreements of Purchase and Sale, which again make the document production (and amendment) a breeze, and results in a very professional looking product. The bottom line for me with the software is that it is fun, it is clever, it produces high quality documents, it saves everybody (me and my staff and my clients) time and expense. It may even be that, at this stage of my career, I am excited by the fact that I continue to learn something new, and my daily undertakings are not entirely repetitive. As much as I adore ritual and habit, I recognize that opening some new doors of the mind is probably healthier.
My use of computers began to filter into activities other than those strictly associated with the Office. For example, in 1991 I joined the Local Architectural Conservation Advisory Committee (LACAC) oftheTownofAlmonteandtheTownshipofRamsay. Myself-imposedjobwasto“computerize” the existing records of the Committee, including the historical summaries of all the properties in the Town and Township which had been the subject of the designation process. I extended the undertaking to include the addition of the various policies and procedures, list of property owners, precedents for numerous documents, etc. It was the first time anyone on the Committee had ever been exposed to such “computerization”, largely because most of the members were either people who had no exposure to computers in their daily endeavours, or who were of the generation which harboured a bit of fear and ignorance about computers. Nonetheless, the process took hold and was easily incorporated into the routine operation of the Committee. In a similar manner, I started doing a lot of my Masonic secretarial work on the computer, including membership lists (names and addresses), templates for notices of meetings, form letters, and the minutes of both the regularly Lodge meetings and of the Masonic corporation.
My use of computers began to filter into activities other than those strictly associated with the Office. For example, in 1991 I joined the Local Architectural Conservation Advisory Committee (LACAC) oftheTownofAlmonteandtheTownshipofRamsay. Myself-imposedjobwasto“computerize” the existing records of the Committee, including the historical summaries of all the properties in the Town and Township which had been the subject of the designation process. I extended the undertaking to include the addition of the various policies and procedures, list of property owners, precedents for numerous documents, etc. It was the first time anyone on the Committee had ever been exposed to such “computerization”, largely because most of the members were either people who had no exposure to computers in their daily endeavours, or who were of the generation which harboured a bit of fear and ignorance about computers. Nonetheless, the process took hold and was easily incorporated into the routine operation of the Committee. In a similar manner, I started doing a lot of my Masonic secretarial work on the computer, including membership lists (names and addresses), templates for notices of meetings, form letters, and the minutes of both the regularly Lodge meetings and of the Masonic corporation.
My latest acquisition is an electronic calculator, but I am finding that I do not make as much use of it as I might, since I do not have a computer in my own office, but rather the two computers are in the secretarial offices. This gap is probably the next one for me to bridge - namely, getting a reasonably small but powerful machine for use right in my own office. Such a move will destroy that final barrier which existed in professional offices for centuries - namely, that the typing gets done by staff only. And so it goes, the technological revolution continues.
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