Mac OS X Quibbles

I used to hate the Apple Macintosh with a passion.  This was in the days before Macs were white or silver. Those of you younger than about 16 will need a history lesson here: up to about 1998, the only colour you could get the Macintrash, as I called the Mac back then (I still call that version of the Mac the Macintrash), in was that of desert sand, which is called sand in Britain and beige in the U.S.A.  This was a dignified, classy, and appropriate colour for a professional machine, which is, after all, what a computer is.

Then, even the colour---the last bastion of respectability held onto by the 'regular' Mac---was changed.  Sand was discontinued, and from 1998 up until about 2002, the Mac would come in what seemed to me like a thousand different colours. none of which were suitable for a hobby room at somebody's home, let alone the office, and all of which were suitable for a child's toy box.  Even the elegant form-factor of the Mac was trashed; the new form-factor of the Mac was evocative of nothing, if not a gumdrop.  Even the name of the system was changed---instead of the (admittedly, oxymoronic) cool-sounding Performa, the new machine was called the iMac.   None of these things would have bothered me much.  I like my computers to look cool, but the lack of coolness in a computer's look does not affect my buying decision, as long as all other aspects of the system are to my satisfaction.  I'd have bought a pink one called the Barbietron if it had the right features.

Needless to say, it didn't.  With the advent of the iMac, the perfectly good Apple Desktop Bus connections for mouse and keyboard (the functional counterparts of the PS/2 mouse and keyboard connections on IBM-style microcomputers) were scrapped and replaced with Universal Serial Bus connections.  USB ports, as every computer-literate human being or dog knows, are still widely used today; they control every peripheral from printers to cameras.  PS/2 and ADB ports both have, or had in ADB's case, only one use: connecting to a human interface device.   In fact, USB, perhaps due to its versatility, is a slightly poorer standard for interfacing with a human than either ADB or PS/2 (I'd explain, but the explanation is long and not germane to the topic being discussed here).

The introduction of USB was an excellent step forward for the Apple Mac, but it did not have to come at the expense of the two ADB ports.  There was ample space for both kinds of cards inside, and both kinds of sockets outside the vaguely computer-like toy.  The mouse and keyboard were all but unusable.  This wasn't at all surprising for the mouse, which was of the signature, minimalistic Apple variety, with one button and no scrollwheel (inferior to even the most basic PC mouse, which would have three buttons and one scrollwheel).  This mouse, however, was despised even by Apple users; unlike other mice, shaped in an oval, teardrop, or rectangular shape for human hands, this one was perfectly round, had a ridiculously short cable, and would suit only a robot with tiny palms and fingers less than an inch in length.  It was, in fact, nicknamed the hockey-disc mouse, due to its resemblance to the flat, round, black 'ball' used in that sport.

The keyboard, however, was another matter entirely.  Prior to the festering piles of horse dreck that the four Mac pack-in keyboard models used between 1998 and 2007, Apple had created three of the best computer keyboards in history, all of them being called the Apple Extended Keyboard for marketing purposes, and Models 0115, 0312, and 3501 for engineering purposes.  All of these (especially the 0115 and 0312) were to the Mac as the Model M is to the PC---the high point of peripheral design.  Like the Model M, every key on the AXK had a physical switch it was connected to.  The switches worked on different principles, felt differently, and made different sounds, but if a single key failed, it could be repaired (i.e. the switch replaced) with very little difficulty.  Also, with use, physical switches would continue to provide consistent tactile feedback to the typist until failure, which was instantaneous; this can be likened to a lightbulb burning out after its rated hours of use.

The iMac keyboard, and all the Apple keyboards which followed it until they made the laptop-style metal one, did not use key switches.  Like almost all keyboards on the market today, irrespective of the price bracket, the iMac keyboard used a sandwich of keys on top, a rubber sheet coated with graphite (a common, electrically conductive type of carbon) in the middle, and a printed circuit board on the bottom.  The tactile feel, like with all keyboards based on this blueprint, is non-existent; and if any part of the keyboard failed, it could not be repaired or replaced individually.  The life of a rubber membrane keyboard is short, even though the keyboard hardly ever 'fails'; it simply becomes more and more mushy until the user discards it in irritation.  For the above reasons, I called the Macs manufactured between 1998 and 2003 "Macintoys".

However, the most serious problem with all Macs before 2003, in my opinion, was the operating system.     Apple's primary rival in the operating system market was, and is, Microsoft; its three variations on their operating system offering are collectively known as Windows.

Prior to 1993, Microsoft provided one flavour, as it were, of Windows.  At this time, although Windows was marketed as an operating system for IBM-style microcomputers, this usage of the term was incorrect.  Windows versions one to three could not run on a computer---and I have no hesitation in calling PC's computers---unless a particular piece of software called the Disk Operating System was installed first.  Although more than one person could share the computer, they could not keep their identities separate: user accounts had not been incorporated into any of the DOS-based Windows versions.  Metaphorically, users of DOS-based Windows lived in a house with one room; each member of the household could do whatever he wanted, but affected every other member.  Also, only one member of the household could be inside the house at a time.  This was an improvement from DOS: in the DOS house, only one person could do one thing at a time, and stop doing that thing before he started another, whereas in Windows, a person could sip on a beer and watch telly at the same time.

In 1993, Microsoft provided a self-contained operating system for business called Windows NT 3.1; this was Microsoft's second operating system.  This line of operating systems, now sold also for the residential market, still continues; its latest iteration is version NT 6.1, for marketing purposes called Windows 7.  This line of products introduced user accounts---each user of the computer could choose his own desktop background and store files under his own name.  Each account, at the owner's discretion, could have a password associated with it, so the account owner could relax in the knowledge that his sensitive data was private.  This line of Windows would metaphorically be closest to a house with multiple rooms, with locks on every room door, as well as the front door.

Both lines of operating systems continued to evolve; in 1994, Microsoft released a version of Windows built upon the same philosophy as the graphical DOS interface described above; logically, it referred to itself as Windows version 4 (for marketing purposes, it was called Windows 95).  This version of Windows began a new generation, however, as it needed no software to be installed on the computer prior to itself; thus, it actually was very close to an actual operating system.  Windows 95 still needed DOS to function, but its internal version of DOS was installed as an integral part of the system.  Of this generation, five versions were released, starting with 95 and concluding with Millenium Edition, i.e. 4.9. This line of products also featured accounts; however, security was lacking.  Anyone with a cursory knowledge of the system could defeat DOS-based Windows password protection.  This line of Windows would be closest to a house with multiple rooms and doors between the rooms, but no locks.

In terms of security, Mac OS before 2002 was exactly like the DOS-based versions of Windows, the last version of which was released in 1993; i.e., it was eight years behind!

After 2002, Mac OS was scrapped.  The new operating system used on Macs is Mac OS in name only.  Mac OS X, as it is called, is actually an adaptation of a particular business-grade operating system used on large mainframes; this system is called UNIX, and powers multinational corporations and banks.  In UNIX, security would essentially be that of a supermax prison.  Although Windows also powers mainframes in large corporations (the split is about 50/50), it lags years behind when it comes to security.  Scant wonder: the particular version of UNIX that Mac OS X is based on hails from the University of California at Berkeley, and dates from the 1970s; it has had ages to become the beast it is today, and was written by its students entirely as a volunteer project, and so it became better than any business could produce.

Here's another analogy, this time relating more to file security than account security.  Mac OS and pre-4 Windows store files in a shoebox at the corner of Oxford and Bond Streets.  Windows 9x stores its files in an unlocked filing cabinet.  Windows NT stores its files in an office safe.  UNIX stores its files in a Swiss bank vault.

Now, if a computer/computer-like toy has only one user, security becomes a non-concern.  However, there is a second issue, whether a computer has one, two, or a thousand users: stability.  DOS is single-tasking; only one job runs at a time, so the computer is infinitely stable.  All versions of Windows and Mac OS can run more than one application at a time.  However, the way they accomplish this is very different, and so the degree of stability

Non-NT Windows, as well as Mac OS, use co-operative multi-tasking.  A programme asks for a resource; the system gives it to the programme.  When and only when the programme finishes with it, it gives the system the resource back.  If the person who wrote that programme forgot to include certain statements at the end, when the programme is quit, it doesn't give the resource back even after it's done with it.  The first situation requires a restart; the second only requires it eventually, once there's no more of that resource left.  This is comparable to a roomful of first-forners left unsupervised with a limited amount of toys.  If one of the children simply hold on to a toy and refuse to share it, there will be a fight, and someone will get hurt.  If several children mistakenly believe that the toy belongs to them and them only, and take that particular toy home, nobody will notice until there's no toys left, at which point there will be crying and fights.

NT Windows and Mac OS X use pre-emptive multitasking.  Instead of a roomful of first-formers with no supervision, pre-emptive multitasking is a roomful of mature adults with police supervision.  If one of the adults is being unruly, the policeman will take the man away.  People leaving the room are frisked, to make sure that everything taken is put back.  When this happens, the object is put back and everything works as normal.

The reason for the sudden change of code base in Mac OS was because Apple bought out NeXT, a company founded by Steve Jobs after he was fired from Apple.  Yes, that Steve Jobs.  NeXT started in 1985, and was bought out in 1996.  NeXTStep was an operating environment that could run on almost any operating system, although at first NeXTStep ran only on NeXT's own computers.  NeXT was bought out for the explicit purpose of using NeXTStep as a replacement for Mac OS, as well as re-hiring Jobs.

In the meantime (i.e. between 1994 and 1996), Apple spent a fortune in money and man-hours into its in-house solution to the Mac OS problem: a hotch-potch of various modules, akin to puzzle-pieces, codenamed Copland.  Copland never came close to completion, and never would have: Apple's development strategy for Copland was fundamentally flawed.  Instead of putting together a well-balanced team to write a kernel---that is, a base on which the graphical environment would run---Apple put together a multitude of teams to each write a single component of the Copland system, and somehow expected the puzzle to magically come together.  The Copland demo, released in 1996, lacked even a text edit control, the most basic of features; it was unstable and crashed frequently, despite the concept being rock-solid in theory.

Work on Mac OS X, which was essentially a graphically-updated NeXTStep running on the Berkeley Software Distribution of UNIX, officially began in 1996 under the name Rhapsody.  Instead of releasing NeXTStep on BSD immediately with no changes, Apple made extensive graphical changes to the perfectly-fine user interface, to bring it in line with the "Platinum" interface that defined old-fashioned Mac OS.  I believe a better name for "Platinum" would be "Manure".

The upshot of this was that an uglier version of NeXTStep was released, three years later, in 1999, for server (i.e. business) use only.  Guess what the home market was to use.  Yes, you're right: old-fashioned Mac OS, now called Mac OS 9.  Home users, as well as Joe the office drone, were stuck with old-fashioned Mac OS while servers ran a real operating system.

Microsoft made the same mistake, but its mistake was limited to marketing only: NT 4 and 5 (2000) were marketed to businesses, while 98 and Me were marketed to residences.  However, NT 4 and 2000 both had versions for the average PC, and would work well in a residential capacity; in fact, due to the uselessness and instability afforded by Me, Windows 2000 was frequently used that way.

With Mac OS X Server, no workstation version existed; i.e. the Mac counterpart to Windows 2000 was Mac OS 9.  This state of affairs existed until 2001.

Again, a summary: from the acquisition of NeXT in 1996, businesses had to wait three years for a server solution from Apple---a server solution that could have been written in six months maximum (a re-brand of NeXTStep, running on BSD compiled for PowerPC microprocessors).  This server solution could have been made available for office machines as well.  Instead, both office and residential users had to wait five years to get a useful operating system to run on Mac.

In an ideal world, as soon as NeXT was acquired, Mac OS 8 should have been scrapped; this would leave more-or-less double the number of employees to work on Rhapsody, so that it could ship in half the time, and be used for home, office, and server applications.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why Microsoft has a near-monopoly on computer systems: it took five years for Apple to release an affordable operating system that was not a pile of manure.  Microsoft, on the other hand, gave workstation users a choice between 9x (their counterpart to old-style Mac OS) and the slightly more expensive professional NT.  Although more users chose 9x in the mid 1990s, the balance had shifted by 1999.

Apple's operating system was released in 2001, as a glorified version, more or less, of BSD.  And, up till now, the command environment, that is, BSD proper, has been working properly.  In fact, it's still working properly---it's had forty years of development behind it.  Apple, however, has had ten years---that is, thirty six fifty days and somewhere around seventy thousand hours---to work on the graphical part of its system, and it still isn't done.

Take hover-to-focus.  It's a simple feature, wholly misunderstood by those not using UNIX, but considered essential by those that do: if Word is active (and presumably on top), and Excel is inactive (and is on bottom), simply keeping the mouse pointer on any part of Excel's window that isn't covered up gives Excel focus, i.e. makes it active BUT DOESN'T MOVE IT.   I stress that point because there is a widely-maligned variation of this that actually pulls up the window, which I'll get into later.

Autofocus is a great feature---hell, even Windows has it.  It comes in handy when you have multiple projects open, and a command line or two, and you need to put in a command and then get back to your work.

However, people who haven't tried administrating an AIX server, or doing graphics on an SGI box, or even who haven't used Linux, number, sadly, in the majority.  Although autofocus is included in Windows, making it happen includes finding a particular checkbox, ticking it, and clicking on OK, something which Joe Average Office Drone isn't interested in doing.

However, when this is mentioned on a forum somewhere on the Information Superhighway To Hell, people automatically assume that focus means foreground.  So they point you to some programme or other that invariably costs north of $25 and does something that I could write up myself.

Then there is an even worse example, and to be honest it makes me wonder if the programmers at Apple are stupid or really drunk.  Most graphical operating environments are window-based.  The nice folks at Xerox thought of that back in the 1970s, didn't make a penny, and let everyone else copy off of them.  They put each collection of related functions on a piece of data inside a self-contained "window", and allowed these windows to be moved at one's leisure.

Suppose I have two Word windows open on Mac and two Excel, but one of the Excel windows is minimised.  If I hit Apple-Tab, I should get the next window in line.  Instead, Apple makes it PROGRAMME-FOCUSSED, so if I have one of those windows minimised, Mac OS just skips over them, no big deal.

So I've moved away from Apple-Tab entirely.  I've now had to keep a list of keyboard shortcuts magnetically pinned to a metal easel on my desktop so that I don't forget: F8, F9, F10, F11, F12.  Whisky, tango, foxtrot?  Sure, I like the Exposé, but I like my Apple-Tab too!  Same for Home and End.  On UNIX and on Windows, Home and End move to the head and tail end of a line.  On Mac, they move to the head and tail end of a page.  Then again, this is just semantics---this isn't really missing features, because I've just had to learn Apple-Left and Apple-Right for that.  No problemo, I can adjust.

And then we have Spaces, also known as multiple desktops, a standard feature of UNIX machines for years.  Windows still doesn't have it.  Hurrah for Mac.  BUT HOW THE HELL DO I GET AN OPENED WINDOW FROM "SPACE" 1 TO "SPACE" 6?!  That's the whole bloody point!  No, apparently I can open a programme window on desktop one, and another couple on desktop three, but I can't move them across desktops.  Why the hell include the damn feature then?

You know what, I can't even rant anymore.  If I rant like this anymore, I'll die of apoplexy.