There was a torrent of publicity surrounding Apple’s unveiling of its iPad last week. I watched a video of Steve Jobs presenting it, and needless to say, I wasn’t impressed. Here’s a quick rundown of what transpired:
So there’s Steve, standing on a stage in front of a giant screen, dressed to impress sporting mom-jeans with no belt, looking like a hybrid of casual-Friday Barack Obama and circa-’93 Jerry Seinfeld. He wears his most cloyingly excited face as he vaguely describes the device before a digitally projected puff of smoke reveals its name — iPad.
I had problems with the name from the get-go, figuring Apple would run into some trouble using it, as “iPad” sounds vaguely like an already-established product. Well, my intuition was on the right track, although it wasn’t Tampax that came calling but Fujitsu, Siemens, Magtek and a slew of other companies that all have products bearing the name, with varying locales of trademark registry. (Bravo, Jobs — I suppose “iSlate” was too edgy.) Jobs whips out a working iPad, and I can’t help but think the thing looks like a big, fat iPhone, as if they sent it to Wisconsin for a month to gorge itself on cheese, beer and Packers fans’ tears.
To start this high-flying product tour appropriately, Jobs begins by showing the iPad’s unique user-customized backgrounds. Customizable wallpaper intro? It’s like a car salesman pointing out, “Hey— this one’s got a steering wheel!”
My initial frustration with the presentation’s awkward beginning is briefly lifted by a tour of the iPad’s Internet experience, which Jobs, in his most innocently pretentious tone, describes as “the best browsing experience you’ve ever had,” referring to the iPad’s finger-manipulated interface. All right, I’ll take the bait on this one: Instead of browsing or surfing the Web, you get to massage your way though it. Whatever scant sense of Apple’s all-important consumer affection I’d adopted was gradually dismantled with Jobs’ subsequent descriptions of the most obvious and mundane features ever described in seemingly sedative-quelled gaiety.
It’s “phenomenal for mail,” he said. (Mail? But what type, Jobs? Don’t say e-mail; I might blush.) Also, the virtual keyboard is “a dream to type on.” (Of course it is, but not because it’s tangibly illusory, right?) Jobs makes sure to point out the iPad comes with both a calendar and an address book. (Standard?!) And apparently, with the calendar, “You can see your months’ activities, or your days’ activities and everything in between.” (You mean “weeks,” Jobs?) The car salesman continues to point out “seats” and “wheels.”
All things considered, though, awesome job, Jobs. You proved my initial appraisal of the iPad as a big, fat iPhone totally wrong, which is to say, it’s a big, fat, underachieving, Cro-Magnon cousin of the iPhone. I think this is the first time a line of technology has actually devolved, which is to say, has gotten larger and accomplished less. I mean, your customers certainly wouldn’t have had any use for a camera to shoot the thousands of photos they can store on the iPad, and it’s definitely too cumbersome to use as a phone.
Now, to be fair, I realize Apple wasn’t looking to replace the iPhone but rather compete in the e-book market with one that browses the Web. Mission accomplished. Oh, except for the fact they’re competing in a paperback-sized market with a large-print-hardcover-sized product that costs up to $829. You know, why not go the extra mile and make a coffee-table-book-sized iPad. Call it the iPrude. Instead of five absurdly large, traditionally printed books, you’ll just have one absurdly large e-book that costs, say, your good judgment.
So, is the iPad neat? Sure, that’s what Apple does. Is the iPad revolutionary? Of course not, but making people see it that way is also what Apple does. Bottom line: I’m not paying $800 to fingerbang the Internet.
