The external version of the Syquest and the Iomega tape and disk drives come in compact plastic cases. It took a mere 10 minutes to connect the drive to my laptop, and the software installation allowed a 10-minute catnap. Installation instructions are clear, and the cabling is goof-proof. One caution: the 230 MB disk is visually identical to the 105 MB model, which had a habit of crashing abruptly after a year or two of daily use. Syquest says the new disks feature enhancements that improve reliability.
So how do removable disks and tapes compare? First, the fundamental difference: removable-disk data is executable; tape data is not. The computer addresses a removable disk just like a hard disk, assigning it a logical drive letter (usually D or E), whereas it can communicate with a tape only through the backup software. In other words, you can run programs and manipulate files on a removable disk. Removables also excel at transferring large amounts of data from one system to another; just perform a simple File Copy operation from the hard to the removable disk. Finally, if you want to secure files, the ability to pop out the disk and lock it up is great.
Tapes, on the other hand, excel at low-cost, reliable copying. Also, the fact that you need more than three 1 GB disks to equal the capacity of Iomega's 3.2 GB tape drive means that with a tape drive, you can launch the backup and head out rather than wait around to switch disks. In terms of ease of use, if you can talk and stick a floppy into the A drive at the same time, you're overqualified to use either one.
For the added versatility of removable disks, you pay quite a bit more than for a tape of equal capacity. A complete tape drive capable of holding 800 MB will cost you a maximum of $180, whereas a complete removable disk system that can hold 1 GB can often cost $600. The contrast in cost is noticeable when you need to copy huge amounts of data, in the 3 GB range: for tape, $300; for disk, $800.
Choosing the type of device is secondary to the key decision to buy something easy to use that makes regular copies of your data. Given the cost in tears, adrenaline, and time that accompanies the loss of months of work, a backup device is a cheap insurance policy that you cannot live without.
David Abrahamson is a major in the U.S. Army, stationed at the Pentagon.
All Keyed Up
The Natural Keyboard looks great and sounds better. But what if you don't touch-type?
Dear Inc. Technology:
Thank you for asking me to review the new Microsoft Natural Keyboard (800-426-9400, www.microsoft.com, $100). However, I must regrettably refuse the assignment and return the keyboard. As a science journalist, I agree that I am an ideal subject to try such a novel device. Aside from an obvious interest in new technology, I spend hours on the telephone interviewing scientists about their esoteric research while typing maniacally to get their words directly into the computer. This can be effective, provided you can type as fast as most people talk, even if their typical statement is along the lines of "the 42-residue polypeptide is one of a variety of human amyloidogenic proteins that can be converted into fibrils by partial denaturation." Needless to say, you have to type fast and keep a clear head; typos can result in grievous errors in fact. While my typing ability is downright impressive, the Microsoft Natural Keyboard seemed like a godsend.
The Natural Keyboard is beautiful, and its curvaceous shape suggests ergonomic wonders of almost salacious promise. Microsoft claims it encourages a more relaxed posture and comfortable resting place for one's hands and enables the user to type with straighter wrists. All this is thanks to a "wrist leveler under the keyboard," which I suppose will reduce my risk of heinous job-related osteopathic problems. It also comes with IntelliType Manager software, which allows me to modify the sound of a keystroke so that it mimics the ka-chunk of a manual typewriter. The keyboard also includes two new keys, which allow a Windows 95 user to open the Start options with a keystroke.
That said, on connecting the keyboard, I remembered that, fast as my fingers fly over the keyboard, I do not touch-type. Rather, I use a variant of touch-typing I call Taubsian-Gothic. It can be developed only through years of experience and requires that your fingers learn the position of the keys by endless repetition of mindless tasks, such as transcribing tapes of scientists speaking about peptide residues. While Taubsian-Gothic is fast, it is not strict. The T key, for instance, can be typed with fingers from either hand, depending on which happens to be in the neighborhood and even in the mood. The same goes for any keys lying between the 3EDC column on the left and 7UJM on the right.
True, the Natural Keyboard allows me to place my hands and wrists at angles that seem to be more like those that Mother Nature intended. But this leaves a sizable gap in the keyboard, which is now split into two chunks, the left-hand side ending with the 6TGB column, and the right-hand side starting with 7YHN. This may be fine for those well-instructed individuals whose typing is of the classic touch-type genre. For me, it creates immediate problems. If, for instance, the right hand decides to do the T job, it finds only empty space where the key used to sit. Suddenly, I find myself looking for the keys before I strike them, and my typing grinds to a halt. I suspect my fingers can learn to adjust, and that once they do, phase transitions will flow into my PC faster than ever. I also suspect that years from now, when my hands are mauled by carpal tunnel syndrome, I will regret my curmudgeonly attitude to learning a new skill. On the other hand, the adjustment to the new keyboard might take weeks, and I could be bankrupt by then.
I am returning the keyboard and going back to the archaic one that came with my machine. I do admit, however, that I was growing accustomed to the soft ka-chunk of the keys. It had a romantic quality that is otherwise lacking in my work.
Sincerely,
Gary A. Taubes
Gary Taubes is a Knight Fellow at MIT.
