I was in a busy station in The Netherlands today, and went into a largish newsagent.
Print media appears to be thriving in The Netherlands. There are Dutch versions of all the usual suspects and then a delight (collective noun for magazines in any language) of publications that I had never seen before, but of obvious Dutch origin. Flow, that I came across for the first time in England a few weeks ago, is a particular gem: Niche-niche, matt paper-stock, thoughtful layout, tapping into a myriad of contemporary anxieties, all beautifully bejewelled by fonts de jour. But it was one among many really attractive magazines I could easily have schlepped home with me, had I the space and ability to carry more weight.
I am a product of the analogue age, so getting excited about print media is probably expected. But I was surrounded by digital natives who were as interested in these tangibles as I was. It occurred to me, then, that we cannot predict the effects of change. Nor how people will deal with it.
The invention of the railway led to the ubiquity of the newsagent which led to the invention of the paperback which persists today despite the demise of the steam engine. This was not an outcome that could have been foreseen when the steam engine was first being improved or the railways being developed, because the paperback didn’t yet exist. A bit like a Uber and Airbnb, it was a disruptive innovation of its time: an existing product tweaked for a new market, in this case, the commuting class.
I am curious about the new things that will come along or occur as a consequence of the elements that comprise Industry 4.0. We can expect some things, of course: autonomous vehicles are a threat to professional drivers, AI will threaten knowledge workers, robotics will probably deliver our pizzas. But serendipities like the invention of the paperback are some of the joyous unintended consequences to which I am rather looking forward. That, and the continuance of thoughfully designed print products to ogle whilst on my travels.