Thursday, November 14, 2024

Missing Mike Shatzkin

Mike Shatzkin who passed away last week was a friend of mine.  Mike was a walking encyclopedia of the publishing industry and if he didn’t recall something he would call on his father’s long publishing experience to make a point or correct some bit of information. I first met Mike in the mid-1990s when he was working with Vista Computing to organize and present expert knowledge sessions about the industry. We didn’t interact at these sessions, but I recall immediately recognizing that Mike had a gift in thinking about big ideas and then determining what the consequences of those ideas would be.  Later, when I was newly installed at Bowker, he called me up with one of his signature lines, “I have an idea” and so he and Jim Lichtenburg came out to New Providence. 

Bowker had inherited a website named Bookwire from Publisher’s Weekly and Mike wanted to take it over from us and build it into a book and reader information hub. We already had traffic, but we had no idea what to do with this site. Mike saw the future: His vision for Bookwire in 1999 was Goodreads and Shelfari in 2005 but of course we never did the deal and Bookwire eventually disappeared.

As many of us who worked with Mike know, he prefaced may interesting and thought-provoking things with, “I have an idea” which was frequently followed by, “You know, wouldn't it be interesting (or great) if….” It is a testimony to Mike’s knowledge, intelligence, and persistence that he had (and held for years) the ears of many publishing leaders from John Ingram to Steve Riggio to Markus Dohle to Peter Wiley and it is such an incredible thing that Mike’s council and advice was so well received by the leaders of this industry.

We met for lunch many times and we met regularly at conferences, and he was always on point. He invited me to lunch after I was bounced from Bowker to see what I was planning to do. Lunch with Mike was always challenging and informative but at the end of the meal he asks “Why do you think you were fired?” and I say “Because I didn't kiss the owner's ass enough.” Mike says, “Well that wasn't very smart was it?”  He was often funny and practical. 

Many of you reading this will not know that Mike debated starting his own blog and, as hard as it is to believe if you know Mike, he wasn't sure if he could keep up with regularly posting!  It is impossible to believe Mike wasn't confident he had enough to say on a regular basis. I had launched PND a few months before and I was generating some attention (now dissipated), so he asked me if he could post to PND as an experiment. I had no hesitation in agreeing and this is where his first Shatzkin files post post was made (and 2nd). Needless to say, the stats were good, his responses and interactions were positive, and the rest is history. PND benefited from the attention but Mike’s influence via his long running blog was hugely significant to understanding the industry and the forces at play over the past 20 years.

During the Google book digitization controversy, Mike reached out to me with one of his “Wouldn’t it be interesting” ideas about trying to determine how may book license orphans existed.  At the time there were many wild estimations, but Mike and I thought about how I could come up with an estimate using some of the data Bowker and others had collected over many years. By now, I was long gone from Bowker, but this eventual report and PND post still generates consistent web traffic and for me, the work generated many conference appearances and notoriety.  This was a great example about Mike’s willingness to engage others in his work and refer work to other consultants like me. Mike knew what he was good at, and he also knew what bored him and he regularly referred potential and sometimes actual consulting clients to me. For this I am forever grateful.

Some of you will recall his keynote speech at one of the early Digital Book World (or Information Pays) conferences where he really commanded the audience and spoke expansively about the publishing business and the impact of digital workflows and reading. A week or so before that speech he invited me to his office (and for some reason the illusive Mrs. PND came along, and Martha was also there) because he wanted to run through the speech with me and get my feedback. I recall this often because I see how this showed how much he respected my input. There was one invite I wish I was able to make and that was a reunion of the band he used to manage – just hilarious if you can imagine it, but I was out of town that week.

I miss Mike and of course I can only regret that I didn’t follow up the last time we met over a year ago when we parted and agreed to do lunch again. Which never happened. Mike is kicking back now reading digitally – on a flip phone or e-reader it doesn’t matter, and by now has confirmed that there is no god. Mike, we miss you and love you and it is very likely many of us will be seeing you soon.

Farewell friend.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

It’s a Beeping Problem

 

Mick Jagger says “When you call my name, salivate like Pavlov’s dog.”  He could have said “When the toaster pings…

The relentless beep-beep-beeping of electrical appliances has become the soundtrack of our daily lives. And it’s not that these notes are soft and soothing; they seem designed to strike deep in your central cortex. The sound is not even rhythmic, more like an overeager nine-year-old banging away at the triangle in the annual school concert. And, honestly, we all know they were always the least talented.

From microwaves to washing machines and toasters to seat belts, machines are all hard coded to create the worst kind of interruptions. Machines are not sentient (yet, so they say) but, somehow, they’ve gained a capability which engenders blind rage in plain ordinary householders. These buzzers, pings and beeps cannot be turned off. Call customer service and they tell you: “It can’t be done, Mr. Pavlov. It is considered a feature, not a bug.”

The sound of a bell triggered salivation in Pavlov's dogs and, in a direct correlation, the ping, beep, buzz of an appliance signals that – somewhere somehow – you’ve screwed up. Forget to remove the laundry: Buzz. Left your tea in the microwave: Ping. Sitting in an exit row: Beep! Who’s really in charge? The machines have undergone their own bizarre form of behavioral training and we are running around the house all day chasing beeps.

Why does the microwave feel compelled to announce its victory so loudly? Perhaps it believes that, without fanfare, we mere mortals would be unable to muster the responsibility or recall necessary to retrieve our leftovers. Every laundry cycle is punctuated with a series of beeps even less meaningful than those from the toaster. Maybe they’re communicating with each other?

Anyway, perhaps there's a deeper lesson to be gleaned from the incessant beeping of our household appliances. Just as Pavlov's dogs learned to associate the sound of a bell with the promise of food, we too have formed an attachment to the beeps that punctuate our daily routines. They serve as markers of progress, reminders of tasks completed and signals of impending action. In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, the predictable rhythm of electronic beeps provides a sense of order and control, however fleeting it may be.

Nooo!!! That paragraph was written by the chat machine. They’re conspiring!  Make it stop!

I often wonder if the engineers and designers of these machines actually use them themselves. Perhaps they’re all washing their clothes down the river and making toast on a fire. It cannot be that they are not irritated as all fuck by the incessant buzz, ping, tings just like us ordinary folk. It’s enough to endure the quirks and idiosyncrasies of modern living without these ridiculous “emergency” signals making us salivate like a dog. Please make it stop.