Europe’s educational microcomputing

Press, 8 July 1986, Page 32

Europe’s educational microcomputing

A battle for hearts and minds

By

PIP FORER.

Whether it has ever been proved to be correct or not, there is a conventional wisdom that education is a strategic market for computer manufacturers.

It may be smaller and less profligate than the total business market It may be peopled with individuals who want to do all manner of weird things with computers. But through the educational market pass tomorrow’s users and deci-sion-makers. Had the Jesuits been into hardware Ignatius Loyola might have rephrased himself to say "Give me the student user and I will give you the man.” Spurred by similar convictions computer companies have shown themselves keen to influence the choice of machines that schools and colleges buy. This brings a certain spice to the education market, a market which is more complex and demanding than most

Added to this there is always an element of national pride. A country may not care if its tax returns are processed by a piece of machinery manufactured in Massachusetts or Alabama, but it is far more sensitive as to who made the machine little Jane or Johnny will sit in front of at school. Market forces get complicated a little further too by the lobby calling for standardisation of equipment for educational reasons (all the hardware companies applaud this, just so long as it is their machine that gets the nod). Such standardisation, coupled with policies to introduce machines as regulation school equipment, can create overnight an enormous and ■often vulnerable market. Naturally all of this, in turn, excites local hardware manufacturers.

All these pressures at work have the makings for a Le Carre tale of intrigue in which the free market, at best, ends up somewhat compromised. North or south, east or west — national policy, national face, Mammon and educational bureaucracy form a heady cocktail. Nor has the manoeuvring overseas subsided after the first wave of machine pur-

chases. As more vested interests have entered the fray and demands have grown for bigger (if not always better) machines, so the stakes and intrigues have grown. Not surprisingly, the grail of an acceptable educational microcomputing standard has come no closer to attainment. The New Zealand tale is fairly well known. Rejoice that we are not alone — the problems are world-wide.

How has Europe coped with its educational microcomputing? So far with little cohesion. Round one started in Britain in 1981 when the 8.8. C. microcomputer led the first European responses to the dominance of American hardware (at that time Apple Ils and Commodore Pets). In what was overtly a campaign for computer literacy the British Broadcasting Corporation’s stature was enlisted to promote a British microcomputer for home and education. The anticipated winner of the design tender for this, Clive Sinclair, was beaten by an unknown Cambridge company, Acorn (which produced from a hat what arguably remains the basis of the best eight-bit educational microcomputer system so far implemented). Interestingly, the funding supporting the machine’s initial sale to schools came not from education, but from the Department of Trade and Industry, which continues to be a big sponsor of new educational technology. “Very interesting,” noted the sceptics.

Just across from the white cliffs of Dover, Britain’s fellow Europeans watched developments with Interest. Would the gambit be an educational and commercial success? As acceptance mounted, some countries produced local machines and limited educational programs in imitation of the 8.8. C. (Most sat on their hands and hoped that something as expensive as this would go away from the educational vote.) The French produced elegantly Gallic Micral machines, but stumbled on external sales. Philips,

a very likely source for a new machine, produced a‘ disappointing first offering in the Netherlands. The Yugoslavs wrestled with implementing a system for two alphabets and five national languages. In general, national funding was minimal. Nonetheless, innovative institutions and individuals found finances from’ unexpected sources to experiment with a polyglot of machines. How many Bavarian tortes and Belgium tartes must have been sold in aid of school funds in unknown. The Germans liked Commo-, dore 645, the Irish leaned towards Apples . . . all with a rich variety of alternatives. With the exception of the 8.8. C. Micro, most local products came too late and were inadequate in open competition, even in their home markets. The nett result was typically European — a civilised chaos.

The 8.8. C. Micro meanwhile headed towards maturity. It spawned a whole retinue of governmentbacked projects designing software to make it educationally ever more useful. By 1984 more and more of this activity had resulted in published software of, by current standards, very high quality across a very wide range (note the caveat though). Software, of course, is the essence of any machine’s worth. Educational software (as opposed to general purpose creative software) is the hardest to write and least profitable to produce — one reason why it is usually the slowest to appear. Three years after the 8.8. C. Micro’s appearance the resource became significantly large. Anglophone countries (especially Australasian ones) found this an added attraction of the machine. Naturally it looked less useful to an Indonesian or Iranian.

Technology marches on, however. One of the crazier maxims of the educational market is “if there is a software base the machine must be obsolete.” Certainly a lag always exists between what is an exciting machine to work on and a practical one to teach with. As they exhausted the options of simpler projects, members of the establishment of educational software developers

naturally began to propose more ambitious programs. Many sought the power for this from 16-bit machines, most of .which emanated from the busi-ness-oriented design of the IBM PC.

One of the (some would say spurious) attractions of any MS-DOS machine is compatibility to a standard, such as it is. This, and the promise of an existing software base, began to attract new admirers among educational administrators. They began to wonder whether this could be the solution to the distressing plurality of. machines in their schools, as well as offering an experience of “real world” computing. The real crunch, however, was that it became appreciated that MS-DOS machines were simple to implement Even a local manufacturer could do it The stage was set for round two of the game. So it is that in the year of grace, 1986, several European education systems have elected to make a significant commitment to hardware and to recommend 16-bit systems to complement their 8-bit machines. Ever willing to learn from the 8-bit exercise, the Europeans have predictably decided to do this by designing a whole new suite of strictly national machines. This time they are not quite so late, and technically they are superior to the obvious overseas rivals. Sadly, however, most of these local designs are incompatible at the hardware level with each other and with the industry standard. The signs suggest that Britain will buy British, machines (the Nimbus and Acorn Master 512). The Netherlands is looking at a three-firm consortium to establish a standard on which all three may compete (including Philips and IBM Holland). Denmark is said to be working along similar lines. All plan to put significant effort into developing their educational software base to fit this new environment over the next three years. At best this is a step in the right direction, albeit only towards a Clayton’s compatibility. At worst it is a disastrous timing and Inappropriate technology — too arcane and too late.

There are at-least two reasons for this. The first is that standardisation has very real dangers in times of dramatic technological change. It is sensible, convenient and stultifying. The more prosaic is that if you are designing software for 1989 you do not want to do it within the limits of a basically 1980 system. There , are whole new thresholds out there. Clever people are continuing to offer significant new products, with far better pedigrees, for use in education. Why •make your big move right now? There is an argument that says that for the non-specialist, a machine should be simple to use, or clever enough to make itself seem simple. In education the good eight-bit machines represent the former option, the newest genera-, tion of large-volume micros the latter. The MS-. DOS machines sit uncomfortably between the two. One aspect of the problem is that none of the newest generation ol machines are currently European. Talking to European educationalists many teachers seem to feel adequately served by their eight-bit machines. Most software developers admit an admiration for the latest American machine developments. Some actually go so far as to use them. Sadly most shake their heads and admit they can politically

see only one machine they can get support to work on — the local offering, .whatever its limitations. Few believe their governments will handle the concept of national software run on an international machine. Acting) this way may turn out to be unfortunate. Apart from at least three existing machines that exhibit some exciting educational. possibilities (the Atari 1040, Amiga, and Macintosh), Carnegie Mellon University In the United Stated has started releasing details of its 3M micros. These are not produced by the well-known company,— the title represents a piece of numeric fetishism. A million bytes memory, a million instructions per second and a million pixels on the screen (1600 by 1000). IBM and Digital have worked on. the project defining a system standard, a standard in which Apple among others have announced intentions to participate. it is said that a heavily disguised (to the user) Unix forms the foundation of its operating system, which has been designed with the needs of education in mind. It has an environment strong on graphics, mice and windows. Heady stuff, but a realistic shape for the later 1980 s. Meanwhile, back in Europe, the various 16-blt patois move towards implementation. This may

sat(y pride and profit in the ihort run. How it will sat y the real judges in the long term — the teaiers and the students mains to be seen. A Eunpean ’’ looking 'skywrds might ponder the hropean aircraft lndustr| and wonder who made the KLM or Luftimsa plane moving overnad. Most likely it is a Botig or Douglas, but it milt just be a European Orbus. There is a lessonlthere, and the Europuis have started to recognie the challenge. Acorn, wivetti and Thomson (baveen them representing! significant proportionbf the European markethave initiated design stilies for a European aicational standard. Tl technology is there, ad the expertise. Can it blhamessed? Will it be: thit time lucky?