Copyright 1994 Denise Caruso Viewpoint submission Denise Caruso Editorial Director Technology & Media I used to think that order was better than chaos, but now I'm not so sure. Over the years, I've watched computer technology break free of its traditional ties to office automation as telephone and cable providers, consumer electronics vendors, movie studios and publishers of all sizes and stripes discovered the efficiencies of digital power tools. It didn't take long for everyone to realize that no matter what they were doing ‹ creating digital video, using a word processor to edit a book, or transmitting signals through a digital phone switch ‹ all were using the common language of the computer. It didn't take much longer for them to start eyeballing each other's turf. Chaos ensued. Computer and software companies saw no reason they shouldn't become publishers. (Libel insurance be damned.) Print publishers were already using computers to smear ink on paper, so why not eliminate the paper and sell bits? Movie studios salivated to tap a crossover market between action flicks and the huge video game market. And interactive TV looked like a bonanza for everyone, including the telephone companies and cable providers that could charge through the nose for a new premium service. It was all very exciting, but (I groused) this market, whatever it might become, would implode before its time if the lot of them didn't sit down together and agree on some standards. While they were out trying to cram proprietary technologies down the throats of consumers who hadn't yet forgotten Betamax, the world had to wait that much longer for viable products, and I was a little cranky about the delay. But the events of the past couple of years have tempered my enthusiasm for an orderly digital universe. I have learned to stop worrying and love the chaos. It's not that I don't see the benefit of standards. Telephones, televisions, compact discs, cameras, music and video cassettes ‹ none would have become part of the social fabric without various types of standards, from those as simple as the RJ-11 connector for our phone lines, to those so complex they can describe how to lay down digitized music, text and pictures on an interactive CD. And the vast web of networked computers that is the Internet grew like a weed in the rich soil of the defense and research communities precisely because its technical specifications were clearly described and published; virtually anyone who had them could hook up to it. Though new industries can be born, they can't grow without standards. But in today's almost random environment of change, a standard doesn't stand a chance. So-called convergence companies are pouring stunning sums of money into alliances and consortia and joint ventures and acquisitions, most of which are developing separate proprietary technologies, often with people and businesses that they do not know or understand. Corporate partnering of one kind or another has become bedroom farce at its most frenetic: everyone's so hot to trot that they couldn't see a real customer need or market opportunity if it bit them on the nose. Such promiscuity can be enervating if you prefer an orderly universe, or perhaps if you're watching your stock wobble while companies trade each other like baseball cards. In this environment, the probability of getting cuckolded is not insubstantial. Much money and trust will be lost, and companies will fold before this new digital world takes form. But I have decided to embrace the chaos because it is the only force that can possibly shape that world as it emerges. Why? The best reason is that chaos completely flummoxes the existing infrastructure. For the first time in many years, a big company looking for new markets outside its traditional expertise is more at sea than a good startup with a specific technology to sell and/or product to build. And though startups are generally perceived as high risk, you don't get a lot higher risk than putting megamillions of dollars of shareholder equity on the line to do a Really Big Deal that has a so-so chance of bearing fruit. Chaos is also the perfect opportunity to open up public discussion about government's role in this emerging information economy. The conflict between ownership of conduit ‹ i.e., the cable or phone wires ‹ and content, or the movies and programming and services that are transmitted over the wires, will eclipse today's arcane concerns with cross-ownership of cable and telephone companies. A growing number of citizens are concerned about the free speech and other civil liberties issues that may ensue when a few companies control who and what gets on the network. Also of vital importance is how to mandate access to the network for vital, non-commercial purposes such as education and libraries, how we will protect individual privacy, and how we will secure the network from criminals. The business climate will change every time one of these critical issues is put to the test. These twin spectres ‹ government involvement and a business landscape that's constantly redrawing itself ‹ have conspired to make most companies leery of moving forward too quickly, but even more unwilling to stand still. The chaos of the moment has left them with few viable choices: ally, invest or acquire. Though many are joining alliances and at first blush they sounded like a great idea, so far they've proven to be more combative than collaborative. Nearly all the public alliances ‹ from Kaleida Labs and General Magic to the floundering First Cities ‹ are finding that while big partners get you lots of press, managing them is a bit like trying to stuff street cats into a burlap sack. Even if you eventually succeed, you're certain to get bloodied in the process. Other companies, who admittedly don't have either desire or sufficient knowledge to move into new technology areas on their own, are acquiring smaller firms and bringing them inside. Others, more wisely, are making savvy investments and allowing entrepreneurs to grow their own products and cultures without the many pressures of corporate bureaucracies. It's probably this kind of seed money, more than any alliance or joint venture, that will move forward the state of the art for digital media technologies. True innovation only comes when people with great ideas are free to develop them without interference. And even then, the law of the jungle will hold: the vast majority of these startup ventures will fail or wither away. Most of the work being done now, for example, especially in multimedia and CD-ROM publishing, will go the way of all flesh. It's technically amazing to those of us who know what we're looking at, but consumers don't like the stuff enough to buy it. Though in the short term it will be painful for those involved, in techno-geologic time ‹ i.e., a decade from now ‹ we will look back and see that those failures were foundation for future generations of digital artists and inventors. In the spirit of the old axiom that Rlife is hard, then you die,S we are destined for chaos for a good long time, so we may as well enjoy it. Being big or even biggest will not help; even being really really smart won't help. No matter how many companies join forces, no matter how hard one or two or five powerful corporations try to foist their version of the future upon us, what customers will buy is still the critical factor. The evolutionary prize ‹ survival ‹ will go to those who figure out how to materialize that most elemental axiom.