Lost Highway page 2 

"The Highway," Gates says, will change the way we work and play. It's certainly changing his  job.





 






In "The Road Ahead," a book-and-CD-ROM package, Gates "predicts the future for you" (as Newsweek's cover put it). And, surprise!, things look bright indeed to America's richest guy. The "information highway" -- Gates generally clips it to a plain "the highway" -- isn't here yet; the Internet is only a genetic precursor, according to Gates. But when "the highway" itself arrives at our doors, with its ubiquitous high-bandwidth digital video feeds, our lives will undergo a seismic change for the better. 


This "World of Tomorrow" prognostication game is old enough hat that even Gates admits many of his predictions will soon look comical. The CD-ROM's video portrait of "the highway" circa 2004 -- a world of heavy makeup, bad Muzak and super-efficient cappuccino bars -- will make for good party entertainment a decade hence. So will its wide-eyed virtual-reality walk-through of the still-unfinished Gates mansion, the Hearst Castle of the '90s.






"The Road Ahead," like an AT&T ad, is built around a ritual repetition of the word "will."  I used the CD-ROM's "full text search" function and, though it wouldn't tell me how many times "will" appears, it reported that the word turns up on just about every page. 


You will use "the highway" to "shop, order food, contact fellow hobbyists, or publish information for others to use." You will select how, when and where you wish to receive your news and entertainment. You will benefit from lower prices and the elimination of middlemen that the network's  "friction-free" marketplace allows. Your wallet PC will identify you at airport gates and highway tollbooths. Your children will tap a torrent of homework helpers.


 As the CD-ROM narrator breathlessly puts it, "The information flow into your home will be incredible!" ("Get the mop, Martha!")


At some point, all these "wills" change in character from predictive to prescriptive, and Gates' friendly if cool tone acquires an undercurrent of coercion. The promise of "the highway," according to Gates, is that it will allow us all to control our destinies more fully. The not-so-well-buried subtext of "The Road Ahead," though, tells a different story -- of Gates' and Microsoft's desperate struggle to maintain control of the high-tech marketplace.



"The Road Ahead" won't satisfy readers curious for insights into Chairman Bill's psyche; it mostly has the bland, confident air of an annual report. But in its very first chapter -- next to a cute high-school picture of Gates and Paul Allen scrunched over an old teletype terminal -- Gates does give one clue to his mindset. He was attracted to computers as a kid, he explains, because "we could give this big machine orders and it would always obey."



It's easy to jump on a line like that and make Gates out as some kind of silicon-chip Nazi. But of course he's only being honest about the attraction computer science has always held for engineers, enthusiasts and precocious children: the appeal of instantly responsive, utterly submissive systems that can be gradually massaged toward perfection. 



Though digital technology invites its creators into a world of absolute control, the computer market remains a place of frustrating chaos. Gates long ago adopted the strategy that made Microsoft's fortune: ship early with imperfect products, seize market share and then upgrade toward an acceptable level of performance. This drives engineers nuts, but it's sharp business, and it has kept the company on top of the software industry -- until now.



Next page: The road gets rougher