74GB
I contemplate the importance of the past in a profession of non-stop newness.
There are 74GB. That’s what I want to delete from the department’s file archive on the university’s file server. That hunk of bits represents more than 10 years of accumulated notes, HTML files, scripts, photos, Visio diagrams, backup copies, abandoned Photoshop mockups. Most of them are more than 6 years old – from a previous era of website development and digital publishing. What possible good could all of these files still be?
It’s said that modern society has no sense of history. The 80’s, which only happened 30 years ago, have already come and gone a second time from popular culture. Vietnam, Woodstock, the oil crisis, the hostage crisis – even the word crisis – these are words only older people will say. But with web designers and developers, the problem is even worse. Font tags? Tables? <center>? Wha? These are not from all that long ago. Remember Cyberstudio? Director?
Our history disappears under the breaking waves of the latest thing. CSS gives way to SASS and LESS. Flash is all but lost to HTML5 and jQuery. Does anyone still write ‘normal’ javascript? Does anyone still use IE6? I don’t mourn these losses. In culture it’s cliche to look back on the good old days, but in our line of work we celebrate the fact that we never have to again deal with the differences in DHTML for Netscape vs. Internet Exploder even as we embrace the chaos of internet-capable devices (have you tested your website on a Playstation yet?) and the gremlin-like multiplication of media queries in our stylesheets.
But history is there for us to learn from. History is mistakes. History is the first time we tried something and got it all wrong. We learn from history. It informs our future. The history of others is just as instructive as our own history. How did other people try and fail? What mistakes can I avoid? What did they finally do to overcome their problems? Or, more simply, “am I throwing away valuable knowledge that is hidden like diamonds in 74GB of kimberlite?”
I’m not so sure. The truth is, sometimes I do look back on the “good old days” of my own web design experience. I look fondly upon the work I did when I had no idea what I was doing. It might not have been my best work, but some of my most creative work was done when I didn’t know the rules. When I wasn’t saddled by my own experience or boxed-in by ‘best practices’ (or even practicality) my mind was free, my imagination took over and I did some pretty cool things. Some of them were simply experiments or projects that never saw the light of day. But they are creations I take bittersweet pride in. Where did my creative spirit go? It was tamed by experience, domesticated by history. That hurts a little. I may be more successful as a web designer and publisher now. I know more. But am I better? Am I proud of my own work? Mostly… no.
The grown up in me knows the solution. I need to learn from experience – absorb the wisdom of history – but still maintain the free mind required to be truly creative. Easier sad than done. Sometimes the urge to simply wipe the hard drive, destroy the CD archive, and start with a fresh install is too much to ignore. The good cook starts with a clean kitchen, fresh ingredients, and an empty restaurant. The successful quarterback forgets the last play whether it was a touchdown or a pick six. And yet modern cuisine would not be so without the lessons of culinary history. Good football players know and acknowledge the history of the game. There is a time for the past and a time for the present. Where’s my game face?
I prefer the creative moment. I’m happiest in the new project when the research is done and it’s time to put pixels on the screen. Happiness is the blank canvas, the empty <body> tag, the infinite possibility between { and }.
I have to make space somewhere for the past as well. Maybe not 74GB worth, but something.