A computer operating system is like a desk. It should be comfortable to work at; sturdy and stable; handsome to look upon, but not distracting; it should be able to store files and tools away when not in use, but keep them accessible when you need them. But above all else, an OS should get out of the way and let you get your work done. Now imagine if your desk were enormous—taking up a significant portion of the room you keep it in. To get started working requires unfoldings, knob-twistings and other complex procedures. When you finally are seated, you open a drawer on your desk to get a new pen and the drawer instantly snaps shut on you, saying “Do you really want to use that pen? It’s new and I don’t know where it came from.” Then you say, “Yes, I bought the pen and I’d like to use it. I know where it came from.” And then your desk replies, “All right, fine. Use the pen, but before you do, I want to make sure that I’ve expressed my reservations about that pen. It’s a fountain pen and those have been known to explode and shoot ink all over the place. You’ve been warned.”
It sounds silly, but that’s exactly the problem with Windows Vista, a big, creeping, cumbersome embarrassment for Microsoft the past few years. The worst part is that Vista was an honest attempt to deal with the consequences of the success of Microsoft’s Windows XP’. The ubiquity of Windows has made it a frequent target of cyber attackers and criminals, and the reviled User Account Control was intended to create a barrier so no program could install itself on your computer without your consent. The world got more dangerous, so Windows got more protective. The slow boot time and bloated size of Windows were consequences of the system’s need to be a photo viewer, media player, e-mail client and movie editor. And because, unlike Apple’s Macintosh OS, Windows is built to support thousands of potential computers with millions of potential peripherals, it must have generic support for most of those things built in.
A computer operating system is like a desk. It should be comfortable to work at; sturdy and stable; handsome to look upon, but not distracting; it should be able to store files and tools away when not in use, but keep them accessible when you need them. But above all else, an OS should get out of the way and let you get your work done. Now imagine if your desk were enormous—taking up a significant portion of the room you keep it in. To get started working requires unfoldings, knob-twistings and other complex procedures. When you finally are seated, you open a drawer on your desk to get a new pen and the drawer instantly snaps shut on you, saying “Do you really want to use that pen? It’s new and I don’t know where it came from.” Then you say, “Yes, I bought the pen and I’d like to use it. I know where it came from.” And then your desk replies, “All right, fine. Use the pen, but before you do, I want to make sure that I’ve expressed my reservations about that pen. It’s a fountain pen and those have been known to explode and shoot ink all over the place. You’ve been warned.”