Martin Banks, Personal Computer World 05/86 - checked

May 1986

Well, you've bin and gorne an' dun it, ain,t ya. Of you went down the high street and bought a 57-node networked PC system/Sinclair Spectrum (delete whichever is inappropriate to the whims of your bank manager).

Now you've got it home and, being the clever little....... (fill in as seems plausible) that you are, you've even got it working. This qualifies you to be managing director of ICL at the very least. Having achieved this impossible task, you suddenly realise that something is wrong, something is missing. But what, you wonder with increasing frustration, can it be?

The pound drops (it used to be a penny, but what with inflation and the like....). The operating system manual says quite clearly that you shouldn't use the distribution disk in your computer. Instead, it says you should make a copy and use that, so you look around your house and garage; you go to the dustbin and search through the discarded boxes the computer came in. Somewhere, you feel, there must be this `blank disk' to which the manual refers.

After fruitless hours of searching you give up and, tail neatly deposited between legs, make your way wimpishly back down the high street to the dealer from whence you came. "Um", you say by way of incisive opening, "the blank disk thingie, I haven't got one".

"Blank disks?" says a member of staff, "certainly". On handing over a box of ten the magic words are uttered: "that will be £32.80, please".

You have discovered one of the fundamental rules of computer ownership; the price doesn't stop when the purchasing cheque is cleared by the bank. The costs just seem to go on and on. What is more, the greater the number of functions you hope to perform with the machine, the greater the other costs are likely to be.

For the home-loving Spectrum owner the questions of operating cost are probably fairly marginal, but for anyone, be it company or individual, who plans to use a computer for business purposes these costs not only have to be taken into consideration, they have to be accounted for where it hurts most... the debit column.

This realisation came to me recently. Having existed, like many a journalist, on a borrowed this and a loaned that, I felt it was time I actually had one of these computer thingies for myself. Now, to be fair to a couple of manufacturers of small, home-like computers, I already had some hardware lying around. None suited the purpose of being the business-oriented machine I needed, however.

With specifications studied and contents of wallet exhumed and brought to account, a choice was made and a deal done. The transportable PC compatible from Italy (no I refuse to tell you the make) duly arrived, as did a printer some days later. More dipping into the back pocket brought forth some word processing software and a box of blank disks and there I was, ready to go.

Well, not exactly ready, after all. I looked at the printer and thought, "ah". It seemed an intelligent response to the situation at the time though it didn't get me very far. In time I deduced that something was missing.....paper. Being a journalist one gets sent all sorts of stuff through the post and it happened that I had recently received a catalogue full of supplies for the 'compleat computerer'. "Salvation is at hand" thought I and dived into its pages. "I'll have a box of paper, some blank disks (better have lots of those, they're always useful), some spare ribbons for the printer - so what if they only come in boxes of five, they'll always be useful."

While I was at it I noted down such essential bits and pieces as disk drive cleaners, screen and keyboard cleaners and various other bits and pieces I thought might be necessary. Line by line, the list of things I needed to actually make this computer really do something useful was growing.

Bit by bit it was also getting more expensive. I sat down and totted things up. I realised with a certain sense of dismay that I was preparing to spend around 10% of the purchase price of the computer on supplies which were essential to its operation. It was a factor I had never really noticed before when using borrowed hardware, which in any case was often with me for only review. The manufacturer would often say things like "and here's some paper and some blank disks", and I would think no more about it.

Now here I was, faced with the prospect of having to spend real money if this computer was to be anything more than an atmosphere for Flight Simulator. Not only was it costing me money that first time, the prospect loomed of this expense being an on-going scenario. At this point, I could see me and my bank manager having a certain difference of opinion. Since then I have thought about a maintenance contract, and found that the cost is over 21% of the purchase price, annually. This means that I will have to keep shelling out around 30% of the purchase price every year to keep the computer going. And that is something I now need to do. Once you commit to computing, you're stuck with it for good or ill (I say here that, so far, it has been all good).

But that is just me whingeing, isn't it? Well maybe, but what about all those people just getting into computers, especially those small to medium sized companies who are at last getting interested now that networking is looking good. They are contemplating spending maybe £12,000 - £15,000 on `the complete solution to your problems', which indeed the chosen system may be.

What they may not realise is that they are also taking on a running cost of upto £4,500 a year for the privilege. On balance it shouldn't be considered that much for what you get, but it probably will be.

But if that sounds a lot, what about all those mega-corporations now planning networked systems in their mega-office-blocks? The on-going costs of maintenance and essential supplies must be staggering for some of these companies. It makes one think of people like Kodak, the camera makers, who discovered the ultimate marketing trick.

Having created a demand for photographs they then made the cameras cheap so that everyone would buy one. Then, all the people would need would be film, and film.

There could, I have come to realise, be gold in the hills of supplies.

end