December 7, 1998
Y2K: It's a human problem, not a technology problem
By Bob O'Donnell
As we approach the one-year mark for the millennium countdown, coverage of the
year-2000 problem is going into overdrive. In addition to spilling enormous amounts of ink
in the trade press, the general press is starting its own wave of stories on the infamous
date issue, with the result that more and more people are being made aware of the issue.
Not surprisingly, most of the articles are gloom-and-doom pieces concentrating on all
of the bad things that might happen on Jan. 1, 2000 (as well as a few other big dates). As
a member of the press, I am saddened to see so many of my cohorts living up (down?) to the
claims of our worst critics: playing up the fear factor and making commentary and
developing conclusions that ignore basic facts.
For example, many articles point to embedded computer systems as one of the problem
areas that's sure to be affected by Y2K and recite all kinds of horror stories about what
will happen to devices using these systems when the clock strikes midnight. I'm sure
you've heard the theories: elevators crashing to the floor, pacemakers stopping, planes
falling from the sky, the entire power grid going down, and so on. The problem is, they're
all lies, according to people who actually work in or closely follow the embedded systems
industry.
At the recent Embedded Systems Conference in San Jose, Calif., analysts and other
industry watchers with whom I spoke were vehement in their critiques of those who claimed
the Y2K sky was falling because of embedded systems. And even more importantly, they
backed up their opinions with solid facts. They pointed out that the vast majority of
embedded systems don't have any clocks and thus are immune to any type of date-related
problem. A PC's microprocessor, for example, is technically an embedded system, and its
calculations are not the least bit affected by date or time. Even those embedded systems
that have clocks rarely keep track of the year; instead, most only monitor the day of the
week or the time in between actions. A pacemaker, for example, only tracks the time
between heartbeats. Similarly, embedded systems in elevators track the day and time of day
-- much like a sprinkler system -- so, for example, they know to go into a low-power mode
on the weekends.
And what about desktop PCs? Sure, some applications need to be fixed, but the infamous
BIOS date rollover problem is so trivial it's almost laughable. For the vast majority of
desktop systems that aren't Y2K-compliant yet, most will simply need to have the date
changed (once) in the OS the first time they are turned on after Jan. 1, 2000. That's it.
Talk to press people who need to sell newspapers and magazines, consultants looking to
make a quick buck, and applications developers in need of a big hit, however, and you
would think the world was going to end. And, of course, combine that with the fact that
there are some people who really do think the world might end at the dawn of the new
millennium, and you have the makings of a monumental issue. (Not to mention a great movie
plot -- look for Hollywood to fan the flames of fear with several Y2K-related flicks in
1999.)
Frankly, I think this is the real problem with Y2K. It's fundamentally a human issue
and it's one that strikes at the very heart of one of our most basic human emotions: fear,
particularly fear of the unknown. One of the things that I find amazing about this issue
is that in all the Y2K coverage I've read, I've yet to see a single reference to the
historical ramifications of the year 2000. It's almost as if everyone is in denial about
how enormous this event is in the course of human history. Regardless of your religious
persuasion or whether you are religious at all, the marking of 2,000 years since the birth
of Jesus Christ is a big deal -- a far bigger deal than whether your computer systems are
going to work properly come Monday, Jan. 3, 2000.
To ignore the historical significance of the new millennium and how it may affect the
way people think and make decisions is a critical oversight. You need to keep it in mind
both as a factor for your own decisions, as well as to help interpret the actions of
others. It's a documented fact that about the time of the first millennium many people
feared the world would end. Despite all of our scientific and technological progress, I
believe that fear still exists in some form in many people today.
In a sense, the computer-related Y2K problems are a great distraction because people
can project that fear onto these confusing machines that many resent anyway for having
taken control over so many aspects of their lives. OK, this is a bit of cheap pop
psychology, but I believe that a good portion of the Y2K hysteria stems from these kinds
of feelings.
But even if the sole reason to be concerned with Y2K is the human issue and not the
technological aspects, that won't negate the potential impact of Y2K. If anything,
fear-based Y2K issues could prove to be much worse than any technology-based problems.
Anyone who follows technology stocks, for example, knows that Wall Street doesn't exactly
work from rational motivations. Fear-based selling could lead to a global recession a lot
more readily than could technology-induced problems.
And this brings me back to my original point. The problem with Y2K is not about
technology, it's about people. It's about people knowing what the real issues are and,
more importantly, knowing what issues aren't real. The only way that this can happen is if
people who are informed on the issue -- such as InfoWorld readers and other
technical types -- spread the word about what's a legitimate problem and what isn't so we
can, collectively, keep the fear factor in check.
Next week: Why Y2K isn't going to be anywhere near as bad as many people think.
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Copyright 1998, by InfoWorld Publishing Corp., a
subsidiary of IDG Communications, Inc. Reprinted from InfoWorld,
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