I successfully beat back the temptation to upgrade my pay-as-you go El Cheapo cellphone to a Blackberry, despite the siren-song of GPS and other amenities--namely web/email connectivity that isn't absolutely cheesy.
In a word, convergence. Which only highlights how quickly having both capabilities available in tandem, virtually anywhere in the industrialized world, has become the norm. Yet, convergence sort of implies parallel development...and a certain inevitability besides. But computers, in one form or another, have existed for far, far longer than telephones. Which prompts the thought experiment of "What would have happened if it had been the other way around?"
The short-and-silly answer is that tech. support calls wouldn't have changed much at all. For instance, let's roll back to...
Stonehenge (circa 2500 BCE)
Tech: Acme Megalith Customer Service. How may I rock your world?
Customer: Cute. Look, we've got a problem here. Tomorrow's the Solstice, and I don't think that the heelstone's working right.
Tech: Which model do you have?
Customer: Okay, so we upgraded from Bluestone to the Sarsen edition, and let me tell you, it's been nothing but trouble--
Tech: Have you rebooted since the upgrade?
Customer: What's a "reboot"?
Tech: Well, you need to let the calendar year cycle and use the bluestone to validate the solar and lunar cycles before cutting over to the sarcens. That's on Page 1 of the manual.
Customer: Look. Dude. I don't have time for that. Like I said, the Solstice Festival is tomorrow. This thing cost us a chieftain's ransom: It should just work, okay? Screw your reboot.
Tech: Did you do the upgrade yourself, or did someone else do it?
Customer: Umm, contractors. War captives, mostly.
Tech: [curses under breath] Sir, I'm sorry to inform you that you have more than likely voided your warranty by not using an authorized service contractor for installation.
Customer: Are you kidding me? Do you realize this is the freakin' Solstice Festival, for cryin' in your mead? Great Mother, I've got three Arch-Druidesses breathing down my neck!
Tech: I'm sorry, sir. If you'd like, I can recommend several local authorized technicians who could inspect your Acme Megalith(TM) installation and recommend various recalibration options...
Customer: [hangs up]
And, lest my gentle reader think the Stone Age too primitive, let us fast-forward to...
Rome, (after 100 BCE)
Gaius: Ave. Gaius dicit.
Demitrios: Hey.
Gaius: Demetrios! 'sup, amice mee?
Demitrios: Yeah, so I think I scored the 3G Antikythera device for the boss, but I'm only like 90% positive it's legit. Can you help me out here? There's some serious denari riding on this.
Gaius: Dude! That's not supposed to be out until next calends! Can I scoot over and take a look at it?
Demitrios: Ummm...that might be...problematic. I'm a little ex urbe right now, y'know? This was kind of a big deal.
Gaius: [sighs]
Demitrios: What?
Gaius: Nothing...nothing. We'll do this remotely, then.
Demitrios: So, like, it's metal and has all these chariot-wheel-looking things. With teeth and stuff.
Gaius: [stifling sigh] Right. So far, so good. Where are the date hand, the Sun hand and the Moon hand set right now?
Demitrios: [pause] Which ones are those?
Gaius: Should be right in the front.
Demitrios: Right. Yeah. They're there. [another pause]
Gaius: So...where are they set?
Demitrios: [yet another pause] I'm not sure. Okay, there are these zodiac things on it. Oh, hey, there's Mars. And Venus, too! Speaking of Venus, if you're ever in Aigila, I know this place--
Gaius: Yeah, sounds great. Just...how many gears--I mean things with teeth--does it have?
Demitrios: A lot. Hang on--lemme count. [still another pause] A lot.
Gaius: You know what? I think you've got the real deal there. I say bring it on home.
Demitrios: Kewl. Thanks a lot, man. Tell you what--I'll swing by when I'm back in town & show you, 'k?
Gaius: Sounds like a plan. See ya in a few weeks.
Or, even the much-neglected "Industrial Revolution" of Europe's Middle Ages...
Paris, France (mid-14th century)
Automated Answering: Thank you for calling Acme Astrolabe. Your call is important to us. Please listen carefully to the following options, as they may have changed. For Sales, press I. To speak to a Customer Service Representative, press II. To report a lost or stolen astrolabe, please press III. For all other calls, we'd invite you to press zero, but that hasn't been invented yet. Unless, of course, you're a filthy Saracen, in which case, bugger off.
Customer: [Presses II]
[On-hold madrigals]
Automated Answering: Your call is important to us. All available representatives are currently assisting other customers. Please continue to hold.
[On-hold Gregorian chants]
Tech: Thank you for calling Acme Astrolabe. How may I move Heaven and Earth to assist you?
Customer: Hi. This isn't a big deal, really: I think I just need the Latin manual for this astrolabe I have.
Tech: Milady? I'm not sure I understand.
Customer: I think I have a Greek astrolabe. I just need the Latin instructions--that's all.
Tech: If Her Ladyship doesn't mind me asking, what makes her think that it's a Greek astrolabe? I mean, yeah, we do make those. But they haven't been in use for...well...a while.
Customer: Oh, I'm pretty sure it's Greek. Because the numbers on it are all funny. Not I, II, III, IV, V: You know, all normal and stuff.
Tech: Would Her Ladyship mind telling me how she came by this astrolabe?
Customer: Oh, yes: It was part of my late second husband's estate.
Tech: Does Milady have any idea when her husband--rest his soul--might have purchased it?
Customer: Oh, he didn't. It was part of his legacy from his father.
Tech: [reaches for manuals, stifling sigh] Then might she have an idea of how her late husband's father--rest both their souls--would have purchased it?
Customer: Not exactly. We think that his great-great-great grandfather brought it back from The Crusades. Meaning, of course, the great-great-great-grandfather of my late husband's father. That means that it was Greek.
Tech: Milady's knowledge of history is impressive, certainly. Would she be able to describe some of the inscriptions for me?
Customer: Well, it starts out mostly okay. The "I" has this funny little spur that comes off the top, but, then, it's Greek, right? But where the "II" is, that looks like a sideways pot-hook resting on a horizontal bar. And the "III," well, that's...well, totally foreign. And it just gets worse from there.
Tech: [pause]
Customer: Hello?
Tech: I do apologize, Milady...I'm looking through my manuscripts, but I'm not seeing what you're describing...would Her Ladyship very much mind holding again while I talk to one of my colleagues?
Customer: I can hold.
[On-hold medley of schwamm and sackbutt "Greatest Hits"]
Tech: Still there?
Customer: Yes.
Tech: Milady, again, please let me apologize. But from what Your Ladyship has described, it is an Arabic--meaning Saracen--astrolabe, which we didn't manufacture.
Customer: That's impossible! My second husband's father's great-great-great grandfather was the standard-bearer for Guy de Lusignan himself! That's as Greek as it gets!
Tech: If Milady would care to send the astrolabe to us, our technicians would be more than able to authenticate--
Customer: [hangs up]
Now, don't get me wrong: It's not like I think that civilization hasn't actually progressed, y'understand. That being said, certain...errrmm...constants...aren't difficult to project. Even centuries & millenia back in time.
