Mac Souls
Over the past couple of weeks a series of unfortunate events has led me to spread my computing across two laptops and a Mac Mini (Long story starting with a flat tire and drowned MacBook Pro). We typically use SuperDuper to move the information on computer into another as part of our regular backup strategy. In this case, I’ve been using Apple’s built-in function to transfer the files and settings, which works incredibly well.
Through all this I realized that the love and personal attachment I’ve always felt for my Mac’s has transferred from the physical machine to the “soul” of the machine. Before I get too spooky, let me explain. I’ve been using Mac’s for two decades. They’ve always been a significant purchase (most computers are), but I really used to geek out on the machine itself. Apple has almost always excelled at merging beauty of form with the highest practicality of industrial design (longevity, durability, easy access to replace parts, etc.). Since I lean on the side of function in design, nothing impresses me more than artists and designers who truly innovate and move the industry forward by creating brilliant art without sacrificing practicality. (And yes, even at current prices Mac’s are still practical over the long haul if you compare their average lifespan to equivalent PC’s)
The new MacBook Pro is no different in continuing the practical work-of-art tradition, but the software has evolved to make moving from one computer to another painless and simple. So simple, in fact, that it’s not difficult to imagine that what you’re actually doing is moving the soul of the computer (that is, everything you do to make it uniquely your own) to another body. Taken a step further, it’s not hard to imagine that this soul will one day live in the cloud and that you’ll be able to access it from any computer or mobile device. Let’s not talk about Matrix-esque hard-wiring quite yet.

At first I was slightly disappointed in myself for losing this enamor for my computer. I wrote it off to growing up, or just the fact that with the business I now own several computers when I used to hold onto just the one. But then I realized all I’ve done is stopped caring so much about the physical body of the tool, and now focus entirely on how I use the tool. I still love my Mac. It’s just that now “my Mac” isn’t really a computer, it’s some transient pile of ubiquitous bits and bytes that have a diminishing relationship to the body they inhabit. I guess you really can’t judge a MacBook by its cover.








