I'll start with the clinical: according to the dictionary (and Wikipedia), poverty is "the state of one who lacks a usual or socially acceptable amount of money or material possessions." So if you don't have as much as everyone around you, you're poor.
I'll move on to the personal. Poverty is the state of waking up freezing in the middle of the night because it's a waste of money to run the heat when everyone is sleeping anyway, and you need that money to buy lunch meat from the "eat it tomorrow or it will kill you" clearance bin. Poverty is the state of making that lunch meat last a week and a half, even after the edges have started turning green. Poverty is sending your little sisters to beg staples off the people in the crap-ass apartments surrounding yours, because everyone is poor, and everyone is hungry, and cute little girls stand a better chance of success than anybody else. That's poverty.
The U.S. Census Bureau said that 43.6 million (14.3%) Americans were living in absolute poverty in 2009. According to the report they released this past Tuesday, the national poverty rate rose to 15.1% in 2010...and we still don't know what 2011 is going to look like.
This is the "official" poverty level, by the way; there are a lot of sociologists who think that the actual poverty level is much higher, since we calculate using a "socially acceptable miniumum standard of living" that was last updated in 1955. To quote Wikipedia again: "The current poverty line only takes goods into account that were common more than 50 years ago, updating their cost using the Consumer Price Index. Mollie Orshansky, who devised the original goods basket and methodology to measure poverty, used by the U.S. government, in 1963-65, updated the goods basket in 2000, finding that the actual poverty threshold, i.e. the point where a person is excluded from the nation's prevailing consumption patterns, is at roughly 170% of the official poverty threshold."
Things that did not exist in 1955: home computers. The internet. Ebook readers.
It is sometimes difficult for me to truly articulate my reaction to people saying that print is dead. I don't want to be labeled a luddite, or anti-ebook; I love my computer, I love my smartphone, and I love the fact that I have the internet in my pocket. The existence of ebooks means that people who can't store physical books can have more to read. It means that hard-to-find and out of print material is becoming accessible again. I means that people who have arthritis, or weak wrists, or other physical disabilities that make reading physical books difficult, can read again, without worrying about physical pain. I love that ebooks exist.
This doesn't change the part where, every time a discussion of ebooks turns, seemingly inevitably, to "Print is dead, traditional publishing is dead, all smart authors should be bailing to the brave new electronic frontier," what I hear, however unintentionally, is "Poor people don't deserve to read."
I don't think this is malicious, and I don't think it's something we're doing on purpose. I just think it's difficult for us, on this side of the digital divide, to remember that there are people standing on the other side of what can seem like an impassable gorge, wondering if they're going to be left behind. Right now, more than 20% of Americans do not have access to the internet. In case that seems like a low number, consider this: That's one person in five. One person in five doesn't have access to the internet. Of those who do have access, many have it via shared computers, or via public places like libraries, which allow public use of their machines. Not all of these people are living below the poverty line; some have voluntarily simplified their lives, and don't see the need to add internet into the mix. But those people are not likely to be the majority.
Now. How many of these people do you think have access to an ebook reader?
I grew up so far below the poverty line that you couldn't see it from my window, no matter how clear the day was. My bedroom was an ocean of books. Almost all of them were acquired second-hand, through used bookstores, garage sales, flea markets, and library booksales, which I viewed as being just this side of Heaven itself. There are still used book dealers in the Bay Area who remember me patiently paying off a tattered paperback a nickel at a time, because that was what I could afford. If books had required having access to a piece of technology—even a "cheap" piece of technology—I would never have been able to get them. That up-front cost would have put them out of my reach forever.
Some people have proposed a free reader program aimed at low-income families, to try to get the technology out there. Unfortunately, this doesn't account for the secondary costs. Can you guarantee reliable internet? Can you find a way to let people afford what will always be, essentially, brand new books, rather that second- or even third-hand books, reduced in price after being worn to the point of nearly falling apart? And can you find a way to completely destroy—I mean, destroy—the resale market for those devices?
Do I sound pessimistic? That's because I am. When I was a kid with nothing, any nice thing I had the audacity to have would be quickly stolen, either by people just as poor as I was, or by richer kids who wanted me to know that I wasn't allowed to put on airs like that. If my books had been virtual, then those people would have been stealing my entire world. They would have been stealing my exit. And I don't think I would have survived.
We need paper books to endure. Every one of us, if we can log onto this site and look at this entry, is a "have" from the perspective of a kid living in an apartment with cockroaches in the walls and junkies in the unit beneath them. A lot of the time, the arguments about the coming ebook revolution forget that the "have nots" also exist, and that we need to take care of them, even if it means we can't force our technological advancement as fast as we might want to. I need to take care of them, because I was a little girl who only grew up to be me through the narrowest of circumstances...and most of those circumstances were words on paper.
Libraries are losing funding by the day. Schools are having their budgets slashed. Poor kids are getting poorer, and if we don't make those books available to them now, they won't know to want them tomorrow.
We cannot forget the digital divide. And we can't—we just can't—be so excited over something new and shiny that we walk away and knowingly leave people on the other side.
We can't.
September 17 2011, 15:07:23 UTC 5 years ago
In practice... Really cheap POD would help, because though I don't think print is dying, it may well be on a path to becoming prohibitively expensive for mass-market. There needs to be a critical mass of people who buy in print, to keep the economies of scale going.
September 17 2011, 19:51:09 UTC 5 years ago
Hm. I never thought about that side of it. I want paper books to continue to be available new, secondhand, and third hand, for those that want them, but my choice has been to buy all my new fiction (which isn't that much compared to some people) in ebook format, or to check "one time reads" out of the library. When I can find cheap epub editions, I'm also buying my favorite books as ebooks, even if I own (multiple) paper copies already because (much more than I anticipated I would) I love my ereader and carrying around 65 books with me at all times. After reading this post and the comments I had already decided to donate my nice editions of some of the books that I now own as ebooks to the library instead of selling them back.
But I think what some of the comments are getting at is that the change to ebooks for popular reading material is somewhat inevitable. And frankly I don't think equipping elementary school kids with ereaders which can be lost, broken, or stolen is going to work as a solution--I can't see them ever being cheap enough to be replaced non-trivially (not to mention the time involved in re-loading the ebooks every time one gets a new ereader). And I can't see parents saying, "Well, since you lost your ereader, you can't read anymore."
I don't read books on my laptop unless there is no other option. One of the things I like most about my ereader is its portability, and that it *feels* like a book in my hands.
But someone commented that there may not always be power to recharge an ereader--and I didn't think much about that either. I take my access to electricity for granted. But I live in an earthquake zone--what happens to my cell phone, laptop, and ereader if my power is out for several days, or if I have to evacuate, and cope with numerous people all trying to access the few electrical outlets that exist at one time? That won't be fun! And is, in the overall scope of that kind of a disaster, a very small matter at best. But I know I would go nuts without reading material, which makes me re-evaluate what should go in an earthquake evac kit.
And some people can't afford electricity...and libraries with free computer access are not within walking distance for many people, so their resources aren't available to all for that reason alone.
I think it is really hard for the "haves" to understand what it is like to be a "have not."
September 17 2011, 20:06:49 UTC 5 years ago
Yes. It is.
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a little bit of thought
September 18 2011, 01:47:53 UTC 5 years ago
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September 18 2011, 17:55:32 UTC 5 years ago
September 20 2011, 01:21:55 UTC 5 years ago
September 18 2011, 05:47:59 UTC 5 years ago
AGREED.
Here's a story:
When I was 15, in 1987, my calculator broke. We couldn't afford to replace it. My deskmate was kind enough to let me use her calculator once she had finished, but by the time we got to trigonometry, it was important to follow the instructions on how to use your calculator to do the exercises.
Consequence: I went from a solid B student with the occasional A, to a C student to C student with the occasional D.
Further consequence: I didn't go on to take any maths options in senior high, I did biology, which was the least maths based of the science options.
That's one piece of equipment, a piece that at that school in that year was considered standard and necessary. But there were kids like me who lost or broke theirs, and there was no safety net in place for us.
In early high school, I loved maths and chemistry. I didn't pursue them not because they were too hard, but because I was lacking a piece of background knowledge.
September 18 2011, 16:11:13 UTC 5 years ago
September 21 2011, 07:31:22 UTC 5 years ago
I am going to be a math teacher, and I am going to do everything I can, if I can, to make sure I have calculators available for my students to use. Because I find your story absolutely revolting, and I never want to watch a bright student spiral downwards over a stupid electronic.
September 21 2011, 11:46:45 UTC 5 years ago
September 19 2011, 18:36:25 UTC 5 years ago
What I want to see if how k-12 textbook licensing ends up working for ebooks. We lost SO MANY textbooks to kids moving without warning or losing them (or, in some cases, deciding that they wanted a copy to keep at home in case they wanted to look at it later and telling us it was lost), and it's not like sending home a bill would result in us getting money for new copies. If the licensing worked such that you were buying x licenses and you could revoke them from one device and put them on another at will, my guess is that many schools like mine would have bought $50 e-book readers for all students because losing $50 when a student disappears or refuses to return their books is less than we lose now. I don't know how well that'd work in terms of them not being stolen, but theft of the bright yellow "school" graphing calculators stayed at reasonably manageable levels so I'm optimistic.
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August 1 2012, 19:55:09 UTC 4 years ago
As with almost everything ever, I suspect there are both advantages and disadvantages to doing it that way. The most obvious advantages I see offhand would be that students who move without warning take a smaller (and, presumably, cheaper) book with them when they go and books taking up less room in backpacks and lockers. I suspect the disadvantages would include more overhead of checking books in and out (in my old district, this had to be done by the librarian's assistant in the bookroom, so took a chunk of classtime in which we had to walk all the way across the campus and wait in line as she dealt with the whole class one by one, plus a lot of hassle dealing with stragglers who were absent on book checkout day) and in different units having different numbers of books available, meaning that a poorly-organized school (which this one was) would have to scramble to find new books every time it turned out we had more missing than we thought we did for the next unit rather than dealing with that once for the whole year in September. (I always planned on it taking at least two or three weeks before all kids would have textbooks, because that school did not check the number of students taking a given level of math against the number of copies of that textbook and deal with making them match ahead of time, meaning that we would inevitably run out of books as we'd lose quite a few each year and there was no money or process to replace them proactively.)