Money is always a great motivator. :O)

I hate to say it, but I think it's going to take the current “youth” to age before anything is done about all that. They're the ones that are writing the code and creating the new systems and they're doing it for themselves. Not until they actually get old enough to look beyond themselves will it happen.

What will be interesting is what Social Networks the baby boomers will use. Advertising will boom for that age group. We will be interested in any potion that will give us energy and less wrinkles. And we will follow anyone who we trust, endorsements will rule (and a cost the advertisers will build in, for the early users of their products)
:O)
ophelia

There ought to be going away parties for things you forget. You wake up one morning and you don't know your best friend’s phone number. It's like the information packed its bag and stole out during the night, not leaving a note or even a forwarding address. You feel the empty space in your brain where it lived for however many years it was since you first met, always ready to be summoned, never out visiting relatives.
Perhaps the phone number felt used or taken for granted. But if it did, it should have told you. You could have offered to improve its environment (“I'll make a nice place for you in my Rolodex. I'll put you on speed dial so you don't have to work so hard.”) Even if that gesture failed, you could have hosted a great sendoff attended by all of its friends: your house key; your passwords; your mother's maiden name; your zipper in the up position.

The party would have made the phone number’s departure more graceful, more like an early retirement than an abandonment. The invitation could have suggested that the number was leaving to pursue opportunities in Florida and Arizona area codes, where the pressure wasn’t so intense. The party would have provided a chance for the number’s friends to talk about how they felt. Not incidentally, it might also have given you an early warning of their own intentions.

Password: Everyone in this room loves and respects you, number. As I told you the other day, UR2GR824GeT. I’m planning to stay around for a while, but to be perfectly candid, I don’t really feel secure. A couple of weeks ago he got an email from someone saying they were Yahoo, asking him to confirm me. He totally bought it. Thank God his index finger stuck between “j” and “h” or I’d have been blown–the Valerie Plame of the net.
Key: Believe me, my friend, I know how you feel and you’re smart to be getting out now. He forced me into places where I didn’t fit in. He put me under the mat at the front door and let his friends do what they wanted with me. He sent me to the dry cleaner in his sportcoat. I’m one step away from finding an opening somewhere and never looking back.
Mother’s maiden name: He’s not just losing things, he losing it. He waits on the phone for twenty minutes to talk to the cable people. He finally gets them on the line and they ask for me. He gets it wrong! This is his goddamn mother were talking about. So the cable lady has to ask him one of those secret questions, “What’s was the name of your first dog?” He answers, “Rose.” That’s my name. I felt like an idiot. So then she asks him for the last four digits of his Social Security number. He didn’t do any better. They told me they were crushed.

Zipper: Tell me about it. How do you think it feels to have everyone staring at you because this jerk doesn’t look in a mirror unless he cuts his ear off while he’s shaving? Of course, they can stare their heads off; this guy’s got nothing to see, if you catch my drift. The whole thing makes my teeth hurt. I’m not Velcro; I don’t get lucky.
Though the party would not likely have changed the phone number’s mind, it might have bought you some time with the others. It would have shown that you wanted them to stay; that you needed and relied on them; that you were worthy of their forgiveness.

But in your heart of hearts you’d know that ultimately they would all vanish without giving you the chance to watch them go and to say a proper goodbye. And you’d ask yourself how such important things could simply disappear from your brain. And you’d remember, faintly, that you once knew the answer to that question.