One of the greatest scams in the world of tech
journalism—in the world, for that matter—is that of the product
reviewer. Reviewers get showered with toys, gadgets and software
from companies hungry for publicity. Some of the stuff gets
reviewed, some gets sent back, and most ends up in the reviewer’s
house. I know: I started reviewing gadgets when I graduated from
Columbia University back in 1988 and spent the next 12 years trying
to keep up with the constant torrent of new stuff.
You might think that it’s fun to have a continual supply of
gadgets and geek toys to occupy your time. In fact, it is
tremendously fun. But it’s also pretty hard to keep up—there is just
so much stuff coming out. What’s worse, I think, is that most
reviewers don’t write reviews that are particularly relevant to the
typical reader. They write about the check-list capabilities that a
product has or lacks, but reading these reviews doesn’t let you know
what it feels like to have the thing in your hand or on your desk.
With this column, I’m starting a new series on
technologyreview.com that will try to change this. While my column
in Technology Review magazine, “The Net Effect,” examines larger
issues of the digital age—with particular focus on privacy—here I’ll
bite into specifics. Each month I’ll profile a new gadget that is
both captivating and significant.
This month, I tried out Handspring’s Treo 270, the latest
incarnation of the Palm Pilot that made its debut back in 1996. In
that time handheld computers have gone from being an object of
ridicule to being an indispensable tech accoutrement for many
knowledge workers. If you have a Palm and a phone, you should think
about getting the Treo—it combines both devices, and more, into a
single unit. If you can’t stand Graffiti (Palm’s weird shorthand
nobody really understands), you should think about getting the
Treo—it’s the first Palm-based system to have a keyboard for your
thumbs. But if you want to look cool in a conventional sort of way,
you should definitely avoid this product.
As its name promises, the Treo combines three basic functions
into one device. First and foremost, the Treo 270 is a cell phone.
For times when a phone is to intrusive, Treo is a two-way pager that
can send short messages to any digital phone or Internet mailbox.
Finally, Treo is an organizer that runs the PalmOS operating
system—one with a great color screen and a glow-in-the-dark
thumbboard, which saves you the chore of learning Graffiti.
For those of us who would never be caught dead with a pocket
protector and feel constricted by pockets bulging and belts drooping
with geekware, the Treo is good news: it lets you shed ounces of
electronics without losing a tad of functionality. What’s more, the
Treo is not just nimble, it’s positively svelte: the Treo 270 is
both smaller and lighter than the Visor Prism, Handspring’s previous
color organizer. (Treo weighs 5.7 ounces, compared with 6.5 ounces
for the Prism.) The smaller size means that the Treo readily fits in
both shirt and pants pockets—something that not even a Palm V can do
with grace.
Alas, it’s conventional wisdom that combining three devices into
one means making compromises: after all, there are smaller phones on
the market today, and many of them get better battery life. But if
you think of the Treo primarily as an organizer—one that happens to
have a built-in pager and cell-phone—then there is really no
compromising at all.
All Treos have a flip-top cover with a window to see the
organizer’s screen. You can quickly check your schedule or address
book without opening the lid by just tapping the buttons along the
bottom of the face. The side of the Treo has a volume control that
does double duty as a jog dial for scrolling the organizer through
lists. The screen itself is magnificent: it’s a brightly-colored
reflective LCD that’s equally visible in direct sunlight, dim light,
or absolute darkness. And unlike other Palm-based machines, the
Treo’s alarm is really loud (thanks, no doubt, to the alarm’s use of
the cell phone ringer.) I can even hear the Treo’s bell when
it is buried in my backpack!