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3.56 AVERAGE
3.56 AVERAGE
adventurous
challenging
emotional
inspiring
tense
medium-paced
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I listened to the first 80% of the book while I was driving on a roadtrip, but I read the rest from a book at the library when I got home. Truth be told, I liked the first third, which was more exciting, but there were nice moments in the other parts, too. The characters were believable, especially as they started changing, and I liked the development of the various relationships. I disagree with previous reviews: the first third might have felt more gadget-to-gadget, but the other two-thirds were not as much about the gadgets the team created as about the development of their desires into realities, the difficulties of balancing morality with business, the challenges that come with being part of a big business/corporation, and the effect technology has on culture. I'm not sure I'd recommend it to anyone, but I did enjoy it.
Update 11/2/13: I just upgraded this book to four stars. It has continued to be in my consciousness since I finished it. Every time I heard about the maker community, 3D printers, cities doing cool things with abandoned malls and WalMarts, or anything else like that, I think of this book and how ahead of its time it was (or how behind the times I was).
Update 11/2/13: I just upgraded this book to four stars. It has continued to be in my consciousness since I finished it. Every time I heard about the maker community, 3D printers, cities doing cool things with abandoned malls and WalMarts, or anything else like that, I think of this book and how ahead of its time it was (or how behind the times I was).
The usual Doctorow: interesting setting in the near future, critical perspective on and lots of references to current technology trends, and a dark take of Disney and the theme park industry. A nice read, all in all.
Quite a good bit of post-bubble second-guessing by Doctorow; some nice characters in this book, and a good piece of future-gazing. An enjoyable read.
Economics is weird. The economy is a social system. Once upon a time, it was based somewhat in reality, with gold standards and natural resources forming a large part of this anchor. At present, it has transformed into a mostly speculative beast, the taming of which is the goal of any number of hedge fund managers, stock market analysts, and economics professors with cushy degrees from Ivy League or wannabe-Ivy League schools. To make matters worse, the economy is based on the behaviour of people.
And people, as a group, are not only irrational but stupid. So the economy is in for a treat.
Makers is to economics what Little Brother is to national security and civil liberties. Cory Doctorow ventures into that curious nexus of technological innovation, outdated corporate laws, dinosaur business models perpetuated by incumbent players, and strong-willed individuals who want to rock the boat. Although definitely science fiction, like Little Brother this book invokes technology that is available in the present day, focusing on the differences such technology is making rather than speculating upon the differences technology will make.
In some sense we have always lived in an information economy, because ultimately it all comes down to information in one form or another. Yet the information economy has never been more obvious in the present era, because technology has removed the barrier to the exchange of pure information. This so-called digital economy threatens incumbent business models—and the corporations that became successful through such models—because digital often turns scarcity into plenty.
Makers uses 3D printers to represent this transition to plenty. But this is more than just making things; it's about what we choose to make. The point of the DIY ("do it yourself") movement is making objects—designing them, constructing them, watching them succeed or fail or adapt to new purposes—is a rewarding effort. Lester and Perry are innovators, and that's what makes them essential to Kettlewell's New Work vision. In a society that tends toward individualism, corporations like Google are succeeding by embracing that individualism, encouraging the creativity of individuals and small groups, then reaping the ideas that result. New Work is the ultimate corporate takeover, harnessing the very bootstraps-entrepreneurial strategy so praised in the United States to generate huge new profits. It is both terrifying and amazing.
Of course, those corporations entrenched in the old paradigms will resist. This is where the law enters the story. Intellectual property law is a morass of complicated statutes, precedents, and procedures. Unfortunately, sometimes corporations will use these laws to eliminate competition. Those corporations want the law to remain as it is—or favour them even more—even as the government faces pressure to change the law in the face of changing technologies and business models.
Disney (somewhat predictably, knowing Doctorow) plays the role of corporate antagonist in Makers. Everything goes swimmingly with the ride until pieces of Disney rides begin appearing in it; then Disney slaps the ride with an injunction and a trademark infringement lawsuit. Although the conflict presents Disney as the Big Bad Corporation out to get the Little Guy, the resolution is more nuanced and realistic in its views. Lester and Perry compromise, make a deal with a Disney executive, in return for personal creative freedom. Makers is not about revolution but evolution. Its tone may sound anti-corporation at times, but really it is only anti-dinosaur. Those corporations that adapt will survive.
I revel in the way Makers chronicles some of the challenges facing corporations and individuals alike. That is about all it is good at doing, however. The characters are flat, and the story meanders through a flow chart of plot points Doctorow feels are essential to his theme. The jacket copy is somewhat misleading; it implies that Lester's "fatkins" treatment causes his falling out with Perry. While fatkins was a contributing factor, Lester and Perry's relationship deteriorates for several reasons, the main one being time and diverging interests.
I don't blame Doctorow for the jacket copy. I do, however, expect deeper stories than what Makers delivers. Every problem the protagonists face can be conquered by a combination of message board posts, blogging, and passing it off to the legal experts. There is one obnoxious antagonist who is a straw man for anti-innovation bloggers (the kinds of sticks-in-the-mud who are unhappy whenever anyone is successful, and usually when they fail too).
To be fair, the characters do change and learn from their conflicts. Lester and Perry's relationship transforms dramatically; Susan's life changes as she follows her dream; Sammy starts off as a suit and discovers he can have his cake and eat it too. So I'm even more puzzled than I usually am, because for all the dynamics in their relationships, these characters have no chemistry.
For example, consider the scene in which Kettlewell admits to having an affair (we saw this coming). There is no drama, no repercussions. Nothing fundamentally changes after this admission. He could have said, "I am going to paint my white picket fence with a different brand of white paint" and engendered the same reader response. I just do not feel invested in these characters or their plights.
But maybe that's just Kettlewell—after all, he is a minor character. Surely we feel more inclined toward drama over Lester and Perry? Not really. Hilda, whom Lester dubs Yoko, becomes an unwilling wedge between the two DIY-ers (we saw this coming). Hilda and Perry just sort of hook up and have a one night stand, and suddenly it's love. But Hilda never really does anything Yoko-ish. Lester is the one who has created a self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing Perry away in response to a stimulus that isn't there, projecting his own desires for distance. Still, the arguments Lester and Perry have do not feel like arguments. They are dialogues from two slightly different perspectives to communicate a point.
Speaking of Perry and Hilda, let's talk about the sex scenes. Or not. Awkward. . . .
Moving on. Makers starts with a bang but ends with a whimper. The quality of the prose remains consistent—consistently mediocre—but while the story starts strong, it soon becomes streamlined and perfunctory, like it's a Disney ride and we're just sitting there, watching it happen. Despite a Big Bad Corporation coming over for dinner and spats among the protagonists about the best way to run the rides, I never felt like the stakes were very high or that anyone had much to lose.
As much as I love the premise and the execution of its ideas, Makers is much ado about nothing as far as I'm concerned. I thought Little Brother rocked hard enough to make it one of my best 10 books of 2009. With that book, Doctorow offers up a polemic, yes, but one that is truly worth the time, even if one disagrees with his argument. Makers lacks that worthwhile attribute.
And people, as a group, are not only irrational but stupid. So the economy is in for a treat.
Makers is to economics what Little Brother is to national security and civil liberties. Cory Doctorow ventures into that curious nexus of technological innovation, outdated corporate laws, dinosaur business models perpetuated by incumbent players, and strong-willed individuals who want to rock the boat. Although definitely science fiction, like Little Brother this book invokes technology that is available in the present day, focusing on the differences such technology is making rather than speculating upon the differences technology will make.
In some sense we have always lived in an information economy, because ultimately it all comes down to information in one form or another. Yet the information economy has never been more obvious in the present era, because technology has removed the barrier to the exchange of pure information. This so-called digital economy threatens incumbent business models—and the corporations that became successful through such models—because digital often turns scarcity into plenty.
Makers uses 3D printers to represent this transition to plenty. But this is more than just making things; it's about what we choose to make. The point of the DIY ("do it yourself") movement is making objects—designing them, constructing them, watching them succeed or fail or adapt to new purposes—is a rewarding effort. Lester and Perry are innovators, and that's what makes them essential to Kettlewell's New Work vision. In a society that tends toward individualism, corporations like Google are succeeding by embracing that individualism, encouraging the creativity of individuals and small groups, then reaping the ideas that result. New Work is the ultimate corporate takeover, harnessing the very bootstraps-entrepreneurial strategy so praised in the United States to generate huge new profits. It is both terrifying and amazing.
Of course, those corporations entrenched in the old paradigms will resist. This is where the law enters the story. Intellectual property law is a morass of complicated statutes, precedents, and procedures. Unfortunately, sometimes corporations will use these laws to eliminate competition. Those corporations want the law to remain as it is—or favour them even more—even as the government faces pressure to change the law in the face of changing technologies and business models.
Disney (somewhat predictably, knowing Doctorow) plays the role of corporate antagonist in Makers. Everything goes swimmingly with the ride until pieces of Disney rides begin appearing in it; then Disney slaps the ride with an injunction and a trademark infringement lawsuit. Although the conflict presents Disney as the Big Bad Corporation out to get the Little Guy, the resolution is more nuanced and realistic in its views. Lester and Perry compromise, make a deal with a Disney executive, in return for personal creative freedom. Makers is not about revolution but evolution. Its tone may sound anti-corporation at times, but really it is only anti-dinosaur. Those corporations that adapt will survive.
I revel in the way Makers chronicles some of the challenges facing corporations and individuals alike. That is about all it is good at doing, however. The characters are flat, and the story meanders through a flow chart of plot points Doctorow feels are essential to his theme. The jacket copy is somewhat misleading; it implies that Lester's "fatkins" treatment causes his falling out with Perry. While fatkins was a contributing factor, Lester and Perry's relationship deteriorates for several reasons, the main one being time and diverging interests.
I don't blame Doctorow for the jacket copy. I do, however, expect deeper stories than what Makers delivers. Every problem the protagonists face can be conquered by a combination of message board posts, blogging, and passing it off to the legal experts. There is one obnoxious antagonist who is a straw man for anti-innovation bloggers (the kinds of sticks-in-the-mud who are unhappy whenever anyone is successful, and usually when they fail too).
To be fair, the characters do change and learn from their conflicts. Lester and Perry's relationship transforms dramatically; Susan's life changes as she follows her dream; Sammy starts off as a suit and discovers he can have his cake and eat it too. So I'm even more puzzled than I usually am, because for all the dynamics in their relationships, these characters have no chemistry.
For example, consider the scene in which Kettlewell admits to having an affair (we saw this coming). There is no drama, no repercussions. Nothing fundamentally changes after this admission. He could have said, "I am going to paint my white picket fence with a different brand of white paint" and engendered the same reader response. I just do not feel invested in these characters or their plights.
But maybe that's just Kettlewell—after all, he is a minor character. Surely we feel more inclined toward drama over Lester and Perry? Not really. Hilda, whom Lester dubs Yoko, becomes an unwilling wedge between the two DIY-ers (we saw this coming). Hilda and Perry just sort of hook up and have a one night stand, and suddenly it's love. But Hilda never really does anything Yoko-ish. Lester is the one who has created a self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing Perry away in response to a stimulus that isn't there, projecting his own desires for distance. Still, the arguments Lester and Perry have do not feel like arguments. They are dialogues from two slightly different perspectives to communicate a point.
Speaking of Perry and Hilda, let's talk about the sex scenes. Or not. Awkward. . . .
Moving on. Makers starts with a bang but ends with a whimper. The quality of the prose remains consistent—consistently mediocre—but while the story starts strong, it soon becomes streamlined and perfunctory, like it's a Disney ride and we're just sitting there, watching it happen. Despite a Big Bad Corporation coming over for dinner and spats among the protagonists about the best way to run the rides, I never felt like the stakes were very high or that anyone had much to lose.
As much as I love the premise and the execution of its ideas, Makers is much ado about nothing as far as I'm concerned. I thought Little Brother rocked hard enough to make it one of my best 10 books of 2009. With that book, Doctorow offers up a polemic, yes, but one that is truly worth the time, even if one disagrees with his argument. Makers lacks that worthwhile attribute.
A really good book! Not fast moving, but still a fascinating look at what lies in store for our disposable world.
While authors tend not to have a lot of control and say over the images and colors that will grace their books, the publisher must put a lot of work into deciding what the cover of a particular book should be. The cover for Makers does a great job of hinting and implying at the events taking place within its pages: a stacked wall of old, abandoned keyboards, with hanging connector cords; occasional mouses squeezed in here and there, cables also dangling. The keyboards and mouses reveal the subject matter of technological devices that soon become outdated and almost forgotten, as a newer, flashier item replaces it, while technology updates and improves. The key term is obsolete.
It is our near future, between ten and thirty years down the line, as events progress in the book. Percy Gibbons and Lester Banks are makers: they like to make something out of nothing. Specifically they’re interested in inventing new and useful pieces of technology using defunct and obsolete parts, thereby not needing any new, hard to get materials. They soon become employees of a new company – Kodacell (formerly Kodak and Duracell) – as they begin coming up with great and crazy new inventions with a steady paycheck. Journalist Suzanne Church begins to cover their work for the publication she works for, and then starts her own blog covering the rise of Kodacell in popularity and insight with its products, and soon becomes a celebrity in her own right.
But all things must come to an end, like the end of the Dot Com revolution. Time passes, things change, while Gibbons and Banks move onto their next project: an automated theme park of robots that create displays and showcases on the history of technology and its change over time. Viewers, in their own little car, get to choose whether they like a particular display or not, thereby making the robots alter, reconfigure and improve it overnight for the viewing customer. It is a constantly changing and self-replicating enterprise; much better than Disney World which is quite different from today’s park.
Makers is not a chronological book with beginning, middle, and end, but more of a long snapshot into a world that could very well become our own. Doctorow is asking many questions and making many comments on society and where it might be going, addressing subjects like the giants of Wal-Mart and Disney World, as well as the obesity problem with a new and terrifying procedure. Makers works on many levels, not just analyzing technology, but from a business standpoint, as well as a human one where many lives can be affected. It is a novel with a story that shouldn’t be taken as a steadfast message of “this is our future,” but more “this is something that could happen,” and what are your thoughts on it? Or perhaps even: “What are you going to do about it?”
For more book reviews and exclusive author interviews, go to BookBanter.
It is our near future, between ten and thirty years down the line, as events progress in the book. Percy Gibbons and Lester Banks are makers: they like to make something out of nothing. Specifically they’re interested in inventing new and useful pieces of technology using defunct and obsolete parts, thereby not needing any new, hard to get materials. They soon become employees of a new company – Kodacell (formerly Kodak and Duracell) – as they begin coming up with great and crazy new inventions with a steady paycheck. Journalist Suzanne Church begins to cover their work for the publication she works for, and then starts her own blog covering the rise of Kodacell in popularity and insight with its products, and soon becomes a celebrity in her own right.
But all things must come to an end, like the end of the Dot Com revolution. Time passes, things change, while Gibbons and Banks move onto their next project: an automated theme park of robots that create displays and showcases on the history of technology and its change over time. Viewers, in their own little car, get to choose whether they like a particular display or not, thereby making the robots alter, reconfigure and improve it overnight for the viewing customer. It is a constantly changing and self-replicating enterprise; much better than Disney World which is quite different from today’s park.
Makers is not a chronological book with beginning, middle, and end, but more of a long snapshot into a world that could very well become our own. Doctorow is asking many questions and making many comments on society and where it might be going, addressing subjects like the giants of Wal-Mart and Disney World, as well as the obesity problem with a new and terrifying procedure. Makers works on many levels, not just analyzing technology, but from a business standpoint, as well as a human one where many lives can be affected. It is a novel with a story that shouldn’t be taken as a steadfast message of “this is our future,” but more “this is something that could happen,” and what are your thoughts on it? Or perhaps even: “What are you going to do about it?”
For more book reviews and exclusive author interviews, go to BookBanter.
Reading Makers is some bizarre inversion of Pride and Prejudice where instead of examining courtship rituals and suitability for marriage, the writer is obsessed with startups and business plans.
Reading this book was like being in a coffee shop (Coffee Bar, specifically) next to a coked up newly minted MBA trying to sell his virtualized social media company to an investor over the phone based purely on the amount of buzzwords he could cram into a sentence. Except for the sex scenes. Oh god. The TSA prostate exam was more realistic.
I started skipping through pages, picking out bits of dialog where they weren't talking about business ideas or propping up each others' egos by telling them how great they were really. Then I started skipping pages. Then finally I realized that, 300 pages in, I realized that the person I most liked in the novel was the rat-faced reporter who was trying to poke holes in their glorious bubble driven reality.
I put the book down and walked away.
Reading this book was like being in a coffee shop (Coffee Bar, specifically) next to a coked up newly minted MBA trying to sell his virtualized social media company to an investor over the phone based purely on the amount of buzzwords he could cram into a sentence. Except for the sex scenes. Oh god. The TSA prostate exam was more realistic.
I started skipping through pages, picking out bits of dialog where they weren't talking about business ideas or propping up each others' egos by telling them how great they were really. Then I started skipping pages. Then finally I realized that, 300 pages in, I realized that the person I most liked in the novel was the rat-faced reporter who was trying to poke holes in their glorious bubble driven reality.
I put the book down and walked away.
I don't think that a novel is the best medium for this set of ideas/portion of Cory Doctorow's brain. But my personal preference is for characters who are not just vehicles for treatises on technology, etc. Maybe other people will connect with it because they like the opposite, idek.
A little heavy, but worth reading purely for Doctorow's depiction of the joy (and pain) of creating. Doctorow really Gets It, and lives the model, and my admiration for him continues to grow.