Dear Reader,

So much of the big news these days is all about AI. AI advances, AI politics, AI corporate maneuvering, AI power usage … I was feeling a bit downcast about the prospect of writing yet another AI column when, in fact, there isn't that much I can say in one page that isn't either speculation or well-trodden platitudes. Then I noticed a news item that swung the other way, into the deep, retro past: Picture the oldest PC-style home computer you can remember, maybe the first computer your father brought home?

The BBC website recently posted an article on contemporary uses for really ancient Windows computer systems [1], and I'm not just talking about people logging onto a home PC to write a letter. I mean actual production systems out in the real world. I've always had a low-tech, high-tech streak. I never liked it that I was supposed to throw out my computer and buy a new one because some hardware company (or software company) wanted to chalk up another sale. One of the things that attracted me to Linux was the idea that I wouldn't have to bow down to corporate timelines of planned obsolescence. But seriously, some of the examples in the article are a little mind blowing.

Commuter trains in Germany that run on Windows 3.11 … ATMs with Windows XP … Software for veterans hospitals that still runs on Windows NT. According to the article, the computer that starts the automatic train control system for the Muni Metro light rail system in San Francisco runs MS-DOS, and the system won't boot in the morning unless someone sticks a floppy disk into the floppy drive.

As the expression goes, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." These systems are all doing what they were designed to do, so no one seems to mind that they exist in a weird time warp. One of the takeaways from all this is just the reminder of how much time and expense it takes to write complex infrastructure-managing software systems – and how risky it is to change something that is already functional. People on the subway train aren't going to say, "Wow, this subway is a much better experience since they upgraded their software." But if you start the upgrade and nothing works for a couple months while you smooth out the kinks, you'll hear about it from just about everybody. Also, it is worth noting, deferred maintenance is a common strategy for governments (and even many companies) in difficult budget years. "It worked last year; let's wait another year and fix it then?" Then you look up and 30 years have passed.

Many of these systems run legacy software because they are tied to legacy hardware. If you're not ready to buy a new machine yet, and the old machine is tied to old software, you're stuck with making the old software work. I admire that, in a way, although I would like to believe someone sat down and thought through all the security implications, and I'm less than confident that that has actually happened. A closed system, with no direct Internet access for a cybercriminal to use for a break-in, is clearly safer than a system wired up to the Internet, but seriously, how secure is that room where you store the mystical 386 PC that is the brains of your operation?

Joe Casad, Editor in Chief