Fluff piece on the Model M...
25 Years of the Model M
The IBM Model M keyboard is a time traveler. You might be surprised
to see one on your friend's desk, as if it might be foreshadowing by
only a few minutes the arrival of a Sarah Connor-hungry Arnold
Schwartzenegger. Like the Terminator, the existence of a Model M
today is an anachronism. In the recent past, the world used computer
parts made by people in different places instead of receiving the
entire lot on the slow boat from China. It still mattered more what a
computer did than what it looked like. Manufacturers presumed you
cared that their products last longer than a year. Trying to mend
computer hardware instead of rebuying it wasn't a quaint and hilarious
waste of time. It is from such a time that the Model M keyboard
travels.
The very idea that a piece of computer hardware that began its tour of
duty in the mid-1980s is still useful today seems improbable. It is
even more improbable that the surviving hardware would have *moving
parts*. But it is, and it does. You can plug a Model M from 1987
into just about any old computer with a PS/2 port, and it will almost
certainly work. Don't worry, you'll already know how to use it;
keyboards haven't changed very much since 1987. Recently, the
availability of a PS/2 port on a computer is becoming more and more
rare. Keyboards with USB interfaces (aka "Human Input Devices", ugh)
are replacing them very quickly. But, at least for now, USB-to-PS/2
adapters are commonplace, cheap, and effective. And, as we'll see,
one can even buy a Model M with a USB interface instead of a PS/2 one
these days too. More on that a little later though.
The Model M keyboard is a lot of fun to use because it makes an
astonishing racket while you're using it. Each keystroke of a Model M
is famously loud, to the chagrin of spouses and coworkers alike. But
where does this unholy racket come from? Think about holding a spring
between your thumb and forefinger at an oblique angle and pushing them
together against the resistance of the spring. At some point that
spring is going to buckle, and when it does, your fingers are probably
going to come together rather quickly (and the spring will probably go
flying across the room). Much like this, when a Model M key begins to
be pressed, a little spring inside the switch assembly is tensed. The
spring's head is positioned at a slight angle relative to the downward
force of the keypress and the angle of the spring, which causes the
edge of the spring to move slightly horizontally while the spring is
also being compressed downwards as the key is pressed. As a result,
about halfway through the keypress, the spring "buckles" sharply, and
the side of the spring slaps against the side of the keytop barrel
which surrounds it, making the famous clicking noise. The spring
doesn't come flying out, because it's held firmly in place at its
bottom end. The angle of the spring's depression causes the bottom of
the spring to push a tiny hammer down which actuates a membrane inside
the keyboard chassis at the same time the spring buckles, causing the
keystroke to be registered. This is the "buckling spring" design, and
it was patented in 1978 by IBM. The spring provides resistance; the
buckling of the spring provides tactile and audio confirmation that
the key has been pressed, as well as actuating the keypress event
itself. No other keyboard uses this technology, because it's
relatively expensive to produce compared with cheaper non-mechanical
rubber dome keyboards; but it was also patented and that patent is
still active today.
The astonishing racket made by a Model M isn't just fun; it's also
healthy. The keyboard's users do not need to actually push a key all
the way to the bottom in order to know that a keystroke has been
registered. Instead, typists can more or less let their fingers
"float" on the keytops, pushing rather gently here and there. When
they feel a click, they can know that a keystroke has been registered
and that depressing the accompanying key any further isn't required.
Because the user doesn't need to bottom out the keypress in order to
to be sure that a keystroke was registered, less net force and motion
is required during typing, reducing the potential for RSI. If you use
the keyboard properly, you'll never need to press any of the keys hard
enough to have one hit bottom. It's fine if you do; mashing each of
them silly will still work (and it's fun, the mashing makes it even
louder). But you needn't do it.
Model M keyboards are ubiquitious today owing to their long production
cycle and their popularity: every IBM PS/2 computer sold shipped along
with one in the box. The very first Model M is rumored to have been
produced in 1985, preceding the PS/2 by a couple of years. The
pre-PS/2 Model Ms were sold for various industrial uses, as well as
the keyboard for, in its later waning years, IBM's PC AT. I mentioned
earlier that when you plug a Model M into a new computer, you'll
already know how to use it. This is because most the layout of all of
today's PC computer keyboards was effectively *based* on the Model M.
How do I know that? The IBM Model M is not the first IBM PC keyboard.
That prize goes to the IBM Model F, which shipped along with the first
IBM PC. We most certainly do not copy the layout of the Model F
today; it's very different. But we do copy the Model M layout. IBM
PC clone makers weren't (and still aren't) very innovative. They did
whatever IBM did. And IBM stopped on the Model M. There are
exceptions, and keyboards -- even the Model M -- have grown a couple
of keys over time (a pair of "Windows" keys) but compare the layout of
a 1986 Model M to any $7.00 yum cha keyboard of today and you will see
very clearly that cheap keyboard's ancestry involves the Model M. We
take this layout for granted today; when the Model M was put into
production, there was no similar "standard" layout.
The great majority of Model Ms produced which still exist corporeally
(those which have avoided a bonfire) still function properly. The
Model M is not built like other keyboards. It's *beefy*. It weighs
more than two thin laptops glued together, and it's bulkier than the
same. It's rumored that you can use one to bludgeon a man to death,
then after wiping off his blood, resume working. I haven't tested
that theory, but I can attest that the Model M can take a beating. I
have at least one Model M keyboard built in 1987 that works well
today, and that looks more or less new to me (I am indeed typing this
very screed on it). I have bought several Model Ms of the late 80s
and early 90s vintage from EBay, each which looked like it had been
stored in a wrapping of cigarette butts and Cheetos after a quick dip
in quicksand. After a good cleaning, they've all looked more or less
brand new and have each worked perfectly.
But wait, there's more. The Model M isn't just loud, beefy, and
durable. It's also completely fashion-deaf. In its 25 year history,
it has come in only three fabulous decorator colors: beige, industrial
grey, and black. Many postmodernists would think it ugly even if you
could buy it in a tangerine or blueberry variant. But don't worry,
it's OK to laugh. The Model M won't get its feelings hurt. It
doesn't give a good goddamn about what you and the other art majors
think about it. It has assumed a role with only two purposes: to make
typing suck less, and to last forever. All other considerations are
secondary or tertiary. Past the first design meeting in 1984 where it
was greenlighted, very little consideration has been put into, say,
its logo styling and positioning or coloring, or case-shaping.
The omission of fashion concerns over its production lifetime is one
of its most important features. The Model M keyboard has simply not
*evolved*. Model M keyboards have been made for more than 25 years
using almost the *exact same design*, guts, casing and all. How do I
know this, you ask? I (shamefully) currently own 11 Model M
keyboards. Every Model M produced has a "birth certificate" on its
bottom casing. It gives the day, month, and year it was produced
(incidentally, making them extremely collectible). The earliest Model
M in my collection was produced in August 1986. The latest was
produced in April of 1997. With a few exceptions, the mechanical
parts of all of these keyboards are largely interchangeable. I can
take the mechanical internals of any early-year Model M and place them
in the casing of almost any later-year Model M (and vice versa) and
put the casing back together; the resulting system will still work.
They are the same keyboard. We're not talking about the same keyboard
*name* or *family* or *brand*, we're talking about the same keyboard
*design and production* for eleven years, confirmed. I can only
assume that the commonality of design spans the entire 25-year
lifetime. A dedication to fashion-avoidance and a steadfast
resistance to evolution makes them uncommonly easy to find parts for
and repair.
If 25 years of staying power doesn't impress you, this should: the
story hasn't ended. New model Ms are *still being produced today* in
Lexington, Kentucky, United States by a company named Unicomp. I
don't mean that Unicomp just bought the Model M copyrights (which they
did) and rights to use the buckling spring design (which they did) and
began innovating with new designs only marginally related to the older
Model M (which they did not), attempting only to capitalize on brand
recognition (of which there is little, I fear). I mean that they
bought the *factory*, tool and die. They crank the same exact
keyboards out that were being cranked out in 1986 today with two minor
exceptions: you can now buy a keyboard with Windows keys and you can
buy a Model M with a native USB interface. Note that even the
addition of Windows keys or the new interface doesn't mean very much:
the Unicomp spring assemblies still fit in the a Model M case from
1986, and vice versa. Unicomp's new keyboard's arent the cheapest:
they start at $69 for a basic bucking spring model. But, then again,
if you enjoy using a keyboard, and it will last you for 25 years,
almost any price is a huge bargain as far as I can tell. Would it
really matter if you paid even $500 for it given that sense of time
scale?
Computers and other consumer electronics are today's ultimate
disposable good. Fifteen years ago that I found it hard to buy the
same computer cases from month to month when I would build PCs. I can
only imagine what that's like today. But if you think about it, a
keyboard that has a twenty-five year lifecycle is as obvious as the
sun. Until we get ubiquitous voice recognition, we're all going to
need some form of easy input to a computer: a keyboard is about as
good as it gets as an input device for now. Why *shouldn't* a
keyboard have a lifetime longer than a dog's? Certainly, you only
need as many keyboards as you have computers (except when you buy 11
of them for no apparent reason... ahem) and the Latin alphabet
certainly isn't going to change in the timescales we're talking about.
In summary, I ask you, good sir: what useful piece of computer
hardware could you buy off the shelf in both 1985 and today? I
thought so. Here's to the Model M after 25 years.
