Every time Apple introduces a new model of iPad, that old, nasty, stupid, pointless debate rears its ugly head. I’m referring of course to the Can this iPad replace a traditional computer? debate. Also known as Can the iPad become your primary, or even sole computer? Also known as Can the iPad be used for Serious Work?

The constant in this debate is the attitude of the two main user groups involved, as each seems to hold this position: My way is the right way, and you’re a fool for thinking otherwise.

Now, my decades-old habits, my work-related needs, but also my personal preferences put me in the Mac OS / traditional computer group. The way I organise my workspace, the way I multitask, my need for lots of screen real estate, make Mac OS the ideal environment to work in. But I’ve been using iOS and iOS devices for a long time as well. I can appreciate that some people have managed to make them their primary platform and device. I know that Serious Work can be carried out on an iPad. It really, ultimately depends on what you do for a living. 

The point that some iPad die-hard fans seem to miss is that it’s not a matter of people not wanting to adapt to an iOS-based workflow; it’s not a matter of people lacking mental agility to ditch their computers and switch to iPads for work. It’s that their work imposes different solutions, in the form of dedicated software, company-issued computers, multitasking requirements (e.g. ability to monitor more than three applications simultaneously on a bigger screen), etc. 

The point that some traditional computer fans seem to miss is that there are people whose work largely depends on one type of application, and when this type of application is efficiently, effectually ported to iOS and tailored for use on an iPad, a lot of these people will be able and will prefer to work on an iPad, even if some adjustments are required in the process.

But the purpose of this piece isn’t to solve this debate, or to side with either of the parts involved. I just wanted to offer a few observations on this trend towards iPad computing. These past few years I’ve been noticing how a fair amount of tech nerds have made their mission to get rid of desktop or laptop computers and become iPad-only users, and I’ve wondered why. Why are they willing to go back and re-learn to do the same things they used to do on a Mac or PC, on an operating system that is certainly fresher than Mac OS or Windows, but still clearly lacks in versatility (at least in certain areas)?

According to some of them, they prefer iOS on an iPad because it’s “simpler”, and “more fun”. According to others, Mac OS or Windows “never clicked” with them, and iOS has turned out to be a more favourable environment for the way they do things. According to others again, they prefer Multi-touch as input method over mouse or trackpad. There are other reasons, some even more superficial (“I love the design æsthetics of iOS and iOS apps more than the one of Mac/Windows apps”), but let’s stop here for now.

I think there’s another fundamental reason at play, and it’s a stronger driving force than any of the reasons listed above. It has to do with a portability and lightness fever that seems to have affected a lot of people in recent times. 

I don’t know if it all started in 2008 with the first MacBook Air, or slightly earlier with the wave of netbooks, but the obsession with ‘Thin & Light’ has definitely been contagious and has shaped many computing trends of these past ten years or so. The thrill of being able to do most things on a more compact device has been potent; to the point, I think, that which system powers the device is actually a secondary factor. 

Go to any computer store and look at the offerings. The biggest laptop computer size is 15-inch. 17-inch machines are few and they’re all targeted to ‘gamers’ who, in the consumer landscape, appear to be the only category of users putting sheer performance before size or weight. The rest essentially consists of 12/13-inch laptops or even smaller 2‑in‑1 convertible devices.

It seems as if the main goal for the computing environment of the future is that it has to happen on the thinnest, lightest surface possible. The Thin & Light trend is so intoxicating that some people (and I find this hilarious) consider any computer or device weighing more than one kilogram to be heavy. When some learn that I sometimes still do some work on a 17-inch PowerBook G4 — which weighs more than three kilograms — they tell me I’m crazy to carry around that much weight and bulk. 

It doesn’t matter that iOS on an iPad still has its share of shortcomings and convoluted workflows. It’s the thrill of operating a thin slab with just your fingers (and a pencil) what makes the whole experience. It’s the feeling of great convenience. It’s the exhilarating sensation of I can do anything, anywhere, with this paper notebook-sized device.

From a rational standpoint, an iPad may not be the most convenient solution for certain tasks, or even the most practical. But a traditional computer can’t beat that thrill, that feeling of unbearable lightness, when you just grab the iPad from your desktop, put it in your slim messenger bag, and dash out. “I’ll keep checking that thing on the taxi”, “I’ll just shoot her an email while having a cappuccino at the coffee shop near the train station”. Your computing environment on a minimal surface. That is indeed a stronger force than admitting to yourself that certain workflows are still awkward after years of iOS development; that certain gestures are far from well-designed or usability-friendly; that certain features are still hidden behind a curtain of poor discoverability; that a traditional computer still provides a more efficient desktop management and spatial arrangement; that a lightweight, 13-inch laptop with a good keyboard still provides a comparable degree of portability and lightness, with all the advantages of a mature OS.

But the choice that favours the minimal surface with minimal weight is mostly irrational. (And please, don’t read any judgement behind my words. A lot of human choices are based on feelings, not rationality. It’s what makes us unique.) It’s the liberating feeling of striving for a more and more impalpable computing experience. It seems that today what’s more important for both hardware and software is that they ‘get out of the way’. And I can understand this, at least in part. But — and perhaps it’s because I belong to a generation that had time to experience life before the pervasiveness of today’s Internet — I personally still much prefer to perceive computing as a visible, tangible experience; a separate activity, a place I ‘enter’ to work or have fun, but something I can get out of when I need and when I want. 

Because I can’t help thinking that this ‘getting out of the way’ characteristic of the computing experience of the fabled post-PC era doesn’t translate to something that truly gets out of the way, but to something that you bring with you everywhere, because it’s so small, thin, lightweight, and feels so powerful and convenient. You don’t see and hold Alice’s looking glass anymore — you enter it.