Minitel was a pay service; almost everything cost. The big surprise on the Web was that ads alone would pay for so much and that bandwidth would become so cheap.
Minitel was a pay service; almost everything cost. The big surprise on the Web was that ads alone would pay for so much and that bandwidth would become so cheap.
Another huge surprise was that people would create so much content (including really good content) for free. Can you imagine telling someone 15 years ago that the Web would have a free repository of all human knowledge, in hundreds of languages, thousands of times bigger than Encyclopedia Britannica, that was created by random people and experts around the world almost entirely without payment.
Of course I'm talking about Wikipedia above, but that's just one of thousands of outstanding Web resources that people created for free.
I can just imagine the people's reactions 15 years ago: Why would anyone do that for free? Wouldn't the government shut it down? Who would pay to run the servers? Anything anyone would write for free would be garbage. You might get a few random people to write, but no subject-matter expert is going to waste their time.
This wasn't too much of a leap for me. Microsoft Encarta shifted its information from CDs to the internet. And when you think about the whole premise of the internet, it was a tool for researches to share information. Remember all the university hosted sites packed with information? Now give all these people an easier place to publish their information while also reaching a wider audience.
One of my favorite pages from this era is probably this tide chart by someone at University of Nevada, Reno:
http://wolfweb.unr.edu/homepage/edc/tides/2016/sfgg_fr16.htm...
And Stanford CS guys publishing their outdoor excursions:
Wikipedia is far, far short of the total of 'all human knowledge'. It's probably a good primer for the type of information that consitutes such knowledge but it's barely skin-deep.
Even the British Library, for all its faults, holds magnitudes more information; it adds three million items every year, which is half as many as Wikipedia has total articles.
I think you would need to clarify to the person that there are just as many volunteer editors as there are volunteer writers. And then, perhaps, take them through a thought-experiment where fifty people are, in parallel, handed a copy of something and asked to mark it up for spelling and grammar errors. Even if they're all amateurs, the union of their annotations is likely to asymptotically approach (or even exceed) the results of a professional editor. Copyediting is actually uniquely suited for this sort of thing; it's, as they say, an embarrassingly parallel problem.
(Structural and content editing not-so-much, and Wikipedia indeed has deficits in those areas.)
Once I finally got my hands on the serial cable needed to connect the family's Minitel to my first computer, an Amstrad CPC6128, I was in business... As if by magic, a new game had teleported through the telephone network, materializing on a previously blank floppy disk. My 9-year old mind was well and truly blown! This was 1989 and I had just downloaded a game.
Never mind that the transfer took an eternity, resulting in a hefty charge to my parents' phone bill. Never mind that I had very little interest in the game itself -- it was only Bubble Bobble, after all. No, the downloading process is what fascinated me. A whole new world of possibilities had just opened up.
But a year later I was crestfallen: we had moved to the United States and there was no Minitel. Perhaps fortuitously, there were no Amstrad computers either. The complete lack of Amstrad software stateside was solid ground for requesting a new computer. Now armed with a brand new 286 PC and a 2400 baud modem, the Minitel was soon forgotten as I discovered the joys of local BBSes, inevitably ending up running a rather popular one of my own.
America may not have had the Minitel, but it more than made up for it with a thriving BBS scene, fostered by those gloriously free local phone calls.
Other areas, like Atlanta, had unlimited calling over a wide area, while rural areas often only offered toll-free calling within town, or perhaps to one or two nearby towns.
I miss the local BBS scene of that era, but I don't miss the hassle of analog modems, long-distance charges, and (by today's standards) laughably slow speeds. Even a low-end smartphone is light-years ahead of 1980s tech.
Amazingly, FidoNet is still a thing, though many of its systems are now on the internet instead of analog modems. It might come in handy again if the internet apocalypse happens.
There was a failed attempt by a Silicon Valley company, "101 Online", to deploy Minitel terminals in the US. The terminals were available in electronics surplus stores for years.
But I'm afraid that even in the DC metro area, among French embassy personnel no less, few people knew about such a thing. We certainly didn't. Most French folks who missed the Minitel just ended up subscribing to one of the major online services of the time, namely CompuServe and Prodigy.
Besides, without the benefit of those giant billboards featuring topless young ladies[1] the Minitel never stood a chance in the US.
[1] Was it 3615 ULLA? ;)
People might not realise just how eye-wateringly expensive these services were.
In 1988 Compuserve charged $11 per hour. (Very roughly, that's $22 today).
I'm not sure what Prodigy charged, but it's amazing how much people used to spend on very slow online connectivity.
I read that Germany had something similar called BTX from Bundespost, but that died a few years earlier. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bildschirmtext
As it was a pay as you go, it was a cash machine for FT/orange (and marginally for Teleroute) we had to keep the minitel infrastructure alive and in sync with the website and rest apis. Mixing state of the art webservices and decade old infrastructure was a nice challenge.
The thing we dread the most: having to change graphical elements in videotex format.
I used to have a minitel in my collection of oddball terminals when I worked for BT