Several months ago I brought a new computer that came with a Vista operating system. Since then I have discovered that Vista’s development apparently is the result of linear more-is-better thinking. What that means is that, if the program didn’t address a particular user need to start with, the chances of any upgrades or programs coming from that same manufacturer doing so are about nil. It hit me that a lot of programs related to companion animal health and behavior fall into that same category.
Technologically, Vista is not designed for those of us stuck with dial-up connections until some act of God or government makes it worthwhile for profit-motivated companies to supply service to those who live in electronic dead zones or out in the boonies. That would be fine if they just put a black box on all their products and promotional material that said, WARNING: NOT FOR USE WITH DIAL-UP CONNECTIONS. Then people like me with such connections wouldn’t waste time and money on such programs in the first place. We’d use an old program that we knew would work, or search for and even pay more for a new one that actually did. End of story.
But that’s not how the Vista Effect works. The Vista program is marketed as modem-compatible and only after you have it up and running do you discover that it really isn’t. On its best days, using Vista while on-line is like trying to get a snappy arthritic old dog to move on a cold rainy day and hoping you won’t get bitten in the process. It’s much slower that its predecessor, Windows XP, and much less predictable. And because I have much (!) less patience with computer programs that are molasses slow or crash completely than I do with edgy arthritic old dogs, it’s frustrating. Nor do I hold out any hope for any operating system that’s supposed to correct all the problems in Vista to correct this one. Its creators were indifferent to the needs of those with dial-up connections from the get-go. If some change that might benefit us does occur, it’s more likely to be by accident than by design.
The Vista Effect in animal health and behavioral programs functions the same way. Like computer operating systems, there are medical and behavioral ones that have been around for years. In their rush to remain on what they define as the cutting edge of their respective fields, these programs are periodically upgraded with the addition of new whistles and bells of one sort or another. At the same time, less sexy or more time-consuming elements in the old programs are given less weight and/or deleted entirely.
Within animal healthcare, getting a comprehensive history and doing a thorough physical examination is going or has gone the way of my dial-up connection. The question “What can I learn from listening to this owner and examining this animal?” has been replaced by, “What tests should I run to tell me what the problem is?” Each new technological tool the veterinarian puts in his or her tool kit and each new upgrade thereof possesses the potential to move that clinician further away from an intimate connection with owner and animal.
For those owners as equally enamored of technology, the lack of something as low-tech as a history or physical examination isn’t a loss. In fact, they may see it as a great improvement as well as a time-saver. But although I have nothing against technology whatsoever (aside from my lack of either a high-speed connection or software that’s compatible with my dial-up one), my knowledge of the inextricably entwined effects of animal health and the bond make me mourn this loss.
In the world of behavior, we see pretty much the same thing. The fundamental theme of behaviorism that was introduced in the 1950s in this country is now deeply entrenched in virtually all of the training methods popular at this time. The fact that this is based on a mechanistic view that denies animals thought and emotion as well as the effect of the human-animal relationship on their behavior is comparable to the demise of the history and physical examination in medicine. Only to me it’s worse because a good history is crucial for the proper diagnosis and treatment of behavioral problems, too.
As in veterinary medicine, the focus of training is on adding more gadgets and steps to the process which is then distinguished by giving it some catchy name or acronym. Other times, new definitions are given to established terminology to distinguish the programs from all the others. More often than not, though, this results in confusion as these different approaches melt into one big more-of-the-same blur.
Simultaneously, the owner either is positioned as an equally mechanistic being who simply dispenses rewards or punishment in a timely fashion as directed, or as a person capable of thought and emotion who opts to deny his/her animal those same qualities for some reason, or a person who sees the animal capable of both thought and emotion but chooses to use an approach that denies the animal both. Based on my knowledge of the physiological and behavioral effects of the bond, I admit that I find all three of these choices difficult to comprehend.
Now all of this would be depressing had I not had delightful conversations with two people in Dell support with whom I spoke relative to the Vista Effect. Neither could resolve my problem and both admitted that I was, to use my most charitable nontechnical term, up the creek without a paddle. If I downgraded to Windows XP, aside from that being a horrendous job, it would void my warranty because it’s not the program the computer came with. If I keep the system as it is, I must put up with online speeds that are slower than what I experienced with my old computer. Consequently, the net (if you’ll pardon the pun) result for me is comparable to trading in an old car that could go 100MPH for a sleek new one that has the potential to go 200 MPH, but can only go 50 MPH here because it was designed only to run on straight, smooth roads somewhere where it’s always sunny.
The Dell techs and I agreed that there wasn’t anything that was going to improve my computer or its programs’ operation until that missing piece of the equation—the proper connection—was restored. Because current operating systems and programs are too deeply entrenched in high-speed thinking, making them dial-up-compatible would amount to reverse mutation. It might happen, but it’s extremely unlikely. But what was gratifying to me was to discover that, once I explained where I was coming from and even though the junior tech had probably never seen, let alone used a dial-up connection, they both understood the problem immediately and the limitations of the system. Maybe they couldn’t make things better for me, but I did suggest that they change their ordering system so that any order for a new system that requests Vista and a modem automatically brings up information regarding the combination’s potential to greatly reduce the speed and efficiency of the system.
So it is with my work teaching and writing about the interaction of companion animal health, behavior and the relationship, and the need to get and understand the basics before getting blinded by ever more sophisticated processes and technology. The sheer prevalence of the current systems is used as proof of their efficacy and yet I can’t help recalling the old cigarette ad that assured the public that “Nine out of ten doctors can’t be wrong.” Yeah, maybe. But maybe not.
Still, I’m not going to give up hope that we may one day return to a truly integrated view that takes into account the whole animal in the whole physical and mental environment in which that animal lives. And I’m not going to give up because I’m some distaff old Don Quixote with nothing better to do than sit on my ass tilting at medical and behavioral windmills. I won’t give up because of those clients and animal care professionals I’ve met and worked with who, once they understand the limitations and even the backwardness of the current approaches, easily grasp the need for change.
Several months ago I brought a new computer that came with a Vista operating system. Since then I have discovered that Vista’s development apparently is the result of linear more-is-better thinking. What that means is that, if the program didn’t address a particular user need to start with, the chances of any upgrades or programs coming from that same manufacturer doing so are about nil. It hit me that a lot of programs related to companion animal health and behavior fall into that same category.
Technologically, Vista is not designed for those of us stuck with dial-up connections until some act of God or government makes it worthwhile for profit-motivated companies to supply service to those who live in electronic dead zones or out in the boonies. That would be fine if they just put a black box on all their products and promotional material that said, WARNING: NOT FOR USE WITH DIAL-UP CONNECTIONS. Then people like me with such connections wouldn’t waste time and money on such programs in the first place. We’d use an old program that we knew would work, or search for and even pay more for a new one that actually did. End of story.
But that’s not how the Vista Effect works. The Vista program is marketed as modem-compatible and only after you have it up and running do you discover that it really isn’t. On its best days, using Vista while on-line is like trying to get a snappy arthritic old dog to move on a cold rainy day and hoping you won’t get bitten in the process. It’s much slower that its predecessor, Windows XP, and much less predictable. And because I have much (!) less patience with computer programs that are molasses slow or crash completely than I do with edgy arthritic old dogs, it’s frustrating. Nor do I hold out any hope for any operating system that’s supposed to correct all the problems in Vista to correct this one. Its creators were indifferent to the needs of those with dial-up connections from the get-go. If some change that might benefit us does occur, it’s more likely to be by accident than by design.
The Vista Effect in animal health and behavioral programs functions the same way. Like computer operating systems, there are medical and behavioral ones that have been around for years. In their rush to remain on what they define as the cutting edge of their respective fields, these programs are periodically upgraded with the addition of new whistles and bells of one sort or another. At the same time, less sexy or more time-consuming elements in the old programs are given less weight and/or deleted entirely.
Within animal healthcare, getting a comprehensive history and doing a thorough physical examination is going or has gone the way of my dial-up connection. The question “What can I learn from listening to this owner and examining this animal?” has been replaced by, “What tests should I run to tell me what the problem is?” Each new technological tool the veterinarian puts in his or her tool kit and each new upgrade thereof possesses the potential to move that clinician further away from an intimate connection with owner and animal.
For those owners as equally enamored of technology, the lack of something as low-tech as a history or physical examination isn’t a loss. In fact, they may see it as a great improvement as well as a time-saver. But although I have nothing against technology whatsoever (aside from my lack of either a high-speed connection or software that’s compatible with my dial-up one), my knowledge of the inextricably entwined effects of animal health and the bond make me mourn this loss.
In the world of behavior, we see pretty much the same thing. The fundamental theme of behaviorism that was introduced in the 1950s in this country is now deeply entrenched in virtually all of the training methods popular at this time. The fact that this is based on a mechanistic view that denies animals thought and emotion as well as the effect of the human-animal relationship on their behavior is comparable to the demise of the history and physical examination in medicine. Only to me it’s worse because a good history is crucial for the proper diagnosis and treatment of behavioral problems, too.
As in veterinary medicine, the focus of training is on adding more gadgets and steps to the process which is then distinguished by giving it some catchy name or acronym. Other times, new definitions are given to established terminology to distinguish the programs from all the others. More often than not, though, this results in confusion as these different approaches melt into one big more-of-the-same blur.
Simultaneously, the owner either is positioned as an equally mechanistic being who simply dispenses rewards or punishment in a timely fashion as directed, or as a person capable of thought and emotion who opts to deny his/her animal those same qualities for some reason, or a person who sees the animal capable of both thought and emotion but chooses to use an approach that denies the animal both. Based on my knowledge of the physiological and behavioral effects of the bond, I admit that I find all three of these choices difficult to comprehend.
Now all of this would be depressing had I not had delightful conversations with two people in Dell support with whom I spoke relative to the Vista Effect. Neither could resolve my problem and both admitted that I was, to use my most charitable nontechnical term, up the creek without a paddle. If I downgraded to Windows XP, aside from that being a horrendous job, it would void my warranty because it’s not the program the computer came with. If I keep the system as it is, I must put up with online speeds that are slower than what I experienced with my old computer. Consequently, the net (if you’ll pardon the pun) result for me is comparable to trading in an old car that could go 100MPH for a sleek new one that has the potential to go 200 MPH, but can only go 50 MPH here because it was designed only to run on straight, smooth roads somewhere where it’s always sunny.
The Dell techs and I agreed that there wasn’t anything that was going to improve my computer or its programs’ operation until that missing piece of the equation—the proper connection—was restored. Because current operating systems and programs are too deeply entrenched in high-speed thinking, making them dial-up-compatible would amount to reverse mutation. It might happen, but it’s extremely unlikely. But what was gratifying to me was to discover that, once I explained where I was coming from and even though the junior tech had probably never seen, let alone used a dial-up connection, they both understood the problem immediately and the limitations of the system. Maybe they couldn’t make things better for me, but I did suggest that they change their ordering system so that any order for a new system that requests Vista and a modem automatically brings up information regarding the combination’s potential to greatly reduce the speed and efficiency of the system.
So it is with my work teaching and writing about the interaction of companion animal health, behavior and the relationship, and the need to get and understand the basics before getting blinded by ever more sophisticated processes and technology. The sheer prevalence of the current systems is used as proof of their efficacy and yet I can’t help recalling the old cigarette ad that assured the public that “Nine out of ten doctors can’t be wrong.” Yeah, maybe. But maybe not.
Still, I’m not going to give up hope that we may one day return to a truly integrated view that takes into account the whole animal in the whole physical and mental environment in which that animal lives. And I’m not going to give up because I’m some distaff old Don Quixote with nothing better to do than sit on my ass tilting at medical and behavioral windmills. I won’t give up because of those clients and animal care professionals I’ve met and worked with who, once they understand the limitations and even the backwardness of the current approaches, easily grasp the need for change.