When I left school my first job in 1991 was a Production Runner for a TV gameshow being filmed in northwest England. This role is TV’s equivalent of an office gopher, and you’re expected to help with whatever jobs the production team needs a spare pair of hands with.
Part of the job was to keep a file of all of the hundreds of people who’d applied to be contestants on the show, and my boss made me painstakingly fill in a paper form for each person and store it in a lever-arch file. This was far too laborious and old school for my 17 year old tastes, so I convinced the grizzled old producer that we should create a database on the office’s solitary PC, which would streamline the entire process.
He agreed, but insisted that I continue with filing the paper forms, which left me tearing my hair out. The stupid old duffer clearly didn’t understand the point of technology was to reduce work, and now I’d ended up adding extra work to an already painful job.
Nevertheless I pushed forward and created the database to demonstrate that it would be more efficient and useful than the paper system, and pretty soon we had a database of hundreds of applicants. The team were impressed to find that it was suddenly much easier to search through the applicants to find the ones with the attributes they were looking for – I took this as a small victory but was still pissed off that I had to keep doing the hand-written forms.
I sulked and complained and repeatedly told my boss it was a complete waste of time writing out the forms by hand when I was already entering them into the database much more quickly. But he was from a different generation and while he admitted that the database was useful, he’d feel more comfortable if we had paper copies of everything.
And then, one day, disaster struck. The team wanted me to help them search for some new contestants through the database of applicants, but somehow the 5.25inch floppy disk which stored the data had got corrupted and everything was lost. I was 17 and this was my first job, I’d never suffered a catastrophic loss of data before, so it had never occurred to me to create a backup. The disk worked and I had no reason to believe it would ever stop working. Nobody had taught me about the importance of backup, so I’d had to learn the hard way.
I felt utterly humiliated. I spent a whole week working late to re-enter the data, and sulkily admitted that my boss had been proved right all along – without the paper copies we would have been screwed. Could have saved myself a lot of trouble by spending ten minutes making a couple of copies of the database.