Better Batteries For Computers.

There's a very old joke from the 70s that's probably not that funny anymore (but when did that stop me?). A guy struggles into the airport VIP lounge with a couple of heavy suitcases. "Just time for a drink," he notes, glancing at his wrist "I thought I was a gadget freak," says the bartender, "but that's some fancy watch." "Fancy?" says the traveler. "Check this." And he takes the watch through all its functions: calculator, talking alarm clock, FM radio, high-res map of the world's major cities, whatever... (This is the short version). "I've gotta have that," gloats the bartender. "How much?" They settle on a figure, the bartender hands over his week's wages, the contents of the till and writes a cheque for the difference. As the traveler dashes off to get his plane the bartender shouts after him, "Hey, don't forget your suitcases." The traveler shouts back, "They're yours. You'll need' em. They're the batteries."

Since those days, nickle-cadmium, nickle-metal hydride and lithium-ion battery technologies have stepped in to deliver a vast improvement to the power weight ratio of mobile computers. But although the problem of power on the move is pretty well solved for wrist watches (my cheap Citizen Eco-Drive runs on daylight), as you'll see from our feature on page 78, high power devices like notebook computers still have a tough time whirring their drives and backlighting their LCD displays for long enough to get much useful work done. "Whatever the hardware guys do, the software guys will pass it all away," is the traditional description of the one step forward, two steps back of bloated apps soaking up the speed advantages of ever more powerful processors. But you could equally say, "Whatever the battery boys do, the CPU gurus will pass it all away."

The first so-called 'portable' computers, pioneered by the Osborne 1, ducked the whole problem by requiring to be plugged into the mains. But during the second half of the 80s the issue was completely solved (at least to my satisfaction) by a computer not much bigger or heavier than a pad of A4 paper that ran for up to a month on four AA batteries. The secret of Clive Sinclair's l88 was a simple reflective monochrome LCD screen and no hard drives. It did the job, and was a great way for me to write my columns sitting out in the garden.
But progress demanded more, 'feature richness'. LCD colour screens arrived, requiring backlighting. Hard drives needed to be spun. Higher power processors ate more juice and got hot, calling for fans, which drank up yet more power. And although battery technology improved, it couldn't keep up with the power-hungry hardware needed to support the ever greedier applications.

Batteries will go on getting better. But as our feature suggests (and there's an evident parallel herewith global warming), the problem can only really be solved by rethinking the demand end of the supply chain. Leaner software running on more efficient processors. That's what it's going to take if we want a future of notebooks with no noisy fans, no hotspot on the underbelly to burn your thigh. And the bonus of at least a whole day's independence from the main supply.

Breakthroughs like the direct methanol fuel cell (DMFC), the latest prototypes of which are reported to triple the capacity of previous cells, will hopefully be a part of that future. But it's not easy separating out the hype from that hope. The Japanese - notably Hitachi, Toshiba and Fujitsu - have been promising DMFC replacements for Li-Ion in notebooks and MP3 players since the beginning of this century.
If everything I've read in press releases over the past twenty years had come true, terabyte storage would be the size of a 50 pence piece, mainframe-class processors would be running at room temperature, and your favourite operating system would be bug-free.

The Tosh DMFC demo earlier this year marks some progress. But I'm not sure I want to fill my iPod like a cigarette lighter. Its conventional Li-Ion battery charges automatically every time I dock, and running out of juice has never been a problem. Notebook computers, ah, that's a different deal.
As I write these last lines, I notice the little LED battery symbol on my ThinkPad is flashing an urgent orange, giving me not much more than a minute to head for the nearest three-pin socket A portable computer you top up a couple of times a month with a few ccs of fuel, probably by slipping in a cartridge like a fountain pen, would certainly recapture the spirit of that old l88. But I'm not holding my breath. And there goes my screen.

_{source PC Plus Mag.}