Bret Taylor, who was developing a Microsoft Word alternative called Quip, famously predicted that online-first services such as Google Docs, Netflix, and Spotify would render conventional file management obsolete. With a background in creating Google Maps and serving as Facebook’s CTO, Taylor asserted that traditional file formats like .DOC and .MP3 would one day feel as outdated as floppy disks. His predictions have largely come true; receiving a Word document in an email might feel more cumbersome than accessing a shared Google Doc. Nonetheless, I find value in traditional computer files.
I appreciate apps that generate files I can access directly on my devices because they provide a sense of control. Many online services do not offer this same degree of ownership, which is why there is a growing movement among tech enthusiasts to reconsider the implications of a file-free future. Maintaining your own files can serve as a safeguard against losing data. Beyond just preservation, having files allows users the freedom to select the best tool for their tasks.
If an app like Obsidian shuts down, I can still work with my files in different Markdown editors without needing to convert or migrate them. This flexibility applies to my photos as well; I back up my camera roll to Google Photos but also keep copies stored in OneDrive and locally on my computer. Furthermore, a collection of files reflects one’s digital experiences, becoming more meaningful over time. For example, my “OldComputer” folder serves as a digital time capsule filled with forgotten photos and nostalgic projects, evoking feelings that platforms like Google Docs or Spotify cannot replicate.
While I’m not advocating for a complete rejection of online services, I’m pleased to see a renewed appreciation for file ownership. It’s a concept worth celebrating, regardless of what tech executives might prefer.