Contemplate, dear reader, the wry description of a mathematician as an organism that converts coffee into theorems.
Does that half-liter of water produce more theorems in the mathematician's coffee pot or somewhere off in the cloud?
For today, dear reader, we will not be too fussy about what data a "data center" processes. A center might provide the servers that store your photographs, music videos, social media posts, and cribbed term papers. As the Unofficial Newspaper of Record notes, "
New Data Center Built To Handle Influx Of Online Rants Against Data Centers." These days, mass storage using solid state components apparently does file allocation among servers so seamlessly that disk defragmentation is no longer necessary.
National Review's Charles C. W. Cooke's "
Your Data Center Life" suggests the
civilization-advancing capabilities of a variety of information technology complexes lumped together as data centers.
If, during the next Super Bowl, even 10 percent of the nation’s data centers were to be summarily switched off, the people of the United States would be on the verge of revolution.
The term we have chosen to describe the technology I have discussed here is “the cloud.” But, of course, there is no such thing. There are just data centers and the computers that run inside them. Conceptually, “the cloud” is a useful abstraction. But if taken too literally, it blinds us to an important reality: Each one of the 5,427 data centers in the United States is a real place, full of rows of real machines, that run on real electricity, and that are maintained by real people. Your data — by which I mean your emails, your bank account, your business files, your photographs of your kids — are sitting somewhere on a real hard disk. If I drove to where that hard disk is and smashed it up with a pickaxe, it would break, and the only reason that you probably would not permanently lose the data that it once held is that the data also exist in some other real location, on another real disk, in another real person. Bluntly put: The integrity of your data — and of your ability to access it whenever you want — is the result of your having cheap access to lots of different data centers, in lots of different places, so that if something bad happens to one of them, your stuff is backed up elsewhere.
Thus, a data center might be a switching center to keep the wireless internet and cell phone conversations working, something it does so well that the eternally ditzy former vice president could wave her hands about that data "cloud" being all around us, sort of like Yoda's Force but lacking the capability to lift your spacecraft, er, your campaign, out of the swamps of Dagoba. Or it might include actual computers, although Tyler Cowen recently noted that
computing capacity is still a constraint on artificial intelligence doing anything intelligent. That doesn't surprise me: businesses and universities might have phased out their legacy mainframes, but true supercomputers still exist and they're still useful. That Chat GPT prompt the above message complains about is going through that water and power to search through the information at its disposal, way more rapidly than the most assiduous of file clerks with the best associative memory. Those data centers might be coming up with another "most strikeouts against switch hitters by any major league pitcher since 1908," or more quickly comparing millions of x-rays or gene sequences, and perhaps the computing capacity is finding a proof of Fermat's Theorem that
does fit the margin of a Renaissance textbook.
Now contemplate replacing that file clerk with stepper switches and relay stacks.
That's a simple relay stack connecting two old-school dial telephones in a museum of telephony on the Iowa State Fair grounds. A docent there told me that younger kids interpret "dial" as putting their finger on the number, as they've never had to physically dial in a number. Now, you could build a computer network out of such relays and stepper switches, although it would be seriously impractical. For that matter, the first mainframe computers replaced the relay and stepper switch accumulators with vacuum tubes to handle the logic, and the electrical, cooling, and maintenance requirements (one engineer replacing bum tubes, full time) extracted a much larger price on that "most critical resource."