Turn off the technology spigot!

In the two decades of CE's existence, two of the most earth-shaking developments have been the emergence of junk bonds as a corporate takeover mechanism and the rise of personal computers. Yet had the magazine asked a panel of experts 100 issues ago to name the most formidable innovations of the next 20 years, almost no one would have mentioned junk bonds or PCs. The moral of this story? When predicting the future, we should never lose sight of the fact that unexpected developments - such as the emergence of overnight delivery services - and unexpected innovations - such as faxes - may change the way we do business forever.

Keeping this in mind, I would like to make a bold, and perhaps foolish, prediction about how things will play out in the next 20 years: Simply put, the Information Age will stall. In the next two decades, the public will demand a less frantic pace of technological innovation with fewer gadgets, frills, and choices. Most important, the public will insist on less, not more, information.

We already see the seeds of this revolt everywhere. The rise of Wal-Mart, Staples, Home Depot, and other warehouse retailers constitutes a clear sign that the public wants shopping to be a massively streamlined process. The difficulty experienced by makers of CD-ROM software is a direct result of the public's dissatisfaction with products that have complicated interfaces and too many superfluous applications. The admission that the Internet is not nearly as populous an electronic community as its proponents claim is the clearest indication yet that the public is weary of information overload.

The enormous success of the country- and-western Mecca in Branson, MO, symbolizes what is happening today at the grass-roots level in America. Branson is a no-frills Las Vegas located in the heart of the country, where plain folks can pull up in their recreational vehicles, hunker down for a few days, and satisfy all their country-and-western needs in a one-stop, cultural shopping experience. It would be difficult to imagine anything less complicated or sophisticated than products released by men named Garth and women named Reba, yet these albums contain by far the most popular music in the U.S. The reason for this is obvious: C&W caters to basic human needs, which is why its popularity cuts across so many demographic lines. But its low-tech primacy in an age of high-tech hype can be attributed to another factor: In an era in which everything is complex and difficult, country-and-western music is direct, simple, and pure. It is the antithesis of the Internet.

Other signs of a grass-roots rebellion against Technological Wizardry and Information Supremacy: the popularity of heavy metal music. The rise of Beavis and Butthead. And the public's clear preference for easy-to-operate Sega Genesis video games.

Does this mean companies should stop developing sophisticated products? By no means. But they should start developing products that don't require a dozen maintenance and installation manuals, and access to a slew of 800-support lines that are always busy. The telephone and the television are still the two most important products used by consumers; one of their basic selling points is that, unlike computers, nobody needs to know what's inside a phone or TV to operate it. You don't need an 800-number to watch "Star Trek" or "Letterman," or to call Mom.

The French have a wonderful expression, reculer pour mieux sauter, which literally means to pull back in order to jump farther ahead. That's what American business must do. The buying public doesn't need better cameras or computers; it needs simpler cameras and computers. It's time for corporate America to diminish the role of the engineer and re-establish the role of the consumer. Moreover, manufacturers should stop expecting the public to embrace every new technology simply because it is new and technologically superior. Yes, a modem is technologically superior to a fax, but a fax is easier to use. Yes, digital compact cassette players sound better than compact disc players, but when you already own 300 compact discs, the last thing you want to hear is that you now need to replace them with 300 compact cassettes.

So let's sit back and learn something from the failure of Beta tape machines, De Lorean sports cars, and laser disc players to capture the public's imagination. Just because a product is better doesn't mean the public needs to buy it. This leads me to my final point: Companies must stop basing this year's marketing campaign on the furious denigration of the product they sold last year. If you tell me I'm on the cutting edge in January because I own a 386, but have plunged into the technological Dark Ages in December because I don't have a 486, eventually I'm going to stop listening to you. That means I'm not going to buy your damned 586. The public is tired of being badgered. It's tired of being humiliated. And it's tired of being deceived.

On the other hand, I could be wrong about all this.

Joe Queenan is a regular contributor on business issues, corporate culture, and financial follies to Barron's and The Wall Street Journal.