The 3.5-inch floppy disk’s long, slow, unceremonious march toward its death
came to an end on Friday, when Sony announced it will end domestic sales of the
disk by the end of the year, and end production of the disks by March 2011. Japan’s
Mainichi Daily newspaper reported Sony, which commands a 70
percent market share for the disks, sold 12 million floppy disks in fiscal
2009, down from 47 million disks in fiscal 2009. Sony first launched the 3.5-inch
disks in 1981. Disk sales within Japan
began in 1983.
While extremely popular as a data storage format after it debuted (replacing
the 5.25-inch floppy disk), as larger-capacity devices and discs such as USB
sticks and blank CDs appeared on the market, computer makers like Dell and
Apple gradually withdrew support for the format. Sony has already discontinued
manufacturing the disk domestically; most current sales of floppy disks have
been to developing countries and India.
Now the disks, with their 1.44MB of space, seem destined to languish
permanently in a fondly remembered, if largely forgotten, graveyard of ancient
technologies.
In the age of non-networking computers, the floppy disk stood as the primary
external writable storage device. Even to this day, the format remains an icon,
its form serving as a commonly used “Save” icon in applications such as
Microsoft Word. In 1998, Apple introduced the iMac, which had no floppy drive. Dell
followed suit in 2003, followed by Hewlett-Packard in 2009.
While the disks were known for being susceptible to damage via dust, water and
user error (there are urban legend stories aplenty describing users stapling
the disks to paper reports), human-computer interaction (HCI) and cognitive
science author Donald Norman lauded the disk for its mechanical usability and
praised its design. In the first chapter of his book “The Design of Everyday
Things,” Norman called the disks a
“simple example” of a good design.
“The diskette has a square shape: there are apparently eight possible ways
to insert it into the machine, only one of which is correct. What happens if I
do it wrong? I try inserting the disk sideways. Ah, the designer thought of
that,” he writes. “A little study shows that the case really isn't square: it's
rectangular, so you can't insert a longer side. I try backward. The diskette
goes in only part of the way. Small protrusions, indentations, and cutouts
prevent the diskette from being inserted backward or upside down: of the eight
ways one might try to insert the diskette, only one is correct, and only that
one will fit. An excellent design."