A tragedy in 21st century technological societies is the unrelenting strain of adversarial interoperability.
Apple’s walled garden keeps out side-loading apps and any API that could mess with the Job–Ives vision of perfection that is the iPhone. MMS and SMS create a hierarchy between users of different devices and hinder quick connections and experience over text. Amazon locks out file formats and third-party sellers of books to keep Kindle customers docile within an untenable software experience.
For years, I have watched and analyzed innovations in the e-reader space with fascination.
For the last year, I (like much of the world thanks to The Verge and other impassioned tech sources) have watched the Boox Palma rise to as much prominence as a cheaply Chinese-made handheld e-ink device can rise.
The pitch for the Palma (and its quickly released, nearly identical successor, the Palma II) is total control in a perfect form factor — perfect, because it recognizes our society’s preferred way of consuming any kind of content currently sits in the palm of your hand and stands no taller than six point seven inches.
The Palma is an e-ink iPod Touch with a heavy software focus on reading…
And this is a pitch I’m in love with.
I grew up with the iPod Nano and iTouch as constant companions.
This formed my addictive tendencies toward tech. The pocket carry became a lifestyle and way of being in my teens through these products’ presence. I poured my heart and soul into the music, apps, and entertainment (not to be dramatic or anything) on these devices. The reason I write on tech is because of the magic of these few, final innovations from the Jobs era and their outsized impact on my life before a smartphone ripped the script.
When the Palma appeared (in full, abashed transparency), I fell hopelessly in love.
I wonder if this will only make sense to a small intersection of people (e-ink users, readers, tech enthusiasts, minimalists, and ex-productivity junkies), but having an e-reader fit in your pocket and not have cellular is the mashup I’ve wanted but never could articulate on my own.
The thing fits in my hand perfectly with great visibility.
The volume rockers on the side scroll pages effortlessly.
The lack of cellular and e-ink friction de-addict the device.
That alone would make it a great product, e-reader, iTouch successor — but its interoperability unlocks new heights.
Running a cracked version of Android OS, this little powerhouse of a device (thank you, e-ink slow-drip battery drain) can be fully tailored to your needs. All the apps, all the button functionality, all the connections. It beats out the Kindle by miles, allowing any file type, software experience, and customization. It makes more sense than a smartphone with its absence of blue light, its anchor to Wi-Fi for browsing, and the built-in friction against doing anything but flipping pages.
In a season of child-rearing — where my reading intake suffers due to my baby-on-the-chest, nap-filled world — the simplicity, comfort, and accessibility of the Palma has reinvigorated my practice and enjoyment of the e-reader space.