It is with Julius Caesar that Ms. Deakin begins. Paraphrasing Shakespeare she compares computers to a tide that women must take at its flood to lead them on to fortune. Shakespeare was obliged by the strictures of meter to refer to "a tide in the affairs of men", and there's the rub.
The book explores the reasons for computers being a male preserve, and suggests remedies. It is a serious matter, and the book is completely devoid of humour. Men should read it as well as women, says Ms. Deakin; men should visit the dentist too, but they shouldn't expect it to be fun.
The author's central argument is that pairs (men and women, whites and blacks, jews and gentiles, etc) are not better of worse than each other, just different. Hence they respond to computers in different ways. Ms. Deakin ropes in the glorious dead (John Stuart Mill) to support her as she champions women's essential practicality - if micros could seem more worthwhile, she says, women might be more attracted to them. That is as good as accusing the rest of us of frivolity, and who would deny it?
Reasons and remedies revolve around social attitudes, schools, marketing and various male prejudices. One remedy Ms. Deakin offers is to make computing the fourth R in schools.
The second section of the book looks at case studies of women and computers, mainly micros. There are eight case histories and they include Ms. Deakin herself.
But the final part of the book, where the writer puts forward some worthwhile micro-based occupations for women at home (or for anybody wanting to use a micro at home) is genuinely valuable. It begins discouragingly - typing and book-indexing are not alluring occupations - but opens out into a prospectus of opportunities.
This is a dull book packed cover to cover with worthy sentiments. If party manifestos are your taste in reading, buy it.
27th October 1984
