June 24, 2015 standalone
(1980’s | computerese, businese | “independent,” “unconnected,” “separate,” “isolated”)
The earliest instances of “standalone” (sometimes hyphenated, even in this day and age) in Google Books date from the sixties and seventies, nearly always in talking about non-networked computers. The first hits recorded in LexisNexis all date from 1979 in that trusty journal American Banker — but invariably in discussions of the use of computers in banking. The word was used often in the early days of ATM’s, which could, in the manner of computers, be divided into the ones clustered together for protection (e.g., in a bank lobby) and the ones out in the field, far from help. (The latter had to be connected to a mainframe somewhere or they wouldn’t have access to anyone’s account data, of course. And even a standalone computer had to be connected to a power source. No computer is an island; no computer stands alone.) ATM’s were brave and new in the eighties, and I suspect their spread pushed “standalone” into prominence. Other business types were certainly using the word by 1990, generally in reference to computers. It was widely understood by then but remained primarily a hardware term at least until 2000. One mildly interesting point about “standalone” is that it could apply to an entire system as well as to a single device. A standalone device can function even if it is not part of a larger system, but an entire system can also absorb the adjective if it doesn’t depend obviously on comparable systems.
“Standalone” retains a strong business bias, even today, but it is available to describe many things besides computers. A complicated piece of legislation might be broken up into standalone bills. Or a film for which no prequels or sequels are planned (or one in which a character that had been a supporting player in other films becomes the protagonist) might be so described. A government agency that doesn’t rely on another agency for its writ. A restaurant that isn’t part of a chain. “Standalone” is not generally used to mean “freestanding,” although it seems like it ought to be, literally speaking. I am a little surprised that I find almost no examples of the word used as a noun (one does see it used as a trade name), although that seems inevitable. All it takes is the careless insertion of one lousy one-letter article, and the deed is done. You’d think it would be harder to blur fundamental grammatical categories, but no.
The rise of this term inevitably accompanied a change in how we use computers. In the seventies and eighties, when we began to get serious about turning them into tools for business, the idea was that each employee’s work station had to be connected to the mainframe, where all the applications and data were stored. In the nineties, we shifted to the opposite model: each employee’s computer should have a big enough hard drive to store software and data; every work station became its own mainframe (or server, as we would say now). In the last few years, we’ve pushed the other way, and now minuscule laptops and tablets run software from the cloud, and store data there as well. The same shift has taken place outside the office; home computers have undergone a similar evolution. There are no doubt good reasons for the shift; the rules and conventions of the computer game have changed quite a bit. But like many such sizable shifts in our culture, it has taken place with little or no consideration of why we did it the other way. Are the once highly-touted advantages of standalone computers no longer real or significant? We don’t know, because the issue was never debated out where most of us could hear. We did it the old way because there was money in it, and now the powers that be have found a new way to make money. You’re stuck with it whether it helps you or not, and you’re not even entitled to an explanation. That should be surprising, but in practice, it isn’t. Our policy debates routinely fail to explore how things got to be the way they are. It’s as if we all woke up one day and said, “Look, a problem! Let’s fix it!” With insufficient historical understanding, we attack large-scale problems with little or no attention to how they arose and fail to acknowledge the evils the existing approach has successfully prevented.