As Google pulls the plug on Google Reader, there's apparently a lesson for all of us who cast our lot with software we come to depend on

People who loved Google Reader are in despair.

"We launched Google Reader in 2005 in an effort to make it easy for people to discover and keep tabs on their favorite websites. While the product has a loyal following, over the years usage has declined. So, on July 1, 2013, we will retire Google Reader. Users and developers interested in RSS alternatives can export their data, including their subscriptions, with Google Takeout over the course of the next four months."

-- from SVP Technical Infrastructure Urs Hölzle's Google website post "A second spring of cleaning," announcing official thumbs-downs for eight products

"Google says it killed Reader because the software's usage was on the decline. But Google Reader was the most popular RSS reader on the Web. If people were quitting Reader, aren't they likely to quit the alternatives, too? . . .

"[S]oftware is expensive. To build and maintain the best software requires engineering and design talent that will only stick around when a company has an obvious way to make money."

-- Slate's Farhad Manjoo, in "Why Did Google Reader Die?"

by Ken

I put that word "apparently" in the title of t his post because I didn't want to overstate my claim to understanding what the heck we're talking about here. But thanks to Slate's Farhad Manjoo, I think I sort of grasped his point about a lesson to be learned from Google's announcement that it's pulling the plug on Google Reader.

And I was, at the time, knee deep (or at least virtually knee deep) in a swamp of online wailing and hand-wringing over the news. So many people whose online activism I respect were in a state of hysteria that I almost wished I had more than the most general clue as to what Reader does, or rather did, or more precisely soon will have done.

Note that I said I almost wished I had more than the most general clue. The clue that I have is enough to leave me pretty confident that the job Reader was designed to do isn't a job I need or want done. Still, I feel the pain of the soon-to-be-abandoned Google Reader castoffs.

Farhad Manjoo feels that pain too. In his Slate post, after pointing out that he's "made it pretty clear that I don't like RSS readers," he addresses the GR Faithful directly.

You didn't just love Google Reader. No, your feelings about it were much deeper -- you relied on Google Reader, making it a central part of your daily workflow, a key tool for organizing stuff you had to read for work or school. Now it's gone, and you feel lost. Sure, there are alternatives, and transferring all your feeds to one of these will probably take just a few minutes. But that won't be the end of it. You'll still have to learn the quirks of your new software. You'll still have to get the rhythm down. And most of all, you'll still worry about abandonment. Google says it killed Reader because the software's usage was on the decline. But Google Reader was the most popular RSS reader on the Web. If people were quitting Reader, aren't they likely to quit the alternatives, too?

As it turns out, though, the pain Farhad feels isn't so much for the GR deprivees as it is for, well, all of us.

I feel for you. I really do. While I didn't use Reader, Reader-lovers' plight could happen to any of us. Every day, our computers, phones, and tablets harangue us to try new stuff -- new apps, new sites, and new services that will supposedly make this or that thing so much more awesome than before. You're aware of the dangers of committing too hastily, so before you get too invested, you diligently check reviews and solicit opinions from tech pundits like myself. But when all those assessments converge, who can blame you for getting in too deep? Back in 2005, when Google launched Reader, the company talked about it like they'd keep it around forever. And they probably thought they would. You took them at their word, and now you've been burned.

Reader's death illustrates a terrible downside of cloud software -- sometimes your favorite, most indispensable thing just goes away.

In fact, the head of Farhad's post, "Why Did Google Reader Die?," is less descriptive of what's on his mind than the subhead, "And what free Web service will be next?" And he's quick to point out that the death of a service like Google Reader isn't like the old days of software that fell by the wayside.

When desktop software died it wasn't really dead. If you're still a fan of ancient versions of WordPerfect or Lotus 1-2-3, you can keep using them on your aging DOS box. But when cloud software dies, it goes away for good. If the company that's killing it is decent, it may let you export your data. But you'll never, ever be able to use its code again.

Which is why Farhad suggets thinking of the death of Reader as "a wake-up call -- a reminder than any time you choose to get involved with a new app, you should think about the long haul."

It's not a good idea to hook up with every great app that comes along, even if it's terrifically innovative and mind-bogglingly cheap or even free. Indeed, you should be especially wary if something seems too cheap. That's because software is expensive. To build and maintain the best software requires engineering and design talent that will only stick around when a company has an obvious way to make money. If you want to use programs that last, it's not enough to consider how well they work. You've also got to be sure that there's a solid business model attached to the code.

And if a particular tool is indispensable to you -- your project management software, for instance -- you might want to think about choosing one of those incredibly old-fashioned software companies that will allow you to pay for its stuff. Just paying for software doesn't guarantee its longevity -- companies that accept your money can always go out of business. But companies that take your money are at least signaling to you that their software is just as important to them as it is to you. On the other hand, companies that don't take your money and won't even say how the product you love will ever make money -- hey, they're fun for a romp, but don't be surprised when they ditch town in the middle of the night. (I'm looking at you, TweetDeck, Tr.im, Memolane, Posterous and all those Yahoo apps!)

Even at my primitive level of understanding I get the gist here, and it makes sense, doesn't it? Farhad does an intriguing rundown of free Google products, deducing why some (like the search engine itself, Chrome, Gmail, and Docs) seem well enough tied into serious long-term Google interests to be fairly safe, while others (like Voice, which "has no clear business model") and Scholar (where "Google does not display any ads . . . and I can't think of any other way it's padding Google's bottom line") could be candidates for deep-sixing.

And then he turns to the still-extant world outside Google. Reader's demise reminds him in particular "that when I really get into software that does have a pay option, I should pay for it," and he concludes with this exhortation:

I encourage you to do the same, if you can afford it. Free stuff online is great, but nothing is free forever. If you care for something, open your wallet.

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