Preface

The Outer Banks of North Carolina is a chain of barrier islands located off the eastern shore of the state. Most famous for the Kitty Hawk dunes where the Wright Brothers first achieved powered flight, the Banks have a long, rich history. The pirate Edward “Blackbeard” Teach sailed out of Ocracoke Island, while the treacherous waters offshore have claimed dozens of ships over the centuries. In World War II, German submarines sunk merchant vessels there; divers recovered an Enigma decoder machine from one such German submarine in 1981. Merchant hunters once used massive shotgun-like weapons to down hundreds of duck and geese in a single outing on the 30-mile wide Pamlico Sound.

For hundreds of years, the Banks were remote and hard to get to; this quality, along with the wind and sand, was part of the appeal to the Wrights. The 1960s saw the beginning of a period of rapid growth and discovery by the outside world. Bridges and causeways replaced some of the ferries, world-record marlin were caught by Hatteras Island charter captains, and the rapid growth of such southeastern cities as Atlanta, Raleigh-Durham, Charlotte, and the Washington, DC area helped drive a rapid increase in tourism. Finally, the rise in such adventure sports as surfing, windsurfing, and kiteboarding coincided with the area's unique combination of wind and waves to draw international attention to the area. For all the snowboarder-like attitude, however, fishing—on the sound in a skiff, in the Gulf Stream from a 50-foot “battle wagon,” or off the beach—was and remains a massive draw to the area.

Despite the modernization, the islands remain prone to hurricane damage. The fragile barrier islands are continually shifting and extreme storms can breach the thin islands. While the sunshine and miles of white sand beaches, many of them protected from development as part of a national seashore, exert their pull toward escape and relaxation, locals keep a close eye on the weather. Evacuation routes are clearly marked and frequently used. After one hurricane, renters were given flyers asking them to be patient with storekeepers and restaurant waitstaff insofar as some of them had just lost their homes.

The Outer Banks is clearly a unique locale, a barrier island ecosystem with a rich history. Inspired by the Foxfire experiment in oral history begun by a Georgia English teacher in the 1960s, the local high school interviewed longtime residents for an excellent series of recollections. As recently as the 1990s, weather information was displayed in block letters, much like old IBM text-based PCs, on local cable television. Wireline telephone coverage was spotty: some calling cards worked better than others. The New York Times, Sunday or otherwise, was impossible to obtain. Renting a house involved a mimeographed list of options and a toll-free telephone call to a property management firm. Being removed from the rat race was part of the Banks' appeal.

The rapid growth of the Sun Belt, combined with the real estate bubble of 1995 to 2008, encouraged building and more building. Houses grew bigger. Pools became the norm, even for oceanfront houses. Real estate firms multiplied, and moved from mimeograph to black-and-white offset printing to thick, slick full-color catalogs. The Washington Post and Sunday New York Times infiltrated the islands, as did upscale restaurants. Cell phone service improved; high-speed Internet access became a routine feature of the rental properties.

As of 2011, the Outer Banks feels less isolated than ever before. Some property managers have dispensed with paper catalogs altogether, moving instead to online guides that feature Google Earth aerial imagery, video walk-throughs of the properties, and extensive photo galleries. The New York Times, the BBC, and Al Jazeera are all equally and easily available. Weather channels and resources have proliferated.

Cell phone coverage can extend up to 20 miles offshore. It's great for the fishing guides but just as useful for making the BlackBerry work. Wi-Fi in many rental houses makes tuning out an act of will rather than a default state of affairs. Anonymity becomes less common: A colleague of ours was on the same island as we were on a recent visit, a fact we discovered through Facebook. His page even told us what music he listened to while there.

Local retailers of everything from books to kiteboard gear to fishing tackle now ship worldwide from online storefronts. Fishing guides and restaurateurs look to Match.com for a social life, claiming that “It's hard to develop a relationship with people who are only here a week at a time.” Political organizers have turned to the Web as court decisions to protect nesting birds and sea turtles have restricted beach access for fishing and other recreation. One of the main bridges connecting the islands is in need of substantial repairs, and there are online petitions and other resources devoted to that cause as well.

Relentless improvements in electronic connection have brought many changes to life on these islands. Personal safety during extreme weather, health care, and retail selection, particularly in the off season, have increased by a sizable extent. At the same time, the Outer Banks is no longer unique: In a highly connected world, anyplace can to a degree become everyplace. Getting CNN, and Twitter, and e-mail just as easily in an island paradise as in an airport Hilton also has consequences.

This book attempts to explore the intersection of our connecting technologies and our institutions, and the changes that come to business as a result. For a variety of reasons—not all of them related to the Internet—making a living, finding a partner, and other essential, defining pursuits are changing. Just as with life on the Banks, the changes are happening fast, but often invisibly, particularly for the young. The book began as an undergraduate class on global information technology strategy, an exercise in looking closely at the ways in which information and technology alter the business landscape. My objective is neither to be a cheerleader for IT nor to lament the lost glories of years gone by. Rather, I hope to identify both the imperative and the resources for still-deeper innovation as we extend the impact of the information revolution to more strata of society, more areas of the globe, and ultimately more workers.

This book's argument has five phases. First, some basic facts about technology, management, and economics are examined to set some context. The second section is concerned with how humans organize resources and do work in the changing landscape. Business model disruption and innovation is the focus of seven case studies in Section III. A number of particular technologies that can serve as innovation resources—building blocks, as it were—are discussed in Section IV. Finally, the last section sketches out five broad areas of rapid change in the foreseeable future.