For what it's worth, PCs are subject to the exact same slow decline, even if the author's romantic notions of repurposing an old machine ring true. While they may be suitable for old games on an unnetworked, phone-activated WinXP, or as a power-hungry Linux machine that will perform admirably as long as web browsers aren't involved, both fates are the same: frozen in time, locked out of the dizzying speed of evolution of online services and the portals through which they are viewed. Stallman's right yet again: the offline programs will run just the same, but the online programs are subject to change at a moment's notice, from Apple shedding support of 32-bit hardware, to application makers shedding support for old OS versions, to online backends forcing mandatory updates.
It feels worse with the iPad because its marketing made an impression of a sleek, "just-works" kind of device. Of course, its utility is tied exclusively to applications from a captive marketplace, and often, to remote services frontended by those apps or the browser, making its elegance a leaky abstraction. Today's Chromebooks, another "just-works" device, will be in the same situation in five years.
But with Chromebooks, or Android phones (if you're lucky), or x86 or x64 PCs, you can replace the stock OS and repurpose the device on the hardware's own remaining merits. An iPad is just stuck.
It feels worse with the iPad because its marketing made an impression of a sleek, "just-works" kind of device. Of course, its utility is tied exclusively to applications from a captive marketplace, and often, to remote services frontended by those apps or the browser, making its elegance a leaky abstraction. Today's Chromebooks, another "just-works" device, will be in the same situation in five years.
But with Chromebooks, or Android phones (if you're lucky), or x86 or x64 PCs, you can replace the stock OS and repurpose the device on the hardware's own remaining merits. An iPad is just stuck.