Every modern I.T. worker’s office is supposed to have shelves of books, trivia games, a few classic RPGs, a Douglas Adams book, and too much dust. It’s an industry requirement.

All of the above is true, and amazing, and awesome. But… and this is an important ‘but…’ none of it actually answers Gibson’s question. It doesn’t explain why someone might not only be willing and prefer the e-book experience to the physical book. Even the point about access — the ability to actually get to your book whenever you want to get to your book — only extols one of the virtues of the format. It doesn’t explain my preference.

And let’s be clear. I prefer e-books to physical books at this point. I actively prefer e-books to physical books at this point. If a book isn’t available as an e-book, it’s far less likely that I’ll buy it.

So why?

Lots of reasons. Let’s take them in no particular order.

Convenience: The access point rolls into this one, but it’s not comprehensive. E-books are convenient. If I want to buy a book, I can do so almost anywhere at almost any time and then just start reading it. If I want to reread a book I can just start rereading that book. If I want to borrow a book from my local library, thanks to various programs I can do so from my office and just start reading it — with no chance of late fees, I would add. I’ve been a subscriber to both Oyster and Scribd before (trial subscriptions used to come with publication) and when I was I could pick and choose books for free/no extra charge and just read them, whenever and however I wanted — it was like being in the Boston Public Library all the time.

But the convenience extends beyond simple acquisition and access — if I’m reading a book, that book follows me. I can start reading the book on my phone when I have a few minutes, then pick it up on my computer right where I left off, then back on my phone later, then on my Kindle (I have a first generation Kindle — still works great) at home, then on my Nexus tablet or my school iPad…

You’ve figured out there’s a lot of gadgets in my life. The real point is clear, though: wherever I go, my progress in a book goes with me. I can pick it up where I left off trivially.

This leads me inexorably to point two…

I believe you’ve met my friend “Half of Sons and Lovers.” He’s right here, next to “what did you do to that copy of Time for the Stars, Eric?”

Security and durability: I’ve lost a lot of books in my day. I’ve ruined others, whether through dropping in water or reading them until the spine gave out or what have you.

But I’ve never lost an e-book.

Even those e-books I bought from Fictionwise back in the day have cheerfully followed me. They’re living in my Nook account right now, plus I downloaded copies of them (they’re even on my Kindle, which still amuses me because I am easily amused). Using tools like Calibre I’ve been able to maintain my digital library — hundreds of books, at this point, just like my physical library — over any number of technical changes and time.

My favorite example of this is Starship Troopers, by Robert A. Heinlein. This was the first straight up non-kid’s speculative fiction I ever read — and in the 70's, “kids’ science fiction” meant “ridiculous” more often than not. As I’ve grown my tastes, morals, ethics and understanding of the world has changed and evolved… and by rereading Starship Troopers I don’t just get a chance to re-enjoy a story I truly love — I get to gauge my own personal and philosophical evolution through my response to the work. The middle aged liberal writing this essay responds to Starship Troopers significantly differently than the 19 year old left-libertarian did. Both of them really love the book, though.

I’ve probably bought five or six copies of this book over time. Wear and tear, loss, theft, really cool new cover art… what have you. Well, I don’t promise to leave it on the shelf if a new edition has really cool cover art, but since I bought my Kindle copy I’ve never lost it, damaged it or had it stolen. It’s always there. And by ‘there’ I mean ‘wherever I happen to be on any device.’

It even slots into my work life. I can have a book in a window on my computer — reference material or fiction or whatever — and flip to it with a glance without needing to have it take up space on my desk. They’re just there.

Comfort: This one may get me some flack. E-books are easier and more comfortable to read in my experience than physical books.

I know, I know. Everyone knows computer screens aren’t anywhere near as easy to read text on than a physical piece of paper. They know this despite the fact that millions of people read text on computer screens every day, and as a result screens have gotten better and better at presenting information in a comfortable and clear manner while books are… books. Everyone knows that screens are harder to read despite being able to tailor the experience to your needs trivially, and adjust them to changing conditions, while books you’re locked into vagaries of fate and lighting conditions. Everyone knows that screens are harder to read, period, end of story. Articles get written about it. People repeat it. It’s true, damn it. It’s true.

Except it’s so not. At least not for me.

As I get older and my eyes betray me I find I need more contrast and light to read as I always have. I can do this on a screen — especially a backlit screen. I can adjust the font on the fly. The pages never yellow. The ink never fades. I’m significantly less likely to develop eyestrain with a backlit screen than I am with a physical book — and yes, my glasses are up to date.

What’s more, my whole life I’ve read in bed. I love reading in bed. Rolling over, holding books out, angling, making sure I have the light, putting the book next to me… but now, the book glows. It’s so much easier to find the most comfortable position to lie in and hold the reader now.

And on the subject of the book glowing — I’m a married man, now. I can’t always leave my light on if I want to read a book — not without negatively impacting the other person in the room, and that’s a nasty thing to do.

But with an e-reader, I can cheerfully keep reading without adding significant light pollution to the room. I can change it up — go white text on black, say — if I’m needing a change for any reason.

None of this even touches on the bulk of a lot of books. In her essay, Gibson touched on the mass of a physical book — how it feels like it has heft and knowledge, whereas a thin e-reader just doesn’t.

I’ll turn that around — books are bulky. They take up way too much space, especially if the publisher likes clean whitespace on their pages with wide margins and line-spacing. My father’s paperback copy of Benjamin Franklin by William Isaacson is nearly 7"x9"x2" and weighs just shy of two pounds — otherwise known as “a chunk of space in my backpack.” My copy of Benjamin Franklin’s weight can’t be perceived by human senses. I don’t count the weight of the phone any more than I count the backpack — though it’s worth noting I don’t need the backpack to carry my phone. As for reference books — don’t even get me started on the average networking reference’s size. It’s like we’re trying to impress people with our book mass. Haven’t we outgrown that?

To go back to access again — when I’m in the field and need to look up switch specs, it’s nice to not have to carry around the physical manual. Those things are big.

Price: One of the projects I want to get around to is liveblogging my way through the Modern Library 100, from bottom to top. I’ve read a good number of them already, of course — I do have an English degree — but the ones I haven’t I really should read and the ones I have could stand for a re-read.

Well, #100 on the list is The Magnificent Ambersons by Booth Tarkington. If I want to read it for this… hm. Well, first off, let’s see if my school’s library has it. Oo! Yes they do! Score! It’s even in the large type edition to be kind to my aging eyes. And it’s… out.

Seriously? Someone else at this school is reading The Magnificent Ambersons? Well, okay. I could go to the town library — I’m sure they have it — but that won’t happen today. I could buy it from Amazon for about five bucks and have it shipped free to arrive on Thursday. If I’m willing to spend ten bucks I can drive down to Portsmouth and get it today.

On the other hand, if I want the e-book… it’s free and right there. Heck, even Amazon Kindle has a free edition, so it’s one click and I just have it. (Which I just did, because why not?) But if they didn’t I could always get it from Project Gutenberg for free — heck, these days they have one-click links to drop things in your Dropbox or Google Drive, which is about as simple as buying a Kindle book at Amazon as far as installation goes.

Ten bucks plus gas, or five bucks plus time, or free and now. Dang, man.

Even books that aren’t in the public domain tend to be less expensive as e-books. #99 on the list is The Ginger Man by J. P. Donleavy. That’s not in the public domain! And, looking quickly just at Amazon, it looks like I can buy it for just shy of $14 in paperback, or just shy of $10 as a Kindle e-book. Now, I’m sure I could find it used somewhere or find it at the public library (our school library, somewhat surprisingly, doesn’t have it. I may need to donate it to them this year) but for less money than the paperback new I could just start reading it. Which is, after all, the point.

Note that I’m not including Scribd or Oyster or Kindle Unlimited in these assessments — but if someone gets one of those subscriptions… well, dang, man. That’s the ballgame for a lot of this stuff. I doubt there’s anything on the Modern Library #100 that isn’t available to read on any one of those services as part of the subscription fee. I already subscribe to Google Play music so that I can have infinity free music — doing the same for books is pretty much a no brainer when you’re doing a project like this.

Cool Factor: I can read books on a phone. That’s pretty cool.

So, does that cover everything? Will Hadley Gibson read my rebuttal, gnash her teeth and concede defeat by my stunning logic and occasional jokes?

No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. None of this changes her opinions or her experience — her opinions and experience are correct, from her point of view. But maybe they’ll help her understand why they’re not my truth.

That said, there’s one other factor to consider in all this.

What is a book — a ‘real’ book — anyway?