An in-depth analysis of how word processing will reshape the corporate office Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in the June 30, 1975, issue of Business Week.The office is the last corporate holdout to the automation tide that has swept through the factory and the accounting department. But in almost a matter of months, office automation has emerged as a full-blown systems approach that will revolutionize how offices work.
The Dread Pirate Roberts, head of the most brazen drug trafficking site in the world, was a walking contradiction. Though the government says he raked in $80 million in commissions from running Silk Road, he allegedly lived under a false name in one bedroom of a San Francisco home that he shared with two other guys and for which he paid $1,000 a month in cash.
The biggest retail hack in U.S. history wasn’t particularly inventive, nor did it appear destined for success. In the days prior to Thanksgiving 2013, someone installed malware in Target’s (TGT) security and payments system designed to steal every credit card used at the company’s 1,797 U.S. stores.
Over-the-air network TV is gone, along with program schedules, affiliate stations and hotel demand in Cannes in the third week of June. George, Jane, Judy and Elroy get their entertainment, and their news, any way they wish: TV, phone, camera, laptop, game console, MP3 player. They get to choose from what the Hollywood big boys have funded and distributed, or what the greater vlogosphere has percolated to their attention.
Sitting in front of her PC, the phone in her hand connected to a tech support company half a world away, Sheryl Novick was about to get scammed. The company she had reached, PCCare247, was based in India but had built a lucrative business advertising over the Internet to Americans, encouraging them to call for tech support.
There are no hot-tubs. No super-yachts. No models in bikinis. My first encounter with Kim Dotcom is disorienting in many respects, not least for the complete lack of luxury goods and inappropriately dressed women present. Before seeing him take to the stage in Christchurch, the largest city on New Zealand's South Island, my image of him has come almost solely from the internet.
It was a cool, quiet monday evening in northeast England when the computer first told them about Peter Chapman. The clock read a little after five, and two officers from Cleveland police were cruising in their patrol car. A screen lit up next to them: the on-board computer was flashing an alert from the local police network. The message told them the target was a blue Ford Mondeo and gave them its registration number.