First impressions of iPad

I’ve had the good fortune to get my hands on Apple’s new iPad twice during the past week. Long enough to poke it, prod it, read on it and generally try to determine whether this thing is actually useful, or merely another beautifully designed object from Cupertino engineered to separate otherwise sensible adults from their money.

The interface is clean and immediately understandable. No manual required, which is fortunate because nobody wants to spend an evening reading instructions for a device that is supposed to represent the future. The touchscreen is every bit as responsive as the iPhone’s, the sound is surprisingly decent, and battery life appears respectable. Apple has once again demonstrated that when it comes to making hardware you desperately want to touch, they know exactly what they’re doing.

Reading an e-book is surprisingly pleasant. You even get the little page-turning animation, presumably for those of us who require reassurance that civilization has not completely abandoned paper. Some of the familiar iPhone apps have already been redesigned for the larger screen, and Google Maps is particularly enjoyable when liberated from the comparatively cramped confines of a phone. Regular iPhone apps work too, although they’re simply blown up to fill the screen. They function, but they can look a little like someone enlarged a passport photo to billboard size.

Then there are the omissions. Apple has never been sentimental about supposedly indispensable technology. Remember the outrage when they started killing off the floppy drive? Civilization somehow survived. This time, however, I really miss having a USB port. Bluetooth is fine when everything speaks Bluetooth. Unfortunately, everything doesn’t.

The iPad is also slightly awkward for watching a long movie. It’s light enough until you’ve been holding it for an hour, at which point it begins to feel less like an elegant slab of the future and more like a very expensive paving stone. A case or stand suddenly starts looking like less of an accessory and more of a medical precaution.

But the real problem is the familiar Apple lock-in. For all the elegance of the hardware, you’re still expected to march obediently through iTunes for file management, while customization is kept on a very short leash. Apple gives you a magnificent machine and then politely explains which doors you’re allowed to open.

That’s the frustrating part. The iPad is genuinely impressive technology. Fast, elegant, intuitive and enormously enjoyable to use. And then somebody bolts the doors and reminds you that you’re visiting Apple’s house, where Apple chooses the furniture, Apple controls the stereo and you absolutely do not get a key to the liquor cabinet.

Still, despite all that, I like it. If the price comes down a little, I suspect Apple is going to sell an obscene number of these things. And judging by how difficult it was to put the iPad down after only two encounters, I may eventually become one of the victims.