Spork mentality

Everyone remembers the spork. Handed out at grade-school cafeterias, these multi-purpose devices were the ultimate integration of fork and spoon. The spork was a fine specimen of a utensil, at least through the eyes of an 8-year-old. You could scoop, poke, jab and scrape your food with it. No longer would homes need three pieces of flatware - the spork would catch on and eventually occupy the position in a place setting opposite the knife.

But after spending a couple years digging at your nutritionally balanced meal with the spork, you began to realize some of its weaknesses. The blended tool didn't work well for soup, for example. The jagged edge, or "mini-tines," allowed the liquid to slide right through before your hand could bring the utensil to your lips.

On the other hand, the spork didn't have quite enough fork characteristics, either. The prongs mostly let you scrape food, which you then had to scoop up with the spoon-like part. The mini-tines weren't long enough to stab a piece of lettuce, and the spork often broke if you attempted to spear a piece of meat. Even spaghetti, often eaten with a fork and a spoon, wasn't a good pick. Those noodles just slid off the integrated device, leaving you to scoop up long strands of pasta and balance them over the spork while eating.

Despite its blend of eating utensils, the spork didn't cut it. The implement didn't take over the way your third-grade mind predicted. In fact, given the choice, I doubt anyone would use a spork again. The problem is that it didn't do either task very well: It wasn't enough of a spoon or a fork to be useful. You made do, but you wanted more.

Some things just aren't meant to be integrated. In this world of collapsing central offices, integrated access devices and increased functionality, "integrated" systems are incessantly promoted. What do you actually gain by blending multiple technologies? Do the individual systems operate as equally well in an integrated device as they do individually? Perhaps yes, but not always. The trade-offs may not be worth it. To integrate two stand-alone systems, you must bring them down to a common level.

Easier said than done.

Some companies integrate technologies because they can, even if they aren't sure of the benefits. A few years ago one vendor added an SS7 interface to its enterprise switch without knowing how customers would use it.

The simple fact is that not all systems need to be integrated. Some devices work better and more efficiently on their own. They have a unique purpose and integration would be cumbersome. The kitchen is loaded with these types of systems. Although you might use the coffee maker and the toaster every morning, you don't really want them in one device.

And non-integrated systems allow for flexibility. You cook with pans on a stove, but you don't want them integrated with the burners. You want options for your burners: small pans, stock pots, saute pans, skillets, teapots, burner-based griddles and grills. Why integrate them? It would certainly detract from the usability of the system. An oven with a microwave in it? Unnecessary. Unwanted.

Of course, some types of integration make sense. Take the coffeemaker with an integrated clock - a perfect blending of technologies. You now can instruct a coffee maker to brew java before you even wake up. It is a blessing for those of us that need a nudge before going about our morning ablutions.

So how do you know if integrated systems are all they are cracked up to be? Look at what is actually provided. Is the benefit real and needed? Is the system solving a real-world problem or is it just melding technologies and components to create a system for today's integration-happy market?

As service providers, you should work with suppliers to ensure the integrated system will pay off in the long run. You don't want to get stuck with a spork.