
Telecom Crash Course
Telecommunications, like all highly visible and interesting fields, is full
of apocryphal stories, technical myths, and fascinating legends. Everyone
in the field seems to know someone who knows the outside-plant repairperson who found the poisonous snake in the equipment box in the manhole,1 or the person who was on the cable-laying ship when it pulled up
the cable that had been bitten through by some species of deep water
shark, or a collection of seriously evil hackers, or the backhoe driver who
cut the cable that put Los Angeles off the air for 12 hours.
There is also a collection of technojargon that pervades the telecommunications industry and often gets in the way of the relatively straightforward task of learning how all this stuff actually works. To ensure that
such things don’t get in the way of absorbing what’s in this book, I’d like
to begin with a discussion of some of them. I am a writer, after all; words
are important to me.
This is a book about telecommunications, which is the science of communicating over distance (“tele-”, from the Greek te
–le, meaning “far off”).
It is, however, fundamentally dependent upon data communications, the
science of moving traffic between computing devices so that this traffic
can be manipulated in some way to make it useful. Data, in and of itself,
is not particularly useful, consisting as it does of a stream of ones and
zeroes that is meaningful only to the computing device that will receive
and manipulate those ones and zeroes. The data does not really become
useful until it is converted by some application into information, because
a human can generally understand information. The human then acts
upon the information using a series of intuitive processes that further
convert the information into knowledge; at this point it becomes truly
useful. Here’s an example: A computer generates a steady stream of ones
and zeroes in response to a series of business activities involving the
computer that generates the ones and zeroes. Those ones and zeroes are
fed into another computer, where an application converts them into a
spreadsheet of sales figures (information) for the store from which they
originated. A financial analyst studies the spreadsheet, calculates a few
ratios, examines some historical data (including not only sales numbers
but demographics, weather patterns, and political trends), and makes an
informed prediction about future stocking requirements and advertising
focal points for the store based on the knowledge that the analyst was
able to create from the distilled information. That’s knowledge. To take it
one step further, once decisions have been made and the results of those