The Two Sides of Germany's Cutting Edge
There were very few people who were ready for 2020, the toilet roll shortages, the social isolation or the general sense that time had no meaning. The only part of this year that I felt prepared for was all my social interactions becoming virtual. My wife and I dated for four years via Skype, meaning we were more than ready for calls dropping out at random, distorted speech patterns and the weird awkwardness of talking to people via a laptop. One of the more positive aspects of 2020 was that finally the world had caught up, as friends and family wanted to use all manner of different software in order to chat online. Throughout these calls, the topic of Germany was never far from the surface. During the first months of lockdown, people wanted to know how Germany was dealing with the crisis, but after a certain point, there were just questions about life here. Naturally, I was more than happy to answer, but often my answers just didn’t seem to satisfy. More than once, someone would reference how modern Germany was and I often felt like I was some kind of German dream stealer when I informed them that in many ways, Germany really wasn’t that modern.
The belief that Germany is a hyper modern European technology hub seems to be based on the weakest of evidence. Many times, it stems from seeing some superficial piece of technology in an unexpected place during a visit to Germany, such as a video screen displaying cigarette adverts on loop at a petrol station or a touch screen ATM. Other times it’s because of a concerted effort by German companies and the government to project an air of modernity. One typical example would be public transport. Generally, German public transport is very good, especially if it’s compared with the infrastructure of somewhere like the US. Visitors, especially those on business, will marvel at the highspeed rail network of the ICE (Intercity Express) that rockets passengers from one part of the country to the other. What they miss is the purgatory of taking regional trains in Germany, subject to unfathomable delays and sometimes hours waiting on platforms in the middle of nowhere because of an unexplained fault. Even when there is something genuinely modern to celebrate, like the driverless trains of Nürnberg, it masks the reality. Sure, we have driverless trains, but they’re only on one of four lines, which by amazing coincidence is also the line that connects the airport with the massive Nürnberg convention centre and via the luxury hotels of the city centre.
The bifurcation of technology in Germany permeates more than just transport. There are myriad differences between the Federal states of the Bundesrepublik, with some having access, for instance, to better IT infrastructure than others. In industry, there are companies investing heavily in AI or Automation but at the same time being hampered by the fact they can’t find the required company address stamp or that the fax machine stopped working and they can’t send important documentation to their suppliers. Even when it comes to the crown jewel of German automobile manufacture, for all the exciting tech that is loaded into a top of the line BMW or a Mercedes, these companies are light years behind Tesla, who are not only improving and adding to the cars they have already developed, but are also proving what the traditional car manufacturers of Germany have been in denial about for years; people actually want electric cars.
What the pandemic seems to have done is underline and announce to a larger audience of Germans that Germany has some serious technology issues. Schools were quick to acknowledge the need to move lessons to online but were entirely unprepared for it. Training on systems that are widely used in many other countries was rushed out and despite the best efforts of teachers, applied haphazardly. Speaking to teachers, it feels like every school has a different system, a different platform and are severely underserved, in Bavaria at least, by a state administration that lacks a comprehensive understanding of the limitations and needs of online schooling. The Mebis platform used here isn’t fit for purpose, and despite months of effort, is still failing. Some schools have resorted to using platforms such as MS Teams, which works, but is not available in all schools. Online school also requires pupils to have stable internet connections, which is never a guarantee in more rural areas and even in some cities. For a school system that is regularly criticised for its unfairness, this just seems like a distasteful joke being played on school pupils from less affluent areas or advantaged backgrounds.
A lack of preparedness to use existing systems seems to be one of the main outcomes of the pandemic. Schools were not alone, many high street companies, like their counterparts in the automobile industry, have either avoided investing in initially costly shopping platforms or just didn’t see the point. The result over the last nine months has been these same companies suddenly finding that they are in no way ready for the 21st century. Speaking with an employee of the department store chain Karstadt, I was told their shopping platform suffered from crashes due to the uptick in demand from online shoppers. Very few supermarkets deliver here, and many companies have never seen the need to invest in an online presence as for the majority of the time the market didn’t demand it.
Up until this year, there didn’t seem to be any serious demand for high street chains to deliver. Customers in Germany seemed to prefer to see what they were getting, before they stumped up the cash. It could be because Germans are careful consumers, but it could also be because there is a deep vein of distrust for technology in some quarters. Even if all the issues above didn’t exist and the tech required to weather the covid storm had been freely available, Germans have reservations about using technology that in other countries is banal. It was only in January that someone in the queue behind me felt the need to voice their frustration that I was choosing to pay for €10 of shopping on a debit card. This, combined with the failure to prepare a suitable online shopping platform, could actually have deadly consequences. When C&A recently announced a 50% sale, shoppers queued outside stores, creating chaotic scenes due to social distancing and potentially creating virus hotspots in high streets across Germany.
There is perhaps light at the end of the tunnel. In the summer, Apple Pay became available to German consumers, which brought humorous scenes in shops all around my home city as people paid using their mobiles, while those queuing behind watched open mouthed in awe. Contactless payment is now ubiquitous, where before it was a 50/50 gamble if the shop or restaurant you went to even took cards. Like my friends and family who suddenly discovered the benefits of chatting over Zoom, maybe Germany is being pulled towards a base level of pragmatic technology use. Some may not like it, but the future might well and truly be now.
