The iPad Remains Apple’s Ultimate Rorschach Test

This week, I bought a favorite Apple product for the last time. 

I have a soft spot for iPads. Always have, since buying the original in April of 2010 for a quaint $499. I’ve always loved the portability and indefinability. Can it replace my laptop? (For a long time, the answer was no. Now, the answer is yes, but not quite as perfectly as you’d like. And now many models cost more than MacBooks.)

My favorite iPad peripheral (that I just bought again for the last time) is a divisive choice: the Smart Folio Keyboard. Apple discontinued the keyboard several years ago, replacing it with a bulkier, fancier, and of course more expensive, model: the Magic Keyboard for iPad.

People seem to love the new keyboard. But it bloats the iPad, wrapping it in the bulk and weight of a laptop. 

The now-defunct Smart Folio Keyboard does not bloat the iPad. It complements the design, protects the device, and delivers a unique typing experience.

Many people hated the keyboard. Jason Snell, who writes about Apple and tech, compared the typing experience to “typing on a tent” because of its outer fabric shell. 

But I love that keyboard, still.

And my old one wore out. That’s why I bought one, still new and in-box, to partner on a final adventure with my 12.9” 5th-generation iPad Pro. Thanks to a corner crack in the screen and AppleCare, my aging iPad was replaced last fall with a refurb: new battery, new casing, new life. My 2021 model now has plenty of miles to go, and a tentesque keyboard to ride along with it.

The keys strike with a Batman-like “Thwack!” It’s the sound of authority. The sound of justice. The sound of the Dark Knight landing a decisive right-cross to the Joker. 

No other keyboard has the same sound and feel. 

Of course, the 12.9-inch (or 13-inch as Apple refers to it now) iPad Pro is the wrong iPad for just about everyone, including me. It’s a little too large and heavy for true iPad convenience. It’s not a one-hander: you need to hold it firmly at 3 and 9 o’clock to keep it steady. It’s just a little too small to replace an adequate MacBook screen. And it balances like a drunk on a barstool when on your lap.

But I like it for “kitchen table” tasks — easy web browsing, or thwacking out an email or two — while my big MacBook stays upstairs. Also, the bigger screen can cover a second football game nicely, perched on the coffee table, while a main game plays on TV.

I also have an 11” iPad Pro. Because if you’re not sure what to do with one iPad, by all means get a second one.

The use cases are crystallized on my 11-inch device. That’s where my daily habits of reading and writing get done. It’s my primary device for reading books, whether in bed, on a tabletop, or perched in front of my sweating face on the elliptical. It’s also the ideal size for an old comic book nerd who still likes to check on the aforementioned Batman. And, paired with a standalone Apple Keyboard (not the foldable) it’s the perfect size for banging out rough drafts in daily writing sessions. 

An eleven-inch screen is expansive enough for writing, but cramped enough to ward off the temptation to bring in a second app for distraction.

The limitation of the screen is not a bug. It’s a top feature. 

Besides artists, I’m not sure anyone needs an iPad. 

If you have a phone and laptop, you have everything covered. The iPad lurks in the hazy no-man’s-land between those two products. It’s pretty good for lots of tasks, and ideal for very few. But that hazy ground is a fun place to stumble around, tripping over new use cases and improvisations. You can reinvent your iPad, over and over. 

My dad still rolls with the iPad he bought in 2013. Never upgraded. Never put in a new battery. Software updates dried up long ago. But it keeps doing what he wants it to do, so why upgrade?

What took me two iPads to figure out, he figured out with one, over a dozen years ago.

The iPad lets each user decide what it’s for. Everyone looks at the same slab of glass and sees a little different device. For me, the iPad supports a daily reading and writing habit. For you, it’s probably something else. The iPad has survived for 16 years not because Apple nailed exactly what it’s for, but because you make that choice.

Unlike me, you shouldn’t need two iPads to figure that out.