Broad Band: The Untold Story of the Women Who Made the Internet

Picked this up on a whim and was immediately sucked into the lives of Radia Perlman and Elizabeth 'Jake' Feinler. Before reading this, I had no idea that a woman was essentially the human version of Google and WHOIS during the early days of the NIC. Evans has a gift for taking dense, technical concepts and turning them into a compelling, story-driven narrative. The book is fascinating because it doesn't just focus on the hardware; it looks at how women pioneered the social and community aspects of the web. Frankly, it’s about time someone acknowledged that the 'soft' side of computing—the applications and the human connection—is exactly what made the internet take off. The prose is sharp, the research is top-notch, and I felt like I was getting a secret tour of a history I only thought I knew.

Claire L. Evans writes with a passion that is absolutely contagious. This isn't just a dry list of names and dates; it's a vibrant, story-driven journey through the 'fringe' areas of tech like hypertext and community building that women claimed as their own. I was particularly moved by the sections on the ENIAC Six and how they had to teach themselves how to program the machine by studying logic diagrams. The truth is, women have been the backbone of computing since Ada Lovelace first saw the potential in Babbage’s engine. This book is a fascinating read for anyone who wants to understand the human side of the internet. It’s well-researched and filled with wit. Evans manages to make even the most technical milestones feel like high-stakes drama. I couldn't put it down.

Not what I expected at all, in the best possible way. I thought this would be a technical slog, but it’s actually a beautiful, story-driven account of the women who shaped our world. From the manual labor of rote calculation during the war to the million-dollar IPOs of the 90s, Evans paints a vivid picture of resilience and innovation. The way she links Ada Lovelace's poetic science to the modern web is just brilliant. It reminded me why I fell in love with technology in the first place, before it all became about venture capital and data mining. The prose is elegant, the research is exhaustive, and the stories are deeply human. This is an important book that deserves a spot on every tech enthusiast's shelf. Truly a wonderful tour of the untold side of history.

Broad Band offers an illuminating perspective on the evolution of digital spaces, moving far beyond the typical 'men in garages' trope. Claire L. Evans writes with a lyrical quality that you rarely see in technical histories, making the stories of Ada Lovelace and Grace Hopper feel vibrant and immediate. I particularly appreciated the deep dive into the ENIAC Six; it’s staggering how their contributions were reduced to mere clerical work in the history books. To be fair, the narrative flow does stumble slightly when transitioning from the mechanical era to the 90s web. While the early chapters are tightly paced, the later sections on social networks feel a bit more anecdotal and less structured. However, the prose remains engaging throughout. It’s a well-researched tour of internet history that successfully reclaims the narrative for the women who were there at every turning point.

As someone who spent the late 90s tinkering with HTML, reading about the transition from manual rote calculation to software engineering felt like a revelation. Evans does a wonderful job explaining how programming was initially viewed as 'women's work' because it was seen as menial, only for men to push them out once it became a high-status profession. The chapter on Brenda Laurel, the 'Combat Epistemologist,' was a standout for me. It’s a poignant reminder of the creative potential that was lost during the dot-com collapse. My only real gripe is that the book ignores much of what has happened in the last twenty years. The internet has changed so much since the early 2000s, and ending the story there feels like leaving the job half-finished. Still, the writing is evocative and the historical sections are incredibly well-researched.

Finally got around to reading this, and the chapter on Grace Hopper alone is worth the price of admission. Evans has a way of framing history that makes you realize how much has been intentionally omitted from the standard tech narrative. I loved learning about how women dominated the field of 'computing' when it was still a human-centered task involving mechanical calculators. The shift to the Silicon Valley 'bro' culture is handled with a balanced hand, avoiding histrionics while still making a clear point about how the industry has lost talent by being unwelcoming. The prose is sophisticated and the book is clearly a labor of love. It’s an essential tour of internet history for anyone who thinks the web was built solely by men in black turtlenecks.

The truth is, we’ve been fed a very male-centric version of the internet’s birth for decades. Broad Band corrects that by focusing on the social architects and the software pioneers. The section on Radia Perlman and her networking protocols was a highlight, as was the discussion of early hypertext systems like Microcosm. Evans is a journalist, and it shows in her crisp, engaging writing style. My only complaint is that she spends a bit too much time on the 'riot grrl' era of the web, which felt like a very narrow slice of the female experience online. I would have loved to see more diversity in the types of women profiled. Regardless, it’s a fascinating read that provides much-needed context for how we arrived at our current digital landscape.

While the research is undeniably thorough, the narrative felt a bit disjointed in the second half. Evans is a fantastic writer, but her presence in the book is sometimes a distraction. She frequently inserts herself into interviews, using phrasing like 'Nancy told me this' or 'I saw that,' which pulled me out of the historical moment. I would have preferred the subjects to speak for themselves without the authorial filter. Additionally, the focus seems heavily weighted toward a specific counterculture, riot grrl aesthetic. This is fine if you resonate with that vibe, but it makes the book feel like it’s only telling one specific type of story rather than a universal history of women in tech. It’s an interesting read for the hypertext and ECHO sections, but I found myself skimming the repetitive dot-com office stories toward the end.

Look, I really wanted to love this more than I did. The first half is spectacular—Evans brings the early days of computing to life with such clarity. But once the focus shifts to 90s online communities, the momentum just dies. I found the stories about various dot-com offices and cyberfeminist groups to be quite repetitive and, frankly, a bit snobbish. It felt like the author was more interested in the 'scene' than the technology or the lasting impact of these women. Each person felt discussed for just a bit too long, covering the same points about gender dynamics without moving the history forward. I think a 'highlights' version of this would have been much more effective. It’s a decent library checkout, but it’s too dry in the middle to be a five-star read for me.

Ever wonder why certain histories feel curated through a very specific political lens? This book starts strong with the pioneers like Grace Hopper, but it quickly devolves into a niche celebration of the feminist riot grrl scene. Look, I understand that the author identifies with that subculture, but it felt like she was trying to force every woman in the history of computing into that same mold. The chapter on Purple Moon was particularly frustrating. Instead of exploring how women are currently navigating the toxic culture of modern gaming or discussing the fallout of Gamergate, Evans spends pages on a company that reinforced gender stereotypes and eventually went bust. To be honest, the book gets bogged down in boring details about short-lived social ventures and cuts off abruptly at the dot-com bust. It’s a dry read that misses the mark on modern relevance.