So, media is about to get all digital on us, and one of the things I’ve been hearing is how that’s all about packing innovative content into a condensed time package. After everyone’s watched the first three seconds of that dog wearing a Darth Vader helmet, odds are they’ll want to skip to a toddler sitting on the back of an alligator. We’re busy people: no time for engagement, we want novelty and we want it now.

All very well, but one of the biggest hits on YouTube at the moment - six million viewings and rising - is a 75 minute monologue by a man who does nothing more visually exciting than a few press-ups. Admittedly I’d be pushed to replicate his feat, but I wasn’t watching out of envy. No, I was watching Randy Pausch because he was sharing the lessons he’d learned from life. A life that he knew would soon be ending.

Believe me, I’m in no way maudlin. Not big on sentimentality at all. And neither is Randy: his talk, to a packed auditorium at the university where he’d been doing work on virtual reality for some years, was entirely free of bogus emotion. Instead, this was a clear and inspirational reflection by Randy on how he’d made his childhood dreams come true, and what he’d done since then to inspire others to do the same. But don’t take my word for it: here, go and watch -

Randy Pausch video

I’m assuming you’ve found time to watch Randy’s speech. And I want to use it as the springboard to ask what you can imagine yourself watching in ten years time, when - as all the pundits are telling us - there will be a convergence of technologies in the box with the screen in your living room. Television and computer will become one, and you’ll be able to call up any images you choose to watch.

Conventional channels will still be there in some form, or at any rate the BBC will be since its revenues are assured as long as licensing remains its rource of funding. Plus, the BBC has some of the world’s best archive material, that it’s already letting us peek at and which will go on to be a key source of audiences, and perhaps income, in the future. (Only, let’s do the decent thing, which hasn’t been much in evidence so far, and pay the creators of shows a decent repeat fee for material that’s still in demand.)

Imagine then: whatever you want to see in your living room, you can. The question becomes, are you willing to change your viewing habits to encompass experiences like Randy Pausch, or will it essentially be business as usual for you? If all you want to watch is the shows you already like, they’ll be there. And you’ll be able - as is already the case - to download films and sports events. But what else? Basically, whatever you’re into, you’ll have access to. The questions are how you get to find out about it, and who pays for it.

And how does all this affect writers? Bottom line is that we’re content providers. And as the range of niche markets for writing skills increases, so does the possibility of finding work. It won’t always pay as well as some of the gigs we’re used to, that’s for sure. But for an enterprising writer with the ability to generate concepts, work in a team, and network, there’ll be a growing market for the things we can do.

I’m starting to explore the possibilities of the digital world myself: over the weekend I put forward a proposal to make some specialist learning materials available digitally. And I just bought a DVD and CD set as the result of an expertly conducted teleseminar at the weekend: hundreds of people in 25 countries listening in on phone and via computer to someone give a content-rich talk for nearly two hours linked to the package that they’re promoting. Not only that, but there’s an opportunity for ongoing online contact with the package’s author for continued tuition. It’s an impressive model, and just one example of the shape of things to come.