High-tech help from a low-tech guy

By Mark Feeney, Globe Staff | August 6, 2005

HULL -- The Shurgard guy may still be in shock.

Shurgard, the self-storage company, is a contributor in kind to the World Computer Exchange, a Hull-based nonprofit organization that takes used computer equipment and sends it to schools in developing countries. Since 2001, WCE has shipped 14,000 discarded computers to schools in some 30 countries.

Earlier this year, Tim Anderson, WCE's founder and president, was in Columbia, Md., overseeing a donation. ''Some student volunteers had gathered up, oh, 140 computer sets, something like that, and brought them to the Shurgard facility," Anderson recalls. ''The guy there was just shaking his head. 'They had them duct-taped to the roof of the car!' "

Duct tape and computers: That's WCE, a singular blend of global vision and no-frills execution. It's hard to imagine an organization that's so thoroughly high tech in content and so cheerfully low tech in form. Dedicated to bridging the digital divide, WCE has itself firmly planted on both sides.

''We try to do the organization as virtually as possible," says Anderson, 54, WCE's sole full-time employee.

It may have 450 volunteers in nearly 50 countries and partner with such blue-chip institutions as UNESCO, the US Agency for International Development, and the World Economic Forum. But none of those organizations is as important to the execution of WCE's mission as Anderson's garage and basement are.

That's where all Boston-area equipment goes on its way to being shipped overseas. (Besides Boston, WCE also ships from Portland, Ore.; Baltimore; New York; and, via the St. Lawrence Seaway, Minneapolis.)

What Anderson's basement and garage lack in grandeur they more than make up for in utility. They're crammed full of discarded computers, printers, monitors, keyboards, cables, even the occasional digital camera or scanner. Anderson's salary last year was $83,000. Presumably he's paid by the square inch.

''There's loose equipment. There's piled equipment. And there's palettes," Anderson says with satisfaction. ''The garage can take six palettes." He ought to know. A few years ago he had the roof of the garage raised to match the size of a standard shipping container, which holds 430 computers.

''I always wonder what his neighbors think," laughs Steve Sena, a WCE volunteer. ''At first, I was very surprised how it all worked -- that it even worked. Somehow it all came together. The doors close on the container. It gets shipped across the world. Somehow it gets through customs, and onto a truck to some rural area or village. It's quite a feat."

A paradox of the digital age is that the more we depend on computers the more disposable they become. ''Upgrade" is a nicer way of saying, ''Honey, what do we do with the old one?"

''We say 10,000 computers a week are coming out of service," says Christine Beling, e-cycling program coordinator for the Environmental Protection Agency's New England office. ''It's the fastest-growing waste stream in the country."

Economics and emotion further complicate disposal. Prices come down even as computing power goes up, which means that, unlike a car, a computer has little or no resale value. It does, however, often have sentimental value. What other machine so intimately enters into our daily lives? For many, home is where the hard drive is. People get so attached to their machines they hate to throw them out.

This is where WCE comes in. High-tech equipment that even the most casual computer owner in the United States might disdain as outmoded, a computer user in the developing world might still very much welcome.

Individuals can drop off their computers at Anderson's house or a site in Chinatown. Once the computer makes it to Hull, ''It'll get tested and put on a palette, then put on a truck and taken to a warehouse in Randolph," Anderson says. ''Three or four weeks later it'll be into a container bound for Nigeria or Senegal or Macedonia or Moldova -- those are the next four destinations."

WCE will pick up donations of eight computers or more. In fact, Anderson estimates that just 20 percent of donations come from individuals. Half come from corporations, and the rest from government, universities, and other nonprofit organizations.

Mount Ida College, in Newton, requests two or three pickups annually, says Don Burrhus, the school's director of network services. ''There are organizations I can pay to have the machines disposed of," he notes. ''But WCE will take them for free and see that they get a whole new life. That appeals to me."

Burrhus adds that Anderson's hands-on approach is another reason he likes WCE. ''Tim has come out personally almost every time for pickup. He's quite a character. Of course, you'd have to be, wouldn't you?"

Anderson's resume describes him as a ''serial social entrepreneur." ''I like starting things and I like the complexity of trying to achieve lift-off for something that's fairly heavy and wants to stay on the ground."

''I don't know how he does it. I don't know how he keeps the whole thing running," Sena says of Anderson. ''There's a lot of energy. He's very calm in situations where I'm just not. It's a great combination -- and I think it's totally necessary. He's very methodical."

Anderson, who has a wife and two sons, grew up outside Chicago and came east to go to Boston College. Elected student body president, he put his political talents to use in the real world. He worked for US Representative Thomas P. O'Neill Jr., then served as a field coordinator in Senator Edward M. Kennedy's 1974 reelection and Jimmy Carter's 1976 presidential campaign.

After five years as executive director of the Boston Zoological Society, Anderson worked for the National Alliance of Business, then worked as a consultant with a nonprofit. He also founded one of the state's first charter schools, South Shore Charter School, now in Norwell, and earned a master's degree at Harvard's John F. Kennedy School of Government.

WCE had its genesis at the Kennedy School. Anderson noticed that about half his classmates were from developing countries. Because of his charter school experience, he found himself thinking about what could best aid education in those countries. ''Well, the one tool that would make a difference would be a computer," Anderson says. ''Everyone I mentioned that to said, 'Oh, the economics of it makes no sense.' That made it all the more interesting. Why is everyone saying no to this? After about three months I wrote up a business plan." That was five years ago.

While proud of WCE's success, Anderson still sees it having a long way to go. ''It's a very big world," he says, ''and there's an enormous amount of supply and an enormous amount of demand."

Getting computers isn't a problem, nor is finding recipients. Storing them is. Anderson can't raise that garage roof again, and his basement ceiling isn't getting any higher.

''The hope would be somebody who has storage in the city of Boston would be willing to let us have it at a very reduced rate or free," he says. ''We have that in some cities; we don't have it in Boston."

For now, though, Anderson's managing. ''I'm just a tool," he says with a grin: ''Get the computers and get them out of here."

Mark Feeney can be reached at mfeeney@globe.com.