Changing the work an object does

Text A: an original contemporary practice extract.

I inherited my former conductor’s score after she retired. Across its pages, firm instructions competed with faint questions in pencil. For several years, I carried it to every rehearsal. Eventually, some graphite began to rub away and the binding loosened where the book opened most often.

An archive assistant advised me to stop transporting it. I scanned every page and now conduct rehearsals from a printed copy. However, before each concert, I open the original at home. The scan records the words, but not always the pressure of a pencil line or the sequence in which one thought replaced another. The score no longer travels or stands beneath bright rehearsal lights, yet it has not become an object that I merely display. I have changed where it is useful.

Text B: an original contemporary practice extract.

A raised map had been used at the rescue training centre for nearly thirty years. During exercises, trainees traced routes across it with their fingers. Several ridges had become smooth, and two handwritten place names were becoming difficult to read.

The centre recorded the map’s measurements and produced a hard-wearing copy for daily training. The original was placed in a case in the instructors’ office. Some visitors argued that it should remain sealed there. Instead, instructors remove it four times a year, under supervision, when they revise their training exercises. The copy is clearer and stronger, but it simplifies several narrow valleys and does not include every old route label. Frequent handling now falls on the copy, while the original continues to serve as a source of information.

Both texts present a change in how an object is used.

What similarities are there in the reasons for these changes and in the compromises that follow? Support your response with evidence from both texts.