Data compression is the science of shrinking. Compression makes the data that creates images, sounds, video and even text small enough to be sent through telephone wires -- the network of the Internet. Without data compression, the Web as we know it simply wouldn't exist. In "lossless" compression, used by programs such as WinZip, it's possible to shrink files to a certain size and then recover them without any degradation, or data loss. To compress, the software will pull out repeating bits of data. For example: In the sentence, "The crook took a long look at the book," every "ook" could be replaced by a "1." Basic mathematical theory, however, limits such a technique. Once you take out every repeating chunk, you wind up with a random string of data. For the past 50 years, most mathematicians have come to agree that completely random data can't be further compressed. Many people have claimed to come up with ideas that could shrink any file -- including a random string of digits -- down to a fraction of its size. In every case they've been proven wrong. The sceptic community is now after ZeoSync and St. George, calling his 12-year quest for the perfect data-shrinking machine a digital version of the Don Quixote story. Robert Bristow-Johnson, an engineer at digital audio company Wave Mechanics, is one of those critics. He recently sent a letter to the United States Patent and Trademark Office warning them about ZeoSync's claims, saying that giving the company a patent would be as foolhardy as patenting a perpetual motion machine. "Even I know better," said Bristow-Johnson. "There should be hundreds of thousands of people that know better. There should be dozens of patent examiners who should know better." St. George might be considered an unlikely candidate to discover a mathematical breakthrough. First working as a vice president for technology services at a financial services company, he shifted gears to become an entrepreneur. He served as chief executive of three separate but now-defunct companies before starting ZeoSync in 1999. On his resume, St. George also says he's served as a "bandwidth delivery solutions consultant" to second- and third-world countries. Despite his pedigree, the entrepreneur said the main problem is critics don't truly understand what he's working on. The chief executive says he's simply discovered a different way of compressing data, calling it "compacting" or "filtering." Where other methods chop off a string of binary digits representing a picture or song or text, he looks at the entire string as one huge number. This number can then be represented as a separate mathematical expression, he said. Since typical digital files are represented by hundreds of thousands of zeros and ones, St. George said that crunching numbers using his method requires substantial computing power. For now, ZeoSync's shoestring budget has meant testing on computers using old Pentium II chips -- although partners may help pitch in for more powerful computers down the line. At the time of the company's first press release, it took more than a day to squash a random 128-bit file -- about 16 letters in ASCII, the alphabet most computers use -- into just 100 bits. It's not a product yet, St. George insists. But the fact that the "compacting" can be done at all means ZeoSync has made a theoretical breakthrough, he said. Question marks
Sceptics simply want proof of the breakthrough. St. George said the company is close to making deals with Intel and other chipmakers for testing on state-of-the-art machines. Intel would not independently confirm its participation. In the absence of technical proof, critics have taken a hard look at the company, which is in the process of trying to raise $40m in a private stock offering. Some non-technical questions about the company have emerged. Early on, the company provided a long list of distinguished scientists whom it said had served as technical advisors or consultants on the project. A few weeks later, this list was chopped to a third of its size. Several of the professors on the original list contacted by telephone or email now say they had little or nothing to do with the company. "I had never even heard of them before they made the announcement," said Professor Richard Stanley of the University of Washington, one of the people dropped from ZeoSync's list of advisors. "I'd never talked to them. I just assumed it was some kind of hoax or scam or something." St. George said the original list included clerical errors, and some names of people with whom the company was in contract negotiations. He is issuing a personal apology for the mistakes, he said. According to the company's financial prospectus, ZeoSync also is involved in a lawsuit with an early investor, a company called First Frontier Capital. ZeoSync has said it will return more than $2m in early funding. In addition, the company said it plans to file suit against the venture capital firm and an Indian software company over trade secret issues. Skceptics expect that St. George and his company will fade into history along with other seekers of the impossible. He'd like to prove them wrong. "I don't blame people," St. George said. "The day the Wright Brothers flew, there was a group of scientists nearby saying in concert that man couldn't fly. It's human nature to describe the world in terms of lack, in terms of what we can't do."





