In the year 2000, a 105-year-old woman in Oslo received a formal letter offering her a place in kindergarten. The Norwegian citizen registry stored only the last two digits of her birth year, so the computer read 95 and assumed 1995. That same shortcut had spent the previous months driving people to hoard gold, canned food, and generators. This episode traces the Y2K problem back to its origin in the 1960s and 1970s, when a single kilobyte of memory could cost over $100, punched cards had exactly 80 columns, and dropping the 19 from every date was applauded by management.

From there the story splits in two. On one side were survivalists, church flea markets selling wood-burning stoves, and preachers like Jerry Falwell framing the bug as prophecy. On the other was a quiet global audit costing an estimated $300 billion, carried out through date expansion, date windowing, and compliance certificates demanded up and down the supply chain. The glitches that did slip through show the flaw was real, and the backup systems built for it mattered again after September 11th. The year 2038 problem suggests the lesson never fully landed.

• Programmer Bob Bemer spotted the two-digit flaw in 1958 while working on genealogical software and spent 20 years warning IBM, the US government, and standards groups, who ignored him.
• Alan Greenspan said in 1998 that he and other 1960s programmers were proud of squeezing space out of their programs by dropping the 19.
• After midnight, radiation monitoring equipment failed at Japan’s Shika nuclear plant, over 900 South Korean apartments lost heating, and a video store billed a customer about 8 million won for a tape it judged 100 years overdue.
• The Deutsche Oper Berlin payroll system calculated employees’ children as having negative ages and withheld their childcare subsidies.
• On January 19, 2038, at 03:14:07 UTC, 32-bit systems counting seconds since January 1st, 1970 will roll over and think it is December 1901.