by
Peter Seibel
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Deutsch: You'd have to start over. You'd have to throw out all languages that have the concept of a pointer to begin with because there is no such thing as a pointer in the real world. You'd have to come to grips with the fact that information takes space and exists over time and is located at a particular place.
idea: Type of Guy who hates pointers and believes they need to be eradicated
Seibel: I think Larry Wall described it as a bowl of oatmeal with fingernail clippings in it.
Deutsch: Well, my description of Perl is something that looks like it came out of the wrong end of a dog. I think Larry Wall has a lot of nerve talking about language design—Perl is an abomination as a language. But let's not go there.
lol
I went to this museum, and it's in this long hall of high-ceilinged old salons. And it starts with, I don't know whether they're Neolithic, but very old musical instruments, and it progresses through. Of course, most of their musical instruments are from the last couple of centuries in Western Europe. I didn't actually make it all the way through; I was like one or two salons from the end and I was standing there and here was a piano that had belonged to Leopold Mozart. And the piano that Brahms used for practicing. And the piano that Haydn had in his house.
And I had this little epiphany that the reason that I was having trouble finding another software project to get excited about was not that I was having trouble finding a project. It was that I wasn't excited about software anymore. As crazy as it may seem now, a lot of my motivation for going into software in the first place was that I thought you could actually make the world a better place by doing it. I don't believe that anymore. Not really. Not in the same way.
This little lightning flash happened and all of a sudden I had the feeling that the way—well, not the way to change the world for the better, but the way to contribute something to the world that might last more than a few years was to do music. That was the moment when I decided that I was going to take a deep breath and walk away from what I'd been doing for 50 years.
Seibel: You said before that you thought you could make the world a better place with software. How did you think that was going to happen?
Deutsch: Part of it had nothing to do with software per se; it's just that seeing anything around me that's being done badly has always offended me mightily, so I thought I could do better. That's the way kids think. It all seems rather dreamlike now.
Certainly at the time that I started programming, and even up into the 1980s, computer technology was really associated with the corporate world. And my personal politics were quite anticorporate. The kind of computing that I've always worked on has been what today we would call personal computing, interactive computing. I think part of my motivation was the thought that if you could get computer power into the hands of a lot of people, that it might provide some counterweight to corporate power.
I never in my wildest dreams would have predicted the evolution of the Internet. And I never would've predicted the degree to which corporate influence over the Internet has changed its character over time. I would've thought that the Internet was inherently uncontrollable, and I no longer think that. China shows that you can do it pretty effectively.
And I think there's a good chance that if Microsoft plays its cards right, they will have a lock on the Internet. I'm sure they would love to, but I think they might be smart enough to see the path from where they are to having what effectively is control of essentially all the software that gets used on the Internet.
So I'm not really much of an optimist about the future of computing. To be perfectly honest, that's one of the reasons why it wasn't hard for me to get out. I mean, I saw a world that was completely dominated by an unethical monopolist, and I didn't see much of a place for me in it.
<3
Thompson: No. I think it's mostly because the machines have gotten a lot better. Compilers stink. You look at the code coming out of GCC and it's awful. It's really not good. And it's slow; oh, man. I mean, the compiler itself is over 20 passes. It's just monstrously slow, but computers have gotten 1,000 times faster since GCC came out. So it may seem like it's getting faster because it's not getting slower as much as computers are getting faster underneath it.
type of guy who believes modern compilers need to be rewritten from scratch cus the fact that computers have gotten faster is not an excuse for imperfection and inefficiency
[...] the other guy was programming the way he had wanted to program but with a different spin. So he saw what happens when one very intense, very good programmer doesn't segment it down. You get one very long program—it's not that the program was spaghetti code but there were just so many levels of complexity in this one linear suite. He almost pissed me off because, as I say, he went over my head to demand that the department had to have standards to not allow that thing to happen.
Seibel: Not realizing that his own previous code would've probably fallen afoul of the same standards?
Cosell: No. He got that. He was a convert. It's sort of like the guys who give up smoking and are the most pains in the butt about other people still smoking. He became one of the strongest guys on my project. He used to nag me when I wasn't careful enough—when I compromised. My project was the first project of its type he had ever worked on. Communications, real time, all this stuff—all new to him. But he was a smart guy and he went through this little epiphany and came out of it the programmer I always thought he was going to be. Last I heard, he was doing wonderfully. With him it worked out. Other people didn't like working with me because they found me too overbearing; I can't imagine why.
I don't know why I had those two convictions. I arrived at BBN with no skill per se, but I had those principles in the back of my head for some reason. I thought I ought to be able to understand anything and it shouldn't be so hard. I found that even for the time-sharing system and the IMPs—for all of those class of programs, that proved to be true. In general once I had the right understanding of what a program was supposed to do, the pieces would fall into place. The pieces that didn't belong would stand out like a miscolored piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
Another principle was I always wanted clean listings. I wanted the thing to be just right. When you have to fix a bug in a program you never, ever fix the bug in the place where you find it. My rule is, “If you knew then what you know now about the fact that this piece of code is broken, how would you have organized this piece of the routine?” What were you thinking about wrong before? Fix the code so that can't happen. When you finish with a routine I want every routine you work on to look as if it was just written. I do not want to see any evidence of afterthoughts or things gone wrong followed by something to correct the error or a mysterious piece of code saying, “This routine returns the wrong value every now and then so I've got to fix it.” I don't want to see any of that. I want to see code that looks like through some divine inspiration you got it exactly right the first time.
The problem is that coding isn't fun if all you can do is call things out of a library, if you can't write the library yourself. If the job of coding is just to be finding the right combination of parameters, that does fairly obvious things, then who'd want to go into that as a career?
There's this overemphasis on reusable software where you never get to open up the box and see what's inside the box. It's nice to have these black boxes but, almost always, if you can look inside the box you can improve it and make it work better once you know what's inside the box. Instead people make these closed wrappers around everything and present the closure to the programmers of the world, and the programmers of the world aren't allowed to diddle with that. All they're able to do is assemble the parts. And so you remember that when you call this subroutine you put x0, y0, x1, y1 but when you call this subroutine it's x0, x1, y0, y1. You get that right, and that's your job.
or like using copilot lol
By class I understand a historical phenomenon, unifying a number of disparate and seemingly unconnected events, both in the raw material of experience and in consciousness. I emphasize that it is a historical phenomenon. I do not see class as a ‘structure’, nor even as a ‘category’, but as something which in fact happens (and can be shown to have happened) in human relationships.
More than this, the notion of class entails the notion of historical relationship. Like any other relationship, it is a fluency which evades analysis if we attempt to stop it dead at any given moment and anatomize its structure. The finest-meshed sociological net cannot give us a pure specimen of class, any more than it can give us one of deference or of love. The relationship must always be embodied in real people and in a real context. Moreover, we cannot have two distinct classes, each with an independent being, and then bring them into relationship with each other. We cannot have love without lovers, nor deference without squires and labourers. And class happens when some men, as a result of common experiences (inherited or shared), feel and articulate the identity of their interests as between themselves, and as against other men whose interests are different from (and usually opposed to) theirs. The class experience is largely determined by the productive relations into which men are born – or enter involuntarily. Class-consciousness is the way in which these experiences are handled in cultural terms: embodied in traditions, value-systems, ideas, and institutional forms. If the experience appears as determined, class-consciousness does not. We can see a logic in the responses of similar occupational groups undergoing similar experiences, but we cannot predicate any law. Consciousness of class arises in the same way in different times and places, but never in just the same way.
The question, of course, is how the individual got to be in this ‘social rôle’, and how the particular social organization (with its property-rights and structure of authority) got to be there. And these are historical questions. If we stop history at a given point, then there are no classes but simply a multitude of individuals with a multitude of experiences. But if we watch these men over an adequate period of social change, we observe patterns in their relationships, their ideas, and their institutions. Class is defined by men as they live their own history, and, in the end, this is its only definition.