September 22, 2016 3:03 PM
RSS > Email
Newsletters delivered by email seem all the rage these days. I subscribe to only two or three. Every once in a while, the bulk mailer used by these folks gets blacklisted by some spam filtering service used by our mail server, the mail server respects the blacklist, and I don't receive my newsletter. We've whitelisted the senders of two particular newsletters, but even so I occasionally don't receive the message.
This is one reason I still love RSS. My newsreader is in control of the exchange. Once authors post their articles and updates their feeds, my newsreader can see them. I hit refresh, and the articles appear. RSS is not perfect; occasionally a blog updates its feed and I see a bunch of old articles in my reader. But I've been following some bloggers for well over a decade, and it has served us all well.
Do not expect me to hit you up for your email address anytime soon. I understand some of the reasons for going the newsletter route, but I think I'll keep publishing on my blog with a newsfeed for a while. That said, I love to hear from readers. Send me email any time, or tweet me at @wallingf.
September 18, 2016 3:49 PM
I agree with W.H. Auden:
Who on earth invented the silly convention that it is boring or impolite to talk shop? Nothing is more interesting to listen to, especially if the shop is not one's own.
My wife went on a forty-mile bike ride this morning, a fundraiser for the Cedar Valley Bicycle Collective, which visited three local farms. At those stops, I had the great fortune to listen to folks on all three farms talk shop. We learned about making ice cream and woodcarving at Three Pines Farm. We learned about selecting, growing, and picking apples -- and the damage hail and bugs can do -- at Blueridge Orchard. And the owner of the Fitkin Popcorn Farm talked about the popcorn business. He showed us the machines they use to sort the corn out of the field, first by size and then by density. He also talked about planting fields, harvesting the corn, and selling the product nationally. I even learned that we can pop the corn while it's still on the ears! (This will happen in my house very soon.)
I love to listen to people talk shop. In unguarded moments, they speak honestly about something they love and know deeply. They let us in on what it is like for them to work in their corner of the world. However big I try to make my world, there is so much more out there to learn.
The Auden passage is from his book A Certain World, a collage of poems, quotes, and short pieces from other writers with occasional comments of his own. Auden would have been an eclectic blogger! This book feels like a Tumblr blog, without all the pictures and 'likes'. Some of the passages are out of date, but they let us peak in on the mind of an accomplished poet. A little like good shop talk.
September 16, 2016 12:41 PM
We Are All Mashups
There is a scene in The Big Bang Theory where Sheldon laments that, without realizing it, he had allowed his girl/friend to alter his personality. Leonard responds, "Well, you didn't really have a 'personality'. You just had some shows you liked."
This scene came to mind when I read a passage from Kenneth Goldsmith's Uncreative Writing earlier this week:
I don't think there's a stable or essential "me". I am an amalgamation of many things: books I've read, movies I've seen, television shows I've watched, conversations I've had, songs I've sung, lovers I've loved. In fact, I'm a creation of so many people and so many ideas, to the point where I feel I've actually had few original thoughts and ideas; to think that what I consider to be "mine" was "original" would be blindingly egotistical.
It is occasionally daunting when I realize how much I am a product of the works, people, and ideas I've encountered. How can I add anything new? But when I surrender to the fact that I can't, it frees me to write and do things that I like. What I make may not be new, but it can still be useful or valuable, even if only to me.
I wonder what it's like for kids to grow up in a self-consciously mash-up culture. My daughters have grown up in a world where technology and communication have given everyone the ability to mix and modify other work so easily. It's a big part of the entertainment they consume.
Mash-up culture must feel hugely empowering in some moments and hugely terrifying in others. How can anyone find his or her own voice, or say something that matters? Maybe they have a better sense than I did growing up that nothing is really new and that what really matters is chasing your interests, exploring the new lands you enter, and sharing what you find. That's certainly been the source of my biggest accomplishments and deepest satisfactions.
(I ran across the passage from Goldsmith on Austin Kleon's blog.)
September 10, 2016 10:41 AM
Messages Rather Than Conversations
Kevin Kelly, in Amish Hackers:
One Amish-man told me that the problem with phones, pagers, and PDAs (yes he knew about them) was that "you got messages rather than conversations". That's about as an accurate summation of our times as any. Henry, his long white beard contrasting with his young bright eyes told me, "If I had a TV, I'd watch it." What could be simpler?
Unlike some younger Amish, I still do not carry a smart phone. I do own a cell but use it only when traveling. If our home phone disappeared overnight, it would likely take several days before my wife or I even noticed.
I also own a television, a now-déclassé 32" flat screen. Henry is right: having a TV, I find myself watching it on occasion. I enjoy it but have to guard vigilantly against falling into a hypnotic trance. It turns out that I form certain habits quite easily.
September 06, 2016 2:44 PM
"Inception" and the Simulation Argument
If Carroll's deconstruction of the simulation argument is right, then the more trouble we have explaining consciousness, the more that should push us to believe we're in a ground-level simulation. There's probably a higher-level version of physics in which consciousness makes sense. Our own consciousness is probably being run in a world that operates on that higher-level law. And we're stuck in a low-resolution world whose physics doesn't allow consciousness -- because if we weren't, we'd just keep recursing further until we were.
-- Scott Alexander, The View From Ground Level
In the latest installment of "You Haven't Seen That Yet?", I watched the film Inception yesterday. There was only one person watching, but still the film gets two hearty thumbs-up. All those Ellen Pages waking up, one after the other...
Over the last few years, I've heard many references to the idea from physics that we are living in a simulation, that our universe is a simulation created by beings in another universe. It seems that some physicists think and talk about this a lot, which seems odd to me. Empiricism can't help us much to unravel the problem; arguments pro and con come down to the sort of logical arguments favored by mathematicians and philosophers, abstracted away from observation of the physical world. It's a fun little puzzle, though. The computer science questions are pretty interesting, too.
Ideas like this are old hat to those of us who read a lot of science fiction growing up, in particular Philip K. Dick. Dick's stories were often predicated on suspending some fundamental attribute of reality, or our perception of it, and seeing what happened to our lives and experiences. Now that I have seen Memento (a long-time favorite of mine) and Inception, I'm pretty happy. What Philip K. Dick was with the written word to kids of my generation, Christopher Nolan is on film to a younger generation. I'm glad I've been able to experience both.
The photo above comes from Matt Goldberg's review of Inception. It shows Arthur, the character played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, battling with a "projection" in three-dimensional space that folds back on itself. Such folding is possible in dream worlds and is an important element in designing dreams that enable all the cool mind games that are central to the film.
September 03, 2016 4:49 PM
The Innate Boundary
If you love a demanding task, one that requires both discipline and talent -- shooting hoops, playing drums, writing code -- you eventually discover an innate boundary: you can apprehend real virtuosity, especially as it's used to best you, but you can't quite incorporate it. You will never be more than almost-great.
-- Tad Friend, in Squash for the Midlife Slump.
Still, you get to love. That's a good thing.
September 02, 2016 4:12 PM
Be Open to What Students Think -- For Real
On the first day of my compiler class this fall, I had my students fill out a short survey to help me set the stage for the course. After I asked them to list the the three or four programming languages they know best, I asked them:
- Based on your experience using these languages, list them in order from easiest to use to hardest to use.
- Given what you know about them, list these languages in order from easiest to compile to hardest to compile.
While they were completing the survey, one student raised his hand and asked, "When you easy or hard to compile, do you mean for the programmer or the compiler?" I laughed almost immediately.
Fortunately, I've had all these students in class before, and they know that I'm not a mean-spirited person. Even so, I just as quickly apologized for laughing and let him know that I wasn't laughing at the question so much as laughing at my own surprise: It had never occurred to me that someone might interpret the question in that way!
I realized, though, that from a student's perspective, getting a Python program to the point of runnability is a very different thing from getting, say, a Java or Ada program to the point of runnability. For a beginner, to get his or her first few Ada programs to compile is indeed a chore. I remember feeling the same way when I learned Haskell as a relatively experienced professor and programmer, many years after I had last been a student in a classroom.
This story came to mind as I read Required Reading for Math Teachers this morning. It's actually pretty good reading for teachers of any subject. Toward the end of the post, the author reminds us that it helps for teachers to be legitimately open to students' thought processes, whether or not they think what we think they should be thinking. In fact, those are precisely the moments when we want to be most open to what they are thinking. These are the moments that help us to diagnose errors in their thinking -- and in ours.
This passage resonated with my experience:
I have throughout my career been repeatedly surprised by the discovery that nearly every time a student offers an idea authentically (i.e. not as just a random guess), it makes some sort of sense. Maybe not complete sense, and maybe it's not at all where I was headed. But if I can curb my initial reaction of "this kid is totally confused" long enough to actually take in the train of thought, there is almost uniformly some worthwhile reasoning inside it. Then even if I need to say "we're going to stick to the topic", I can do so after acknowledging the reasoning.
Acknowledging students' ideas and thinking is a matter of basic respect, but it also plays a big role in the environment we create in our classes. I hope that I have been respectful and open enough with these students in the past that my question-asker could trust that I wan't mocking him and that I was genuinely surprised. We all learned something that day.
As that blog post goes on to say, we have to make sure that the questions we ask students are legitimate questions. We communicate this intention by acknowledging people when they treat our questions as legitimate. We teachers need to treat our student's questions the same way.
August 30, 2016 3:36 PM
Things People Should Know About Being a Teacher
In 7 things I wish people understood about being a teacher, Andrew Simmons captures a few of the things that make teaching so rewarding and so challenging. If you don't understand these truths, you may not understand why anyone would want to teach. You also run the risk of misunderstanding the problems with our education system and thus supporting changes that are unlikely to fix them. Check it out.
Even though Simmons writes of teaching high school, most of what he says applies just as well to university professors. I especially liked this comment, on what software developers call sustainable pace
... would-be superteachers are smart, sometimes masochistic 23-year-olds working 18-hour days to pump up test scores for a few years before moving on to administrative positions, law school, or nervous breakdowns. They embrace an unsustainable load.
I used to wonder why so many good teachers ended up leaving the classroom. One reason is burn-out. Universities burn out researchers and teachers alike by pushing them onto a treadmill, or by letting them get on and stay there of their own volition. Good teaching can happen every year, if we learn how to maintain balance.
My favorite line of the article, though, is this gem:
Everything I learn is filtered through the possibility that it might be taught.
When I read that line, I nodded my head silently. This guy really is a teacher.
August 22, 2016 4:18 PM
A New Way to Debug Our Election Systems
In The Security of Our Election Systems, Bruce Schneier says that we no longer have time to sound alarm about security flaws in our election systems and hope that government and manufacturers will take action. Instead...
We must ignore the machine manufacturers' spurious claims of security, create tiger teams to test the machines' and systems' resistance to attack, drastically increase their cyber-defenses and take them offline if we can't guarantee their security online.
How about this:
The students in my department love to compete in cyberdefense competitions (CDCs), in which they are charged with setting up various systems and then defending them against attack from experts for some period, say, twenty-four hours. Such competitions are growing in popularity across the country.
Maybe we should run a CDC with the tables turned. Manufacturers are required to set up their systems and to run the full set of services they promise when they sell the systems to government agencies. Students across the US would then be given a window of twenty-fours or more to try to crack the systems, with the manufacturers or even our election agencies trying to keep their systems up and running securely. Any vulnerabilities that the students find would be made public, enabling the manufacturers to fix them and the state agencies to create and set up new controls.
Great idea or crazy fantasy?
August 21, 2016 10:23 AM
Parnas and Software Patterns
Earlier this week, I tweeted a paraphrase of David Parnas that a few people liked:
Parnas observes: "Professional Engineers rarely use 'engineer' as a verb." And it's not because they are busy 'architecting' systems.
The paraphrase comes from Parnas's On ICSE's "Most Influential" Papers, which appears in the July 1995 issue so ACM SIGSOFT's Software Engineering Notes. He wrote that paper in conjunction with his acceptance speech on receiving the Most Influential Paper award at ICSE 17. It's a good read on how the software engineering research community's influence was, at least at that time, limited to other researchers. Parnas asserts that researchers should strive to influence practitioners, the people who are actually writing software.
Why doesn't software engineering research influence practitioners? It's simple:
Computer professionals do not read our literature because it does not help them to do their job better.
In a section called "We are talking to ourselves", Parnas explains why the software engineering literature fails to connect with people who write software:
Most of our papers are written in the tradition of science, not engineering. We write up the results of our research for readers who are also researchers, not for practitioners. We base our papers on previous work done by other researchers, and often ignore current practical problems. In many other engineering fields, the results of research are reported in "How to" papers. Our papers are "This is what I did" papers. We describe our work, how our work differs from other people's work, what we will do next, etc. This is quite appropriate for papers directed to other researchers, but it is not what is needed in papers that are intended to influence practitioners. Practitioners are far more interested in being told the basic assumptions behind the work, than in knowing how this work differs from the work by the author's cohorts in the research game.
Around the time Parnas wrote this article and gave his acceptance speech at ICSE 17, the Pattern Languages of Programs conferences were taking off, with a similar motivation: to create a literature by and for software practitioners. Patterns describe how to create programs in practical terms. They describe techniques, but also the context in which they work, the forces that make them more and less applicable, and the patterns you can use to address the issues that arise after you the technique. The community encouraged writing in a straightforward style, using the vocabulary of professional developers.
At the early PLoP conferences, you could feel the tension between practitioners and academics, some of which grew out of the academic style of writing and the traditions of the scientific literature. I had to learn a lot about how to write for an audience of software developers. Fortunately, the people in the PLoP community took the time to help me get better. I have fond memories of receiving feedback from Frank Buschman, Peter Sommerlad, Ralph Johnson, Ward Cunningham, Kyle Brown, Ken, Auer, and many others. The feedback wasn't always easy to internalize -- it's hard to change! -- but it was necessary.
I'm not sure that an appreciably larger number of academics in software engineering and computer science more broadly write for the wider community of software practitioners these days than when Parnas made his remarks. There are certainly more venues available to us from patterns-related conferences, separate tracks at conferences like SPLASH, and blogs. Unfortunately, the academic reward structure isn't always friendly to this kind of writing, especially early in one's career. Some universities have begun to open up their definition of scholarship, though, which creates new opportunities.
At their best, software patterns are exactly what Parnas calls for: creating a how-to literature aimed at practitioners. Researchers and practitioners can both participate in this endeavor.