It's one of the oldest jokes on the
Internet, endlessly forwarded from e-mailbox to e-mailbox. A software
mogul-usually Bill Gates, but sometimes another-makes a speech. "If the
automobile industry had developed like the software industry," the mogul
proclaims, "we would all be driving $25 cars that get 1,000 miles to
the gallon." To which an automobile executive retorts, "Yeah, and if
cars were like software, they would crash twice a day for no reason, and
when you called for service, they'd tell you to reinstall the engine."
The joke encapsulates one of the great puzzles of contemporary technology. In an amazingly short time, software has become critical to almost every aspect of modern life. From bank vaults to city stoplights, from telephone networks to DVD players, from automobile air bags to air traffic control systems, the world around us is regulated by code. Yet much software simply doesn't work reliably: ask anyone who has watched a computer screen flush blue, wiping out hours of effort. All too often, software engineers say, code is bloated, ugly, inefficient and poorly designed; even when programs do function correctly, users find them too hard to understand. Groaning beneath the weight of bricklike manuals, bookstore shelves across the nation testify to the perduring dysfunctionality of software.
The joke encapsulates one of the great puzzles of contemporary technology. In an amazingly short time, software has become critical to almost every aspect of modern life. From bank vaults to city stoplights, from telephone networks to DVD players, from automobile air bags to air traffic control systems, the world around us is regulated by code. Yet much software simply doesn't work reliably: ask anyone who has watched a computer screen flush blue, wiping out hours of effort. All too often, software engineers say, code is bloated, ugly, inefficient and poorly designed; even when programs do function correctly, users find them too hard to understand. Groaning beneath the weight of bricklike manuals, bookstore shelves across the nation testify to the perduring dysfunctionality of software.