Randy was forever telling people, without rancor, that they were full
of shit. That was the only way to get anything done in hacking. No one took
it personally.
Charlene's crowd most definitely did take it personally. It wasn't
being told that they were wrong that offended them, though. It was the
underlying assumption that a person could be right or wrong about _anything_.
So on the Night in Question the night-- of Avi's fateful call -- Randy had done
what he usually did, which was to withdraw from the conversation.
In the
Tolkien, not the endocrinological or Snow White sense, Randy is a Dwarf.
Tolkien's Dwarves were stout, taciturn, vaguely magical characters who spent
a lot of time in the dark hammering out beautiful things, e.g. Rings of
Power. Thinking of himself as a Dwarf who had hung up his war ax for a while
to go sojourning in the Shire, where he was surrounded by squabbling Hobbits
(i.e., Charlene's friends), had actually done a lot for Randy's peace of
mind over the years. He knew perfectly well that if he were stuck in
academia, these people, and the things they said, would seem momentous to
him. But where he came from, nobody had been taking these people seriously
for years. So he just withdrew from the conversation and drank his wine and
looked out over the Pacific surf and tried not to do anything really obvious
like shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
I think Sam is right and the quote (from 1999) also points to the issues. However, many comentors are pointing out that this is some 'culture war' thing that has infected SF. I think it's just a natural progression of maturing companies. They become managerial, not entrepreneurial. As such, stability is valued more than innovation, and you get a stifling environment. In essence, the Gervais principle[0] comes into effect as the 'graphite control rods' that are middle managers are lowered into place to help control the nuclear reaction that is capitalism.
Aside: It seems that HR departments (as an idea) have not been doing a good enough job a 'graphite control rod' (to help control the capitalistic reaction) in reference towards the #MeToo movement. Some better invention than an HR department is needed to prevent/control these harassments. Perhaps better surveillance/monitoring at work will help?
But you see," said Roark quietly, "I have, let’s say, sixty years to live. Most of that time will be spent working. I’ve chosen the work I want to do. If I find no joy in it, then I’m only condemning myself to sixty years of torture. And I can find the joy only if I do my work in the best way possible to me. But the best is a matter of standards—and I set my own standards. I inherit nothing. I stand at the end of no tradition. I may, perhaps, stand at the beginning of one.
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Listen to what is being preached today. Look at everyone around us. You've wondered why they suffer, why they seek happiness and never find it. If any man stopped and asked himself whether he's ever held a truly personal desire, he'd find the answer. He'd see that all his wishes, his efforts, his dreams, his ambitions are motivated by other men. He's not really struggling even for material wealth, but for the second-hander's delusion - prestige. A stamp of approval, not his own. He can find no joy in the struggle and no joy when he has succeeded. He can't say about a single thing: 'This is what I wanted because I wanted it, not because it made my neighbors gape at me'. Then he wonders why he's unhappy.
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Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision. Their goals differed, but they all had this in common: that the step was first, the road new, the vision unborrowed, and the response they received — hatred. The great creators — the thinkers, the artists, the scientists, the inventors — stood alone against the men of their time. Every great new thought was opposed. Every great new invention was denounced. The first motor was considered foolish. The airplane was considered impossible. The power loom was considered vicious. Anesthesia was considered sinful. But the men of unborrowed vision went ahead. They fought, they suffered and they paid. But they won.
Sometimes, sure. But sometimes it takes years of effort and loneliness, that is at least where the "and yet it moves" quote comes from. I my mind at least, Galilei was alone, with unpopular, dangerous views, against a huge number of people with another opinion. It is what the piece is about, it is what the Fountainhead is about.
To me, and I'm entitled to my own feeling about "E Pur Si Muove" ;), it also stands for a strong believe in one's own observations, a strong will that is not swayed by the masses and the loneliness that comes with it. The sentence "E Pur Si Muove" may provide people with the strength needed to voice their unconventional theories.
This really resonates with me. One reason I like working in software is that many of the limitations of other engineering disciplines (the strength of materials, the weight of concrete, etc) don’t limit our creations. Our limits are our own ability to manage complexity and the limits of what we can dream to do.
Me too! But more on a personal level. It was the first time I got a really good description of how thinking of yourself and taking your own interests seriously and putting them on top (of course respecting that other have that right as well) is not only ethical but can also make you and the people you love more happy. I really tended to be overly social, putting others needs over mine, and it made things very difficult in relationships. When you always do what she wants, somehow you start to resent it and then you realize it is you that should invest in finding out what you truly like. Otherwise, what is your love worth if it is not from the most selfish of reasons "I love you because I deeply want to be with you, I'm not doing it for you." To say ‘I love you’ one must first know how to say the ‘I.’
Ok, one more that is nice from our software point of view then and matches your comment:
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"Look, " said Roark. "The famous flutings on the the famous columns—what are they there for? To hide the joints in the wood—when columns were made of wood, only these aren't, they're marble. The triglyphs, what are they? Wood. Wooden beams, the way they had to be laid when people began to build wooden shacks. Your Greeks took marble and they made copies of their wooden structures out of it, because others had done it that way. Then your masters of the Renaissance came along and made copies in plaster of copies in marble of copies in wood. Now here we are, making copies in steel and concrete of copies in plaster of copies in marble of copies in wood. Why?"
In the Tolkien, not the endocrinological or Snow White sense, Randy is a Dwarf. Tolkien's Dwarves were stout, taciturn, vaguely magical characters who spent a lot of time in the dark hammering out beautiful things, e.g. Rings of Power. Thinking of himself as a Dwarf who had hung up his war ax for a while to go sojourning in the Shire, where he was surrounded by squabbling Hobbits (i.e., Charlene's friends), had actually done a lot for Randy's peace of mind over the years. He knew perfectly well that if he were stuck in academia, these people, and the things they said, would seem momentous to him. But where he came from, nobody had been taking these people seriously for years. So he just withdrew from the conversation and drank his wine and looked out over the Pacific surf and tried not to do anything really obvious like shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
-- Cryptonomicon, 1999.