程序员阿士顿的故事
前幾天有人在 Stack Exchange 上提了一個(gè)問(wèn)題 How can a new programmer impress the software engineer (boss)?（作為新手程序員如何給軟件工程師出身的老板留下好印象？），Joel Spolsky（Joel on Software 的主人，《軟件隨想錄》的作者） 看到了這個(gè)問(wèn)題，他沒(méi)有正面回答，而是在下面講了悲催的程序員阿士頓的故事。
正文：
我告訴過(guò)你有關(guān)阿士頓的事情嗎？
阿士頓是一個(gè)典型的吃玉米長(zhǎng)大的農(nóng)場(chǎng)男孩，他的父母曾經(jīng)是嬉皮士，從來(lái)沒(méi)有真正地同心協(xié)力過(guò)，直到有一天他的媽媽繼承了密歇根農(nóng)村的15畝地。然后他全家搬到了那里，買(mǎi)了一對(duì)奶山羊，靠在農(nóng)貿(mào)市場(chǎng)把有機(jī)山羊奶酪賣(mài)給雅皮士們謀生。
那個(gè)時(shí)候阿士頓才10歲，他需要每天早晨4點(diǎn)起床給那些該死的山羊擠奶，這活非常累。阿士頓很喜歡上學(xué)，因?yàn)樯蠈W(xué)就意味著不需要跪在羊糞里工作了。整個(gè)高 中他都異常努力，希望可以拿到一所名牌大學(xué)的獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金，然后他就可以離開(kāi)農(nóng)場(chǎng)了。在大學(xué)里，他發(fā)現(xiàn)大學(xué)生活比農(nóng)場(chǎng)的生活輕松多了，所以搞不明白為什么每個(gè)人 不能像他那樣每科都拿到A。他選擇了軟件工程作為自己的專(zhuān)業(yè)，因?yàn)樗钚乓粋€(gè)工程師絕對(duì)不需要早晨4點(diǎn)就起床。
阿士頓就這樣從學(xué)校畢業(yè)了，他對(duì)軟件產(chǎn)業(yè)并沒(méi)有很多了解，所以他去了招聘會(huì)，申請(qǐng)了3份工作，并且都拿到了 offer 。然后他挑了一個(gè)給錢(qián)最多的offer：年薪高達(dá) 32,000美元，這是一家位于密歇根西南部的大家具公司，為全世界的企業(yè)生產(chǎn)辦公小隔間（cubicle farm）。入職之后，因?yàn)榘⑹款D再也不想回到農(nóng)場(chǎng)了，所以他決定給他的老板查理謝爾曼留下一個(gè)好印象。
“這個(gè)可不簡(jiǎn)單”，坐在他隔壁的同事杰夫說(shuō)：“她在這里也算是個(gè)傳奇人物了?！?/p>
“你的意思是？” 他說(shuō)。
“嗯，你還記得幾年前嗎？那個(gè)時(shí)候到處都是關(guān)于千年蟲(chóng)的話題。”
阿士頓可能是太年輕了。“千年蟲(chóng)？”
“是這樣的，沒(méi)有人預(yù)料到在60年代寫(xiě)的程序在2000年還會(huì)繼續(xù)運(yùn)行，所以當(dāng)時(shí)給年份只留了2個(gè)數(shù)字的存儲(chǔ)空間，也就是說(shuō) 1999 被存儲(chǔ)為 99 。所以當(dāng) 2000 年到來(lái)的時(shí)候，計(jì)算機(jī)系統(tǒng)就會(huì)崩潰，因?yàn)樗鼤?huì)試圖將 100 存儲(chǔ)成2個(gè)數(shù)字。”
“真的？我還以為那只是個(gè)傳說(shuō)，” 阿士頓說(shuō)。
“世界上所有其它的公司都沒(méi)有發(fā)生什么事故，” 杰夫說(shuō)?！耙?yàn)樗鼈兓藬?shù)十億美元去檢查每一行代碼。但是在我們公司，當(dāng)然了，因?yàn)樗麄兪枪纺镳B(yǎng)的混蛋，所以他們不愿意做任何測(cè)試。”
“完全沒(méi)有做嗎？”
“幾乎沒(méi)有。零測(cè)試。所以你瞧，當(dāng)人們?cè)?000年1月2號(hào)開(kāi)始工作的時(shí)候，發(fā)現(xiàn)所有東西都不能工作了。他們不能打印生產(chǎn)計(jì)劃，甚至不能打開(kāi)半個(gè)裝配生產(chǎn)線。沒(méi)有人知道如何進(jìn)行工作，工廠差不多停滯了?！?/p>
“你在開(kāi)玩笑?！?阿士頓說(shuō)。
“絕對(duì)沒(méi)有。工廠整個(gè)都停止運(yùn)轉(zhuǎn)了。這個(gè)時(shí)候查理出現(xiàn)了。她那個(gè)時(shí)候還是個(gè)新人，曾經(jīng)在微軟，可能是NASA，也可能是其它機(jī)構(gòu)工作過(guò)……沒(méi)有人清楚為什么像她那樣的牛人會(huì)到我們這種地方工作。然而她坐了下來(lái)，然后開(kāi)始寫(xiě)代碼。然后寫(xiě)代碼。繼續(xù)寫(xiě)代碼。
查理整整寫(xiě)了九天代碼，這九天她沒(méi)有睡覺(jué)，沒(méi)有吃東西，有些人說(shuō)她甚至沒(méi)有去過(guò)洗手間。她檢查了一個(gè)又一個(gè)系統(tǒng)并且逐個(gè)修復(fù)了它們。那真是一件壯觀 的事情，老天，那些需要被修復(fù)的可是 COBOL（一種非常古老的編程語(yǔ)言）系統(tǒng)。在整個(gè)工廠處于停滯狀態(tài)的時(shí)候，查理派人去大學(xué)圖書(shū)館找來(lái)了古老的 COBOL 手冊(cè)。裝配線上的工人站著直哆嗦，因?yàn)檫B恒溫器也有千年蟲(chóng)問(wèn)題。而查理則一杯接一杯地喝咖啡，像一個(gè)瘋婆子一樣不斷敲擊鍵盤(pán)?！?/p>
“哇。她沒(méi)有去過(guò)洗手間？”
“呃，那個(gè)部分可能有稍微那么一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)的夸張成分，但是她的確連續(xù)9天工作24小時(shí)?？傊?#xff0c;在1月11號(hào)的時(shí)候， 就在開(kāi)工前一天的5分鐘，她走出了她的隔間，來(lái)到了打印機(jī)面前，按下了一個(gè)按鈕，然后，奇跡出現(xiàn)了！生產(chǎn)計(jì)劃打印出來(lái)了，團(tuán)隊(duì)計(jì)劃也打印出來(lái)了。一切都是 完美的，經(jīng)過(guò)了完美的格式化，使用了一個(gè)稍微較小的字體把 ‘2000’放到了原來(lái)寫(xiě)‘99’的地方，她甚至還寫(xiě)了一個(gè)新的優(yōu)先級(jí)優(yōu)化系統(tǒng)，可以幫助工人在不得罪那么多客戶的情況下趕上過(guò)去9天的生產(chǎn)進(jìn)度。所有的 裝配線都開(kāi)始工作，好像從來(lái)沒(méi)有出現(xiàn)過(guò)錯(cuò)誤一樣，供暖也恢復(fù)了，打印出來(lái)的發(fā)票的年份由‘19100’變成了‘2000′。而且，之后誰(shuí)也沒(méi)有找到過(guò)一個(gè) bug.”
“得了吧！” 阿士頓說(shuō)?！罢l(shuí)也寫(xiě)不出沒(méi)有bug的代碼?！?/p>
“她做到了。我親眼看到的。這是他們第一天無(wú)間斷地生產(chǎn)了相當(dāng)于以往兩天生產(chǎn)的小隔間?！?/p>
阿士頓目瞪口呆?！斑@簡(jiǎn)直是史詩(shī)阿。我怎么才能做到那樣？”
“你做不到，伙計(jì)，沒(méi)人能做到” 杰夫邊說(shuō)邊回到了自己的電腦前面，繼續(xù)玩已經(jīng)玩了4個(gè)多月的斯波克和蝙蝠俠之間的在線戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)游戲。
阿士頓不是一個(gè)輕言放棄的人，他發(fā)誓某一天他也會(huì)做一些富有傳奇色彩的事情。但現(xiàn)實(shí)情況是，再也沒(méi)有出現(xiàn)另外一個(gè)千年蟲(chóng)問(wèn)題。而且在密歇根的那個(gè)地 方，沒(méi)有人可以提供一丁點(diǎn)兒關(guān)于如何寫(xiě)好程序的信息。事實(shí)上幾乎沒(méi)有什么事情需要程序員去做。分配給阿士頓去做的都是一些無(wú)聊的小項(xiàng)目……有一次他花了三 個(gè)星期來(lái)處理這樣一個(gè)事情：由于兩個(gè)不同的銷(xiāo)售稅區(qū)域使用了相同郵政編碼，導(dǎo)致在某個(gè)縣的銷(xiāo)售稅是錯(cuò)誤的。有趣的是，這個(gè)縣位于紐約一個(gè)人煙稀少的地方， 那里沒(méi)有人買(mǎi)過(guò)辦公小隔間，公司在那里也從來(lái)沒(méi)有一個(gè)客戶，所以他寫(xiě)的代碼永遠(yuǎn)都不會(huì)運(yùn)行。
日子就這樣過(guò)去了。
兩年來(lái)阿士頓一直帶著熱情和興奮投入工作，迫不及待地想有所作為，想做一些了不起的事情。與此同時(shí)，他的同事卻在上網(wǎng)沖浪，給朋友發(fā)短信，連續(xù)幾個(gè)小時(shí)地玩電腦紙牌。
坐在他旁邊的那個(gè)同事杰夫，只有一個(gè)工作內(nèi)容：每周更新一個(gè)“顯示本周有多少人在工作中受傷”的 Excel 電子表格。從來(lái)沒(méi)有人受過(guò)傷。每周杰夫都打開(kāi)那個(gè)電子表格，然后移動(dòng)到頁(yè)面的底部，在那里輸入日期和一個(gè)數(shù)字0，點(diǎn)擊保存，然后就完成了工作。
阿士頓甚至幫杰夫?qū)懥艘粋€(gè)宏來(lái)自動(dòng)化他的工作。杰夫不想被逮到，所以他拒絕安裝這個(gè)宏。從那之后他們的關(guān)系就變僵了，真是尷尬。
在阿士頓工作兩周年的那天早晨，他和以往一樣開(kāi)車(chē)去工作，然后忽然意識(shí)到了一些事情。
他寫(xiě)過(guò)的任何一行代碼都沒(méi)有運(yùn)行過(guò)。
過(guò)去兩年內(nèi)他做的任何一件事情都沒(méi)有對(duì)世界產(chǎn)生過(guò)什么影響。
而且在密歇根州的這個(gè)地方氣溫他媽的有24度，天空是灰色的，彌漫著臭味。他開(kāi)的本田車(chē)也是一坨垃圾，在這個(gè)小鎮(zhèn)上他沒(méi)有任何朋友，他自己也什么都不是。
當(dāng)他開(kāi)車(chē)到林肯大街的時(shí)候，他看到了左邊他所在的那個(gè)家具公司。在公司園區(qū)前面飄揚(yáng)著三面旗幟：美國(guó)國(guó)旗，偉大的密歇根州的州旗以及一面有公司標(biāo)識(shí) 的紅白相間的旗幟。他開(kāi)車(chē)進(jìn)入了轉(zhuǎn)彎車(chē)道等待左轉(zhuǎn)，他的前面有一長(zhǎng)排車(chē)，在高峰期的時(shí)候需要等四到五個(gè)紅綠燈才可以左轉(zhuǎn)，所以阿士頓有足夠的時(shí)間來(lái)回想他 寫(xiě)過(guò)的代碼有沒(méi)有哪怕一行是被別人使用過(guò)的。
沒(méi)有。他怔怔地留下了眼淚。
然后他沒(méi)有左轉(zhuǎn)，直接往前開(kāi)了出去，這差點(diǎn)釀成了一起。阿士頓忘記了路口亮起綠燈的是左轉(zhuǎn)信號(hào)燈，而左轉(zhuǎn)信號(hào)燈就意味著你只能左轉(zhuǎn)，不能直接往前開(kāi)。
他沿著林肯大道開(kāi)了下去，然后上了高速公路，他只是不停地往前開(kāi)，一直來(lái)到了機(jī)場(chǎng)。他把他的垃圾本田扔在了航站樓的前面，心里非常清楚它會(huì)被拖走。 他甚至沒(méi)有去關(guān)車(chē)門(mén)就徑直走到了柜臺(tái)前面買(mǎi)了下一趟飛往舊金山的航班的機(jī)票，20分鐘內(nèi)起飛。然后他上了飛機(jī)，永遠(yuǎn)地離開(kāi)了密歇根。
英文原文：
Did I ever tell you about Ashton?
Ashton was your classic corn-fed farm boy. His parents had been hippies who never really managed to get their acts together until his mother inherited 15 acres in a rural part of Michigan. The family moved out there, bought a couple of dairy goats, and struggled to make a living selling organic goat cheese to the yuppies at the Ann Arbor Farmer’s Market.
From the time he was ten years old, Ashton had to wake up every morning at 4:00 a.m. and milk those damn goats, and it was exhausting. Ashton loved going to school because it meant he wasn’t working knee-deep in goat poop. Throughout high school, he studied his ass off, hoping that a scholarship to a good university would be his ticket out of the farm. He found college to be so much easier than farm life that he didn’t understand why everyone else didn’t get straight A’s like him. He majored in Software Engineering because he couldn’t imagine engineers ever being required to wake up at 4:00 a.m.
Ashton graduated from school without knowing much about the software industry, really, so he went to the career fair, applied for three jobs, got accepted by all three, and picked the one that paid the most: something insane like $32,000 a year, working at a big furniture company in the southwestern part of the state that manufactured cubicle farms for corporations all over the world. He never wanted to see a farm again, so he was determined to make a good impression on his boss, Charlie Sherman.
“That’s not going to be easy,” his cubicle-mate, Jeff, said. “She’s something of a legend here.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, you remember a few years ago, when there was all that uproar about Y2K?”
Ashton was probably too young. “Y2K?”
“You know, nobody expected that all the old computer programs written in the 1960s would still be running in 2000, so they only had room for two digits for the year. Instead of storing 1999, they would store 99. And then when the year flipped over on January 1st, 2000, the computer systems crashed, because they tried to fit “100” in two digits.
“Really? I thought that was a myth,” Ashton said.
“At every other company in the world, nothing happened,” Jeff said. “They spent billions of dollars checking every line of code. But here, of course, they’re cheap bastards, so they didn’t bother doing any testing.”
“Not at all?”
“Zilch. Zero testing. Nada. And lo and behold, when people staggered back into work on January 2nd, not a single thing worked. They couldn’t print production schedules. They couldn’t get half of the assembly lines to even turn on. And nobody knew what shifts they were supposed to be working. The factory literally came to a standstill.”
“You’re kidding,” Ashton said.
“I shit you not. The factory was totally silent. Now, Charlie, she was new then. She had been working at Microsoft, or NASA, or something… nobody could figure out why someone like her would be working in our little armpit of a company. But she sat down, and she started coding. And coding. And coding.
“Charlie coded for nine days straight. Nine days without sleeping, without eating, some people even claimed she never went to the bathroom. She went from system to system and literally fixed all of them. It was something to behold. My God, there were COBOL systems in there that needed to be fixed. The whole factory at a standstill, and Charlie is sending people to the university library in Ann Arbor to find old COBOL manuals. Assembly-line workers are standing around shivering, because even the thermostats had a Y2K bug. And Charlie is drinking cup after cup of coffee and typing like a madwoman.”
“Wow. And she never went to the bathroom?”
“Well, that part might be a little bit of an exaggeration. But she really did work 24 hours for nine days straight. Anyway, on January 11th, about five minutes before the day shift is supposed to start, she comes out of her cubicle, goes to the line printer, hits a button, and boom! out comes the production schedules, and the team schedules, and everything is perfect, perfectly formatted, using a slightly smaller font so that the “2000” fits where it used to say “99,” and she’s even written a new priority optimizing system that helps them catch up with 9 days of missed production without pissing off too many customers, and all the assembly lines start running like nothing was ever wrong, and the heat comes on, and the invoices come out printed with ‘2000’ as the year instead of ‘19100,’ and after that day, nobody found a single bug.”
“Oh come on!” Ashton says. “Nobody writes code without bugs.”
“She did. I saw it with my own eyes. The first day back they ran two days worth of cubicles without a hiccup.”
Ashton was dumbstruck. “That’s epic. How can I live up to that?”
“You can’t, buddy, nobody can,” Jeff said, turning back to his computer terminal, where he resumed an online flame war over who would win in a fight, Spock or Batman, which had been raging for over four months.
Not one to give up, Ashton swore he would, one day, do something legendary. But the truth is, there never was another Y2K. And nobody, in that part of Michigan, gave a rat’s ass about good programming. There was almost nothing for the programmers to do, in fact. Ashton got dumb little projects assigned to him… at one point he spent three weeks working on handling a case where the sales tax in one particular county was wrong because some zip code spanned two different sales tax zones. The funny thing was, it was in some unpopulated part of New York State where nobody ever bought office cubicles, and they had never had a customer there, so his code would never run.
Ever.
For two years Ashton came into work enthusiastic and excited, and dying to make a difference and do something terrific and awesome, while his coworkers surfed the Internet, sent instant messages to their friends, and played computer solitaire for hours.
Jeff, his cubicle-mate, only had one responsibility: updating the weekly Excel spreadsheet indicating how many people were hurt on the job that week. Nobody ever was. Once a week, Jeff opened the spreadsheet, went to the bottom of the page, entered the date and a zero, hit save, and that was that.
Ashton even wrote a macro for Jeff that automated that one task. Jeff didn’t want to get caught, so he refused to install it. They weren’t on speaking terms after that. It was awkward.
On the morning of his two year anniversary at the cubicle company, Ashton was driving to work when he realized something.
Not one line of code that he had written had ever run.
Not one thing he had done in two years of work made any impact on the world.
And it was fucking 24 degrees in that part of Michigan, and it was gray, and smelly, and his Honda was a piece of crap, and he didn’t have any friends in town, and nothing he did mattered.
As he drove down Lincoln Avenue, he saw the furniture company ahead on the left. Three flags fluttered in front of the corporate campus: an American flag, a flag of the great state of Michigan, and a white and red flag with the company logo. He got in the turning lane behind a long line of cars waiting to turn left. It always took four or five traffic light cycles, at rush hour, to make the turn, so Ashton had plenty of time to try to remember if any code he had ever written was ever used by anyone.
And it hadn’t. And he fought back a tear.
And instead of turning left, he went straight, almost causing an accident because he forgot that the left turn light didn’t mean you could go straight.
And he drove right down Lincoln Avenue, and got onto the Gerald Ford freeway, and he just kept driving until he got to the airport over in Grand Rapids, and he left his crappy old Honda out right in front of the terminal, knowing perfectly well it would be towed, and didn’t even close the car door, and he walked right up to the Frontier Airlines counter and he bought himself a ticket on the very next flight to San Francisco, which was leaving in 20 minutes, and he got on the plane, and he left Michigan forever.
轉(zhuǎn)自：http://www.zhuoqun.net/html/y2010/1565.html
本文是使用 B3log Solo 從 簡(jiǎn)約設(shè)計(jì)の藝術(shù) 進(jìn)行同步發(fā)布的 原文地址：http://88250.b3log.org/articles/2011/02/18/1298010330855.html
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