I vividly remember a conversation I had in the late 1990s with a friend in college. He was an old school traditional rock climber; he was born and raised in Grand Teton National Park. We were discussing technology and the changes it wreaks on activities, particularly climbing. He was talking about sport climbing. (For those of you not in the know, there are several different types of outdoor rock climbing. The two I’ll be referring to today are sport climbing and traditional, or trad, climbing. Sport climbers clip existing protection to ensure their safety; traditional climbers insert their own protection gear into cracks.) He was not bagging on sport climbing, but was explaining to me how it opened up the sport of climbing. A rock climber did not need to spend as much money acquiring equipment nor as much time learning to use protection safely. Instead, with sport climbing, one could focus on the act of climbing.

At that moment it struck me that what he was saying was applicable to HTML generation tools (among many, many other things). During that period, I was just becoming aware of some of the WYSIWYG tools available for generating HTML (remember, in the late 1990s, the web was still gaining momentum; I’m not even sure MS Word had ‘Save As HTML’ until Word 97). Just like trad versus sport, there was an obvious trade off to be made between hand coding HTML and using a tool to generate it. The tool saved the user time, but acted as an abstraction layer, clouding the user’s understanding of what was actually happening. In other words, when I coded HTML from hand, I understood everything that was going on. On the other hand, when I used a tool, I was able to make snazzier pages, but didn’t understand what was happening. Let’s just repeat that—I was able to do something and have it work, all without understanding why it worked! How powerful is that?

This trend, towards making complicated things easier happens all the time. After all, the first cars were difficult to start, requiring hand cranking, but now I just get in the car and turn the key. This abstraction process is well and good, as long as we realize it is happening and are willing to accept the costs. For there are costs, in climbing, but also in software. Joel has something to say on this topic. I saw an example of this cost myself a few months ago, when Tomcat was not behaving as I expected, and I had to work around an abstraction that had failed. I also saw a benefit to this process of abstraction when I was right out of school. In 1999, there was not the body of frameworks and best practices that currently exist. There was a lot of invention from scratch. I saw a shopping cart get built, and wrote a user authentication and authorization system myself. These were good experiences, and it was much easier to support this software, since it was understood from the ground up by the authors. But, it was hugely expensive as well.

In climbing terms, I saw this trade off recently when I took a friend (a much better climber than I) trad climbing. She led a pitch far below her climbing level, and yet was twigged out by the need to place her own protection. I imagine that’s exactly how I would feel were I required to fix my brakes or debug a compiler. Dropping down to a lower abstraction takes energy, time, and sometimes money. Since you only have a finite amount of time, you need to decide at what abstraction level you want to sit. Of course, this varies depending the context; when you’re working, the abstraction level of Visual Basic may be just fine, because you just need to get this small application written (though you shouldn’t expect such an application to scale to multiple users). When you’re climbing, you may decide that you need to dig down to the trad level of abstraction in order to go the places you want to go.

I recently read an interview with Richard Rossiter, who has written some of the canonical guidebooks for front range area climbing. When asked where he thought “climbing was going” Rossiter replied: “My guess is that rock climbing will go toward safety and predictability as more and more people get involved. In other words, sport climbing is here to stay and will only get bigger….” A wise prediction; analogous to my prediction that sometimes understanding the nuts and bolts of an application simply isn’t necessary. I sympathize. I wouldn’t have wanted to go climbing with hobnail boots and manila ropes, as they did in the old days; nor would I have wanted to have to write my own compiler, as many did in the 1960s. And, as my college friend pointed out, sport climbing does make climbing in general safer and more accessible; you don’t have to invest a ton of time learning how to fiddle with equipment that will save your life. At the same time, unless you are one of the few who places bolts, you are trusting someone else’s ability to place equipment that will save your life. Just like I’ve trusted DreamWeaver to create HTML that’s readable by browsers—if it does not, and I don’t know HTML, I have few options.

Note, though, that it is silly for folks who sit at one level of abstraction to denigrate folks at another. After all, what is the real difference between someone using a compiler and someone using DreamWeaver? They’re both trying to get something done, using something that they probably don’t understand. (And if you understand compilers, do you understand chip design? How about photo-lithography? Quantum mechanics? Everyone uses things they don’t understand at some level.)

It is important, however, to realize that even if you are using a higher abstraction level, there’s a certain richness and joy that can’t be achieved unless you’re at the lower level. (The opposite is true as well—I’d hate to deal with strings instead of classes all the time; sport climbing frees me to enjoy movement on the rock.) Lower levels tend to be more complicated (that’s what abstraction does—hides complex ‘stuff’ behind a veneer of simplicity), so fewer folks enjoy the benefits of, say, trad climbing or compiler design. Again, depending on context, it may be well worth your while to dip down and see whether an activity like climbing or coding can be made more fulfilling by attacking it at a lower level. You’ll possibly learn a new skill, which, in the computer world can be a career helper, and in the climbing world may save your life at some time. You’ll also probably appreciate the higher level activities if and when you head back to that level, because you’ll have an understanding of the mental and temporal savings that the abstraction provides.

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