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<CENTER><STRONG><FONT SIZE=+3><EM>A Brief History of Hackerdom</EM></FONT></STRONG></CENTER>
<P><STRONG>
<FONT SIZE=+1>In the beginning, there were Real Programmers.
<P>
That's not what they called themselves. They didn't call themselves `hackers', either, or anything in
particular; the sobriquet `Real Programmer' wasn't coined until after 1980. But from 1945 onward,
the technology of computing attracted many of the world's brightest and most creative minds. From
Eckert & Mauchly's ENIAC onward there was a more or less continuous and self-conscious
technical culture of enthusiast programmers, people who built and played with software for fun.
<P>
The Real Programmers typically came out of engineering or physics backgrounds. They wore white
socks and polyester shirts and ties and thick glasses and coded in machine language and assembler
and FORTRAN and half a dozen ancient languages now forgotten. These were hackerdom's
precursors, the largely unsung protagonists of its prehistory.
<P>
From the end of World War Two to the early 1970s, in the great days of batch computing and the
``big iron'' mainframes, the Real Programmers were the dominant technical culture in computing. A
few pieces of revered hacker folklore date from this era, including he well-known story of Mel
(included in the Jargon File), various lists of Murphy's Laws, and the mock-German ``Blinkenlights''
poster that still graces many computer rooms.
<P>
Some people who grew up in the `Real Programmer' culture are still alive and active as this is written
in 1996. Seymour Cray, designer of the Cray line of supercomputers, is said once to have toggled
an entire operating system of his own design into a computer of his own design. In octal. Without an
error. And it worked. Real Programmer macho supremo.
<P>
On a lighter note, Stan Kelly-Bootle, author of The Devil's DP Dictionary (McGraw-Hill, 1981,
ISBN 0-07-034022-6) and folklorist extraordinaire, programmed on the Manchester Mark I, the
first fully-operational stored-program digital computer, in 1948. Nowadays he writes technical
humor columns for computing magazines which often take the form of a vigorous and knowing
dialogue with today's hacker culture.
<P>
Others, such as David E. Lundstrom, have written anecdotal histories of those early years (A few
Good Men From UNIVAC, 1987, ISBN-0-262-62075-8).
<P>
What did the `Real Programmer' culture in was the rise of interactive computing, the universities, and
the networks. The beginnings of hackerdom as we know it today can be conveniently dated to
1961, the year MIT acquired the first PDP-1. The Power and Signals Group of MIT's Tech Model
Railroad Club adopted the machine as their favorite tech-toy and invented programming tools, slang,
and an entire surrounding culture that is still recognizably with us today. These early years have been
examined in the first part of Steven Levy's book Hackers (Anchor/Doubleday 1984, ISBN
0-385-19195-2).
<P>
MIT's computer culture seems to have been the first to adopt the term `hacker'. The TMRC's
hackers became the nucleus of MIT's Artificial Intelligence Laboratory, the world's leading center of
AI research into the early 1980s. And their influence was spread far wider after 1969, the first year
of the ARPANET.
<P>
The ARPANET was the first transcontinental, high-speed computer network. It was built by the
Defense Department as an experiment in digital communications, but grew to link together hundreds
of universities and defense contractors and research laboratories. It enabled researchers everywhere
to exchange information with unprecedented speed and flexibility, giving a huge boost to
collaborative work and tremendously increasing both the pace and intensity of technological
advance.
<P>
But the ARPANET did something else as well. Its electronic highways brought together hackers all
over the U.S. in a critical mass; instead of remaining in isolated small groups each developing their
own ephemeral local cultures, they discovered (or re-invented) themselves as a networked tribe.
<P>
The first intentional artifacts of hackerdom --- the first slang lists, the first satires, the first
self-conscious discussions of the hacker ethic --- all propagated on the ARPANET in its early years.
(The first version of the Jargon File, as a major example, dated from 1973.) Hackerdom grew up at
the universities connected to the net, especially (though not exclusively) in their computer science
departments.
<P>
Culturally, MIT's AI Lab was first among equals from the late 1960s. But Stanford University's
Artificial Intelligence Laboratory and (later) Carnegie-Mellon University became nearly as important.
All were thriving centers of computer science and AI research. All attracted bright people who
contributed great things to hackerdom, on both the technical and folkloric levels.
<P>
To understand what came later, though, we need to take another look at the computers themselves;
because the Lab's rise and its eventual fall were both driven by waves of change in computing
technology.
<P>
Since the days of the PDP-1, hackerdom's fortunes had been woven together with Digital
Equipment Corporation's PDP series of minicomputers. DEC pioneered commercial interactive
computing and time-sharing operating systems. Because their machines were flexible, powerful, and
relatively cheap for the era, lots of universities bought them.
<P>
Cheap timesharing was the medium the hacker culture grew in, and for most of its lifespan the
ARPANET was primarily a network of DEC machines. The most important of these was the
PDP-10, first released in 1967. The 10 remained hackerdom's favorite machine for almost fifteen
years; TOPS-10 (DEC's operating system for the machine) and MACRO-10 (its assembler) are still
remembered with nostalgic fondness in a great deal of slang and folklore.
<P>
MIT, though it used the same PDP-10s as everyone else, took a slightly different path; they rejected
DEC's software for the PDP-10 entirely and built their own operating system, the fabled ITS.
<P>
ITS stood for `Incompatible Timesharing System' which gives one a pretty good fix on their attitude.
They wanted it their way. Fortunately for all, MIT's people had the intelligence to match their
arrogance. ITS, quirky and eccentric and occasionally buggy though it always was, hosted a brilliant
series of technical innovations and still arguably holds the record for time-sharing system in longest
continuous use.
<P>
ITS itself was written in assembler, but many ITS projects were written in the AI language LISP.
LISP was far more powerful and flexible than any other language of its day; in fact, it is still a better
design than most languages of today, twenty-five years later. LISP freed ITS's hackers to think in
unusual and creative ways. It was a major factor in their successes, and remains one of hackerdom's
favorite languages.
<P>
Many of the ITS culture's technical creations are still alive today; the EMACS program editor is
perhaps the best-known. And much of ITS's folklore is still `live' to hackers, as one can see in the
Jargon File.
<P>
SAIL and CMU weren't asleep, either. Many of the cadre of hackers that grew up around SAIL's
PDP-10 later became key figures in the development of the personal computer and today's
window/icon/mouse software interfaces. And hackers at CMU were doing the work that would lead
to the first practical large-scale applications of expert systems and industrial robotics.
<P>
Another important node of the culture was XEROX PARC, the famed Palo Alto Research Center.
For more than a decade, from the early 1970s into the mid-1980s, PARC yielded an astonishing
volume of groundbreaking hardware and software innovations. The modern mice, windows, and
icons style of software interface was invented there. So was the laser printer, and the local-area
network; and PARC's series of D machines anticipated the poweful personal computers of the
1980s by a decade. Sadly, these prophets were without honor in their own company; so much so
that it became a standard joke to describe PARC as a place characterized by developing brilliant
ideas for everyone else. Their influence on hackerdom was pervasive.
<P>
The ARPANET and the PDP-10 cultures grew in strength and variety throughout the 1970s. The
facilities for electronic mailing lists that had been used to foster cooperation among continent-wide
special-interest groups were increasingly also used for more social and recreational purposes.
DARPA deliberately turned a blind eye to all the technically `unauthorized' activity; it understood
that the extra overhead was a small price to pay for attracting an entire generation of bright young
people into the computing field.
<P>
Perhaps the best-known of the `social' ARPANET mailing lists was the SF-LOVERS list for
science-fiction fans; it is still very much alive today, in fact, on the larger `Internet' that ARPANET
evolved into. But there were many others, pioneering a style of communication that would later be
commercialized by for-profit time-sharing services like CompuServe, GEnie and Prodigy.
<P>
Meanwhile, however, off in the wilds of New Jersey, something else had been going on since 1969
that would eventually overshadow the PDP-10 tradition. The year of ARPANET's birth was also
the year that a Bell Labs hacker named Ken Thompson invented UNIX.
<P>
Thompson had been involved with the development work on a time-sharing OS called Multics,
which shared common ancestry with ITS. Multics was a test-bed for some important ideas about
how the complexity of an operating system could be hidden inside it, invisible to the user, and even
to most programmers. The idea was to make using Multics from the outside (and programming for
it!) much simpler, so that more real work could get done.
<P>
Bell Labs pulled out of the project when Multics displayed signs of bloating into an unusable white
elephant (the system was later marketed commercially by Honeywell but never became a success).
Ken Thompson missed the Multics environment, and began to play at implementing a mixture of its
ideas and some of his own on a scavenged DEC PDP-7.
<P>
Another hacker named Dennis Ritchie invented a new language called `C' for use under Thompson's
embryonic UNIX. Like UNIX, C was designed to be pleasant, unconstraining, and flexible. Interest
in these tools spread at Bell Labs, and they got a boost in 1971 when Thompson & Ritchie won a
bid to produce what we'd now call an office-automation system for internal use there. But
Thompson & Ritchie had their eye on a bigger prize.
<P>
Traditionally, operating systems had been written in tight assembler to extract the absolute highest
efficiency possible out of their host machines. Thompson and Ritchie were among the first to realize
that hardware and compiler technology had become good enough that an entire operating system
could be written in C, and by 1974 the whole environment had been successfully ported to several
machines of different types.
<P>
This had never been done before, and the implications were enormous. If UNIX could present the
same face, the same capabilities, on machines of many different types, it could serve as a common
software environment for all of them. No longer would users have to pay for complete new designs
of software every time a machine went obsolete. Hackers could carry around software toolkits
between different machines, rather than having to re-invent the equivalents of fire and the wheel
every time.
<P>
Besides portability, UNIX and C had some other important strengths. Both were constructed from a
``Keep It Simple, Stupid'' philosophy. A programmer could easily hold the entire logical structure of
C in his head (unlike most other languages before or since) rather than needing to refer constantly to
manuals; and UNIX was structured as a flexible toolkit of simple programs designed to combine
with each other in useful ways.
<P>
The combination proved to be adaptable to a very wide range of computing tasks, including many
completely unanticipated by the designers. It spread very rapidly within AT&T, in spite of the lack of
any formal support program for it. By 1980 it had spread to a large number of university and
research computing sites, and thousands of hackers considered it home.
<P>
The workhorse machines of the early UNIX culture were the PDP-11 and its descendant, the VAX.
But because of UNIX's portability, it ran essentially unaltered on a wider range of machines than one
could find on the entire ARPANET. And nobody used assembler; C programs were readily
portable among all these machines.
<P>
UNIX even had its own networking, of sorts --- UUCP: low-speed and unreliable, but cheap. Any
two UNIX machines could exchange point-to-point electronic mail over ordinary phone lines; this
capability was built into the system, not an optional extra. UNIX sites began to form a network
nation of their own, and a hacker culture to go with it. In 1980 the first USENET sites began
exchanging broadcast news, forming a gigantic distributed bulletin board that would quickly grow
bigger than ARPANET.
<P>
A few UNIX sites were on the ARPANET themselves. The PDP-10 and UNIX cultures began to
meet and mingle at the edges, but they didn't mix very well at first. The PDP-10 hackers tended to
consider the UNIX crowd a bunch of upstarts, using tools that looked ridiculously primitive when set
against the baroque, lovely complexities of LISP and ITS. ``Stone knives and bearskins!'' they
muttered.
<P>
And there was yet a third current flowing. The first personal computer had been marketed in 1975;
Apple was founded in 1977, and advances came with almost unbelievable rapidity in the years that
followed. The potential of microcomputers was clear, and attracted yet another generation of bright
young hackers. Their language was BASIC, so primitive that PDP-10 partisans and UNIX
aficionados both considered it beneath contempt.
<P>
So matters stood in 1980; three cultures, overlapping at the edges but organized around very
different technologies. The ARPANET/PDP-10 culture, wedded to LISP and MACRO and
TOPS-10 and ITS. The UNIX and C crowd with their PDP-11s and VAXen and pokey telephone
connections. And an anarchic horde of early microcomputer enthusiasts bent on taking computer
power to the people.
<P>
Among these, the ITS culture could still claim pride of place. But stormclouds were gathering over
the Lab. The PDP-10 technology ITS depended on was aging, and the Lab itself was split into
factions by the first attempts to commercialize AI technology. Some of the Lab's (and SAIL's and
CMU's) best were lured away to high-paying jobs at startup companies.
<P>
The death blow came in 1983, when DEC cancelled its followon to the PDP-10 in order to
concentrate on the PDP-11 and VAX lines. ITS no longer had a future. Because it wasn't portable,
it was more effort than anyone could afford to move it to new hardware. The Berkeley variant of
UNIX running on a VAX became the hacking system par excellence, and anyone with an eye on the
future could see that microcomputers were growing in power so rapidly that they were likely to
sweep all before them.
<P>
It's around this time that Levy wrote Hackers. One of his prime informants was Richard M. Stallman
(inventor of EMACS), a leading figure at the Lab and its most fanatical holdout against the
commercialization of Lab technology.
<P>
Stallman (who is usually known by his initials and login name, RMS) went on to form the Free
Software Foundation and dedicate himself to producing high-quality free software. Levy eulogized
him as ``the last true hacker'', a description which happily proved incorrect.
<P>
Stallman's grandest scheme neatly epitomized the transition hackerdom underwent in the early
eighties --- in 1982 he began the construction of an entire clone of UNIX, written in C and available
for free. Thus, the spirit and tradition of ITS was preserved as an important part of the newer,
UNIX and VAX-centered hacker culture.
<P>
It was also around this time that microchip and local-area network technology began to have a
serious impact on hackerdom. Ethernet and the Motorola 68000 microchip made a potentially
potent combination, and several different startups had been formed to build the first generation of
what we now call workstation machines.
<P>
In 1982, a group of UNIX hackers from Berkeley founded Sun Microsystems on the belief that
UNIX running on relatively inexpensive 68000-based hardware would prove a winning combination
for a wide variety of applications. They were right, and their vision set the pattern for an entire
industry. While still priced out of reach of most individuals, workstations were cheap for
corporations and universities; networks of them (one to a user) rapidly replaced the older VAXes
and other timesharing systems.
<P>
By 1984, when AT&T divested and UNIX became a commercial product for the first time, the
most important fault line in hackerdom was between a relatively cohesive ``network nation'' centered
around the Internet and USENET (and mostly using minicomputer- or workstation-class machines
running UNIX), and a vast disconnected hinterland of microcomputer enthusiasts.
<P>
The workstation-class machines built by Sun and others opened up new worlds for hackers. They
were built to do high-performance graphics and pass around shared data over a network. During the
1980s hackerdom was preoccupied by the software and tool-building challenges of getting the most
use out of these features. Berkeley UNIX developed built-in support for the ARPANET protocols
which offered a solution to the networking problem and encouraged further growth of the Internet.
<P>
There were several attempts to tame workstation graphics. The one that prevailed was the X
window system. A critical factor in its success was that the X developers were willing to give the
sources away for free in accordance with the hacker ethic, and able to distribute them over the
Internet. X's victory over proprietary graphics systems (including one offered by Sun itself) was an
important harbinger of changes which, a few years later, would profoundly affect UNIX itself.
<P>
There was a bit of factional spleen still vented occasionally in the ITS/UNIX rivalry (mostly from the
ex-ITSers' side). But the last ITS machine shut down for good in 1990; the zealots no longer had a
place to stand and mostly assimilated to the UNIX culture with various degrees of grumbling.
<P>
Within networked hackerdom itself, the big rivalry of the 1980s was between fans of Berkeley
UNIX and the AT&T versions. Occasionally you can still find copies of a poster from that period,
showing a cartoony X-wing fighter out of the "Star Wars" movies streaking away from an exploding
Death Star patterned on the AT&T logo. Berkeley hackers liked to see themselves as rebels against
soulless corporate empires. AT&T UNIX never caught up with BSD/Sun in the marketplace, but it
won the standards wars. By 1990 AT&T and BSD versions were becoming harder to tell apart,
having adopted many of each others' innovations.
<P>
As the 1990s opened, the workstation technology of the previous decade was beginning to look
distinctly threatened by newer, low-cost and high-performance personal computers based on the
Intel 386 chip and its descendants. For the first time, individual hackers could afford to have home
machines comparable in power and storage capacity to the minicomputers of ten years earlier --
UNIX engines capable of supporting a full development environment and talking to the Internet.
<P>
The MS-DOS world remained blissfully ignorant of all this. Though those early microcomputer
enthusiasts quickly expanded to a population of DOS and Mac hackers orders of magnitude greater
than that of the ``network nation'' culture, they never become a self-aware culture themselves. The
pace of change was so fast that fifty different technical cultures grew and died as rapidly as mayflies,
never achieving quite the stability necessary to develop a common tradition of jargon, folklore and
mythic history. Then, too, they had no network, aside from local bulletin boards and a few relatively
unsuccessful experiments like FIDONET.
<P>
Widespread access to commercial on-line services like CompuServe and GEnie was beginning to
take hold, but the fact that non-UNIX operating systems don't come bundled with development
tools meant that very little source was passed over them. Thus, no tradition of collaborative hacking
developed.
<P>
The mainstream of hackerdom, (dis)organized around the Internet and by now largely identified with
the UNIX technical culture, didn't care about the commercial services. They wanted better tools and
more Internet, and cheap 32-bit PCs promised to put both in everyone's reach.
<P>
But where was the software? Commercial UNIXes remained expensive, in the multiple-kilobuck
range. In the early 1990s several companies made a go at selling AT&T or BSD UNIX ports for
PC-class machines. Success was elusive, prices didn't come down much, and (worst of all) you
didn't get modifiable and redistributable sources with your operating system. The traditional
software-business model wasn't giving hackers what they wanted.
<P>
Neither was the Free Software Foundation. The HURD, RMS's long-promised free UNIX kernel
for hackers, failed to materialize until 1996 (though by 1990 FSF supplied almost all the other
difficult parts of a UNIX-like operating system).
<P>
Into this gap stepped a Helsinki University student named Linus Torvalds. In 1992 he began
developing a free UNIX kernel for 386 machines using the Free Software Foundation's toolkit. His
initial, rapid success attracted many Internet hackers to help him develop Linux, a full-featured
UNIX with entirely free and re-distributable sources.
<P>
The most important feature of Linux, however, was not technical but sociological. Until the Linux
development, everyone believed that any software as complex as an operating system had to be
developed in a carefully coordinated way by a relatively small, tightly-knit group of people. This
model was and still is typical of both commercial software and the great freeware cathedrals built by
the Free Software Foundation in the 1980s.
<P>
Linux evolved in a completely different way. From nearly the beginning, it was rather casually
hacked on by huge numbers of volunteers coordinating only through the Internet. Quality was
maintained not by rigid standards or autocracy but by the naively simple stategy of releasing every
week and getting feedback from hundreds of users within days, creating a sort of rapid Darwinian
selection on the mutations introduced by developers. To the amazement of almost everyone, this
worked quite well.
<P>
By late 1993 Linux could compete on stability and reliability with many commercial Unixes, and
hosted vastly more software. It was even beginning to attract ports of commercial applications
software. One indirect effect of this development was to kill off most of the smaller commercial
UNIX vendors -- without developers and hackers to sell to, they folded. One of the few survivors
flourished by offering full sources with its BSD-based UNIX and cultivating close ties with the
hacker community.
<P>
Hackerdom, defying repeated predictions of its demise, was beginning to remake the
commercial-software world in its own image!
<P>
The growth of Linux synergized with another phenomenon: the public discovery of the Internet. The
early 1990s also saw the beginnings of a flourishing Internet-provider industry, selling connectivity to
the public for a few dollars a month. Following the invention of the World-Wide Web, the Internet's
already-rapid growth accelerated to a breakneck pace.
<P>
By 1994, the year Berkeley's UNIX development group formally shut down, several different free
UNIX versions (Linux and some others based around 4.4BSD) served as the major focal points of
hacking activity. Linux was being distributed commercially on CD-ROM and selling like hotcakes.
By the end of 1995, major computer companies were beginning to take out glossy advertisements
celebrating the Internet-friendliness of their software and hardware!
<P>
In the late 1990s the central activities of hackerdom are Linux development and the mainstreaming
of the Internet. The World Wide Web has at last made the Internet into a mass medium, and many
of the hackers of the 1980s and early 1990s now run Internet Service Providers selling or giving
access to the masses.
<P>
The mainstreaming of the Internet has even brought the hacker culture the beginnings of mainstream
respectability and political clout. In 1994 and 1995 hacker activism scuppered the Clipper proposal
which would have put strong encryption under government control. In 1996 hackers mobilized a
broad coalition to defeat the misnamed "Communications Decency Act" and prevent censorship of
the Internet.
<P>
The general culture now accepts that the Internet and computing technology will crucially shape the
societies of the 21st century. The hacker culture, the whole body of folklore and tradition and
attitudes, is becoming part of the cultural heritage of today's kids along with Internet technology. The
future looks bright for hackers. </STRONG></FONT>
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