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Sat, 15 Jul 2006
I posted an article recently that took a swipe at the direction of Python development. Had I realized that it would be seen by people on the Python developers list, I’d have phrased things differently—I treat this blog as a private repository of my thoughts about various things and assume it will be mostly read only by people who know me. This post is intended to explain my position a bit more clearly and to take into account some of the responses from the Python developers.
I’m going to start by outlining my position and my expectations so that those people who seemed baffled by my stance can have a better opportunity to understand this stuff. Then I’m going to discuss a small fragment of the responses on the mailing list. And I’ll finish up with my thoughts about the future.
At the outset, it would be useful to understand that there’s nothing personal in anything I say here—I’m simply stating my take on things. I know I’m far from a typical Python user, and I’m certainly not trying to suggest that everybody should do things my way or even agree with me. Although I would hope that people would agree that I’m entitled to hold my own opinions.
I’ve been developing software for commercial clients for about 25 years and some of the code I wrote twenty years ago is still in daily use in business environments. I take a lot of care to make my software into a stable and useful tool that allows its users to conduct their normal processes in the way they want—I do not believe that customers should twist themselves in knots to adapt their way of doing things to the software that somebody tosses on their lap.
Sometimes, this whole process is straightforward. The customer has a stable hardware platform and I provide stable software and their process undergoes minimal change—and their entire platform is isolated from the big bad world. In these cases, we might see the same old hardware running for 15 years or more with unchanged operating system and application software. Nothing will go wrong there.
In other circumstances, customers run their business processes on systems that are exposed to the Internet and need to keep their operating system and basic utilities up to date in order to avoid exploits. This can result in unexpected updates of things that my software might depend on—such as a new version of Python or, to take another real example, an updated Unix C compiler that introduced a gratuitous change in the format of floating point values that resulted in a database where all values were suddenly multiplied by 4.
Since I use a large number of software packages on my systems (over 500 at present), it’s completely impossible for me to keep fully informed about all the evolution that goes on in all of them. I am a contributor to a small number of free software projects and I do take seriously my responsibility to test them. But I just can’t do that for everything I use if I am also going to do my day job. So I have an expectation that my tools won’t introduce gratuitous change into my world.
What puzzled me about some of the responses on the Python developers list was that people felt entitled to take a swipe at me for expecting bug free software, despite the fact that I had clearly explained that I was not complaining about a bug—all software has bugs and I understand that they must be fixed when found. My complaint was about a change in behaviour from a function that had no bug in it.
Fortunately, Guido van Rossum (the Python benevolent dictator) is a lot smarter than the chief Perl weenie and knows how to read for the real content. He recognised that the issue I was complaining about was something that had bitten him in the past and he requested that it now be fixed. I understand that a fix is scheduled for Python-2.5 when it comes out.
I understand the desire of the Python community to continue to
develop their language.
(I think they’re wrong, but I’m in a tiny minority and I have no
intention of trying to convert the majority to my opinion.)
What I find problematical, however, is their willingness to break
working code as part of this process.
I complained the other day about the change in behaviour of
It’s one thing to extend the language and its support libraries. And I have no argument with that at all. And it’s fine to fix actual bugs in the existing code. But making changes that are guaranteed to break existing correct code is just insane, as far as I’m concerned.
As another example of inexplicable change, I would mention the change in meaning of the division operator. It doesn’t matter if, in hindsight, you see that it would have been nicer to do something differently—once people are using your language, you have to leave it alone. Or else they will do what I’m going to do. I’m going to lock my customers into Python-2.3 for now and then I’m going to migrate all my Python code to a language that doesn’t go in for this kind of breakage.
Ironically, had I used awk for the software in question, I’d have had no problems at all. But Python was new at the time and arguably nicer to write and had two minor but useful features that were missing from awk, so I decided to develop a collection of software using Python. I don’t regret doing that, but it’s definitely time for me to move on now. That’s not just because of the small number of issues that I’ve discussed here, but because of the looming arrival of Python 3000 which sounds like far too dramatic a change for me to want to keep up with it. If I have to deal with that level of change, I’m going to be far better served by choosing a more stable environment for the future work.