First language taught to undergraduates in the 1990s

Derek Jones from The Shape of Code

The average new graduate is likely to do more programming during the first month of a software engineering job, than they did during a year as an undergraduate. Programming courses for undergraduates is really about filtering out those who cannot code.

Long, long ago, when I had some connection to undergraduate hiring, around 70-80% of those interviewed for a programming job could not write a simple 10-20 line program; I’m told that this is still true today. Fluency in any language (computer or human) takes practice, and the typical undergraduate gets very little practice (there is no reason why they should, there are lots of activities on offer to students and programming fluency is not needed to get a degree).

There is lots of academic discussion around which language students should learn first, and what languages they should be exposed to. I have always been baffled by the idea that there was much to be gained by spending time teaching students multiple languages, when most of them barely grasp the primary course language. When I was at school the idea behind the trendy new maths curriculum was to teach concepts, rather than rote learning (such as algebra; yes, rote learning of the rules of algebra); the concept of number-base was considered to be a worthwhile concept and us kids were taught this concept by having the class convert values back and forth, such as base-10 numbers to base-5 (base-2 was rarely used in examples). Those of us who were good at maths instantly figured it out, while everybody else was completely confused (including some teachers).

My view is that there is no major teaching/learning impact on the choice of first language; it is all about academic fashion and marketing to students. Those who have the ability to program will just pick it up, and everybody else will flounder and do their best to stay away from it.

Richard Reid was interested in knowing which languages were being used to teach introductory programming to computer science and information systems majors. Starting in 1992, he contacted universities roughly twice a year, asking about the language(s) used to teach introductory programming. The Reid list (as it became known), was regularly updated until Reid retired in 1999 (the average number of universities included in the list was over 400); one of Reid’s ex-students, Frances VanScoy, took over until 2006.

The plot below is from 1992 to 2002, and shows languages in the top 3% in any year (code+data):

Normalised returned required for various elapsed years.

Looking at the list again reminded me how widespread Pascal was as a teaching language. Modula-2 was the language that Niklaus Wirth designed as the successor of Pascal, and Ada was intended to be the grown up Pascal.

While there is plenty of discussion about which language to teach first, doing this teaching is a low status activity (there is more fun to be had with the material taught to the final year students). One consequence is lack of any real incentive for spending time changing the course (e.g., using a new language). The Open University continued teaching Pascal for years, because material had been printed and had to be used up.

C++ took a while to take-off because of its association with C (which was very out of fashion in academia), and Java was still too new to risk exposing to impressionable first-years.

A count of the total number of languages listed, between 1992 and 2002, contains a few that might not be familiar to readers.

          Ada    Ada/Pascal          Beta          Blue             C 
         1087             1            10             3           667 
       C/Java      C/Scheme           C++    C++/Pascal        Eiffel 
            1             1           910             1            29 
      Fortran       Haskell     HyperTalk         ISETL       ISETL/C 
          133            12             2            30             1 
         Java  Java/Haskell       Miranda            ML       ML/Java 
          107             1            48            16             1 
     Modula-2      Modula-3        Oberon      Oberon-2     ObjPascal 
          727            24            26             7            22 
       Orwell        Pascal      Pascal/C        Prolog        Scheme 
           12          2269             1            12           752 
    Scheme/ML Scheme/Turing        Simula     Smalltalk           SML 
            1             1            14            33            88 
       Turing  Visual-Basic 
           71             3 

I had never heard of Orwell, a vanity language foisted on Oxford Mathematics and Computation students. It used to be common for someone in computing departments to foist their vanity language on students; it enabled them to claim the language was being used and stoked their ego. Is there some law that enables students to sue for damages?

The 1990s was still in the shadow of the 1980s fashion for functional programming (which came back into fashion a few years ago). Miranda was an attempt to commercialize a functional language compiler, with Haskell being an open source reaction.

I was surprised that Turing was so widely taught. More to do with the stature of where it came from (university of Toronto), than anything else.

Fortran was my first language, and is still widely used where high performance floating-point is required.

ISETL is a very interesting language from the 1960s that never really attracted much attention outside of New York. I suspect that Blue is BlueJ, a Java IDE targeting novices.

Want to be the coauthor of a prestigious book? Send me your bid

Derek Jones from The Shape of Code

The corruption that pervades the academic publishing system has become more public.

There is now a website that makes use of an ingenious technique for helping people increase their paper count (as might be expected, the competitive China thought of it first). Want to be listed as the first author of a paper? Fees start at $500. The beauty of the scheme is that the papers have already been accepted by a journal for publication, so the buyer knows exactly what they are getting. Paying to be included as an author before the paper is accepted incurs the risk that the paper might not be accepted.

Measurement of academic performance is based on number of papers published, weighted by the impact factor of the journal in which they are published. Individuals seeking promotion and research funding need an appropriately high publication score; the ranking of university departments is based on the publications of its members. The phrase publish or perish aptly describes the process. As expected, with individual careers and departmental funding on the line, the system has become corrupt in all kinds of ways.

There are organizations who will publish your paper for a fee, 100% guaranteed, and you can even attend a scam conference (that’s not how the organizers describe them). Problem is, word gets around and the weighting given to publishing in such journals is very low (or it should be, not all of them get caught).

The horror being expressed at this practice is driven by the fact that money is changing hands. Adding a colleague as an author (on the basis that they will return the favor later) is accepted practice; tacking your supervisors name on to the end of the list of authors is standard practice, irrespective of any contribution that might have made (how else would a professor accumulate 100+ published papers).

I regularly receive emails from academics telling me they would like to work on this or that with me. If they look like proper researchers, I am respectful; if they look like an academic paper mill, my reply points out (subtly or otherwise) that their work is not of high enough standard to be relevant to industry. Perhaps I should send them a quote for having their name appear on a paper written by me (I don’t publish in academic journals, so such a paper is unlikely to have much value in the system they operate within); it sounds worth doing just for the shocked response.

I read lots of papers, and usually ignore the list of authors. If it looks like there is some interesting data associated with the work, I email the first author, and will only include the other authors in the email if I am looking to do a bit of marketing for my book or the paper is many years old (so the first author is less likely to have the data).

I continue to be amazed at the number of people who continue to strive to do proper research in this academic environment.

I wonder how much I might get by auctioning off the coauthoship of my software engineering book?

Altruistic innovation and the study of software economics

Derek Jones from The Shape of Code

Recently, I have been reading rather a lot of papers that are ostensibly about the economics of markets where applications, licensed under an open source license, are readily available. I say ostensibly, because the authors have some very odd ideas about the activities of those involved in the production of open source.

Perhaps I am overly cynical, but I don’t think altruism is the primary motivation for developers writing open source. Yes, there is an altruistic component, but I would list enjoyment as the primary driver; developers enjoy solving problems that involve the production of software. On the commercial side, companies are involved with open source because of naked self-interest, e.g., commoditizing software that complements their products.

It may surprise you to learn that academic papers, written by economists, tend to be knee-deep in differential equations. As a physics/electronics undergraduate I got to spend lots of time studying various differential equations (each relating to some aspect of the workings of the Universe). Since graduating, I have rarely encountered them; that is, until I started reading economics papers (or at least trying to).

Using differential equations to model problems in economics sounds like a good idea, after all they have been used to do a really good job of modeling how the universe works. But the universe is governed by a few simple principles (or at least the bit we have access to is), and there is lots of experimental data about its behavior. Economic issues don’t appear to be governed by a few simple principles, and there is relatively little experimental data available.

Writing down a differential equation is easy, figuring out an analytic solution can be extremely difficult; the Navier-Stokes equations were written down 200-years ago, and we are still awaiting a general solution (solutions for a variety of special cases are known).

To keep their differential equations solvable, economists make lots of simplifying assumptions. Having obtained a solution to their equations, there is little or no evidence to compare it against. I cannot speak for economics in general, but those working on the economics of software are completely disconnected from reality.

What factors, other than altruism, do academic economists think are of major importance in open source? No, not constantly reinventing the wheel-barrow, but constantly innovating. Of course, everybody likes to think they are doing something new, but in practice it has probably been done before. Innovation is part of the business zeitgeist and academic economists are claiming to see it everywhere (and it does exist in their differential equations).

The economics of Linux vs. Microsoft Windows is a common comparison, i.e., open vs. close source; I have not seen any mention of other open source operating systems. How might an economic analysis of different open source operating systems be framed? How about: “An economic analysis of the relative enjoyment derived from writing an operating system, Linux vs BSD”? Or the joy of writing an editor, which must be lots of fun, given how many have text editors are available.

I have added the topics, altruism and innovation to my list of indicators of poor quality, used to judge whether its worth spending more than 10 seconds reading a paper.

Is it worth attending an academic conference or workshop?

Derek Jones from The Shape of Code

If you work in industry, is it worth attending an academic conference or workshop?

The following observations are based on my attending around 50 software engineering and compiler related conferences/workshops, plus discussion with a few other people from industry who have attended such events.

Short answer: No.

Slightly longer answer: Perhaps, if you are looking to hire somebody knowledgeable in a particular domain.

Much longer answer: Academics go to conferences to network. They are looking for future collaborators, funding, jobs, and general gossip. What is the point of talking to somebody from industry? Academics will make small talk and be generally friendly, but they don’t know how to interact, at the professional level, with people from industry.

Why are academics generally hopeless at interacting, at the professional level, with people from industry?

Part of the problem is lack of practice, many academic researchers live in a world that rarely intersects with people from industry.

Impostor syndrome is another. I have noticed that academics often think that people in industry have a much better understanding of the realities of their field. Those who have had more contact with people from industry might have noticed that impostor syndrome is not limited to academia.

Talking of impostor syndrome, and feeling of being a fraud, academics don’t seem to know how to handle direct criticism. Again I think it is a matter of practice. Industry does not operate according to: I won’t laugh at your idea, if you don’t laugh at mine, which means people within industry are practiced at ‘robust’ discussion (this does not mean they like it, and being good at handling such discussions smooths the path into management).

At the other end of the impostor spectrum, some academics really do regard people working in industry as simpletons. I regularly have academics express surprise that somebody in industry, i.e., me, knows about this-that-or-the-other. My standard reply is to say that its because I paid more for my degree and did not have the usual labotomy before graduating. Not a reply guaranteed to improve industry/academic relations, but I enjoy the look on their faces (and I don’t expect they express that opinion again to anyone else from industry).

The other reason why I don’t recommend attending academic conferences/workshops, is that lots of background knowledge is needed to understand what is being said. There is no point attending ‘cold’, you will not understand what is being presented (academic presentations tend to be much better organized than those given by people in industry, so don’t blame the speaker). Lots of reading is required. The point of attending is to talk to people, which means knowing something about the current state of research in their area of interest. Attending simply to learn something about a new topic is a very poor use of time (unless the purpose is to burnish your c.v.).

Why do I continue to attend conferences/workshops?

If a conference/workshop looks like it will be attended by people who I will find interesting, and it’s not too much hassle to attend, then I’m willing to go in search of gold nuggets. One gold nugget per day is a good return on investment.