When one is working in an IT department, however, many of the work requests that arise are actually fairly simple. If one then takes these simple requests, and treats them as if they were complicated, they become complicated. And this complication leads to extended delivery times, and large expenses, and increased risks of failure.

Here’s the analogy. When one orders an automobile — and they can manufacture it to order and deliver it in only a few days — that’s impressive. But when one orders a pastrami and provolone on rye with roasted peppers and a pickle — that estimate of “only a few days” starts to seem a trifle excessive.

We don’t have methodologies — even “agile” methodologies — that model application delivery in an IT department (or even a part of it) like a delicatessen. Every sandwich order may not require baking the bread, smoking the beef, growing the peppers. Inventory management in a delicatessen is not quite as structured as in an automotive factory. So when somebody from “the business” requests an application from IT — and gets something within the day — it is cause for astonishment.

I’d like to think that with the proliferation of modern tools, libraries, frameworks, and environments, that we could be as responsive — sometimes — as the counterman at the deli.

It doesn’t mean what you think it means.

An open source company is one that, as its core revenue-generating business, actively produces, distributes, and sells (or sells services around) software under an OSI-approved license.

So, supposing that a company produces a software product. It is released under the GPL (or other OSI-approved license). Its business model is to sell versions of the software under a commercial license (the famous “dual-licensing” business model). In such a case, the core revenue-gnerating business produces, distributes, and sells software which is explicitly not under an open source license — even though the exact same bits are available under an open source license.

Under the proposed definition would such a company be an open source company?

Portions of this product are based in part on the work of the Regents of the University of California, Berkeley and its contributors. Because Microsoft has included the Regents of the University of California, Berkeley, software in this product, Microsoft is required to include the following text that accompanied such software:

and

Portions of this software are based in part on the work of Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Because Microsoft has included the Massachusetts Institute of Technology software in this product, Microsoft is required to include the following text that accompanied such software:

and many others.

Obviously, that makes Microsoft’s Windows XP an Open Source product, built as it is upon BSD licensed software, and Microsoft, an Open Source company. Or perhaps not. Or perhaps, in a homeopathic way.

If the definition of “open source” includes any software that incorporates BSD licensed code, then I think we’re approaching the point where all software is open source software. My personal recent favorite is the recently GPL’d Xara Xtreme. It’s a drawing program. The license is GPL. Check out the build instructions. Especially step 4. It seems that the rendering library is provided as binary only. A curious fusion: binary-only GPL software.

I think it’s fair to say that pretty much all software now incorporates some free software components, LGPL’d, BSD’d, or whatnot. Mathematica does. Apple’s Mac OSX does. Adobe Photoshop does.

I saw the same thing happen to “Object Orientation”. The Object Oriented Programming Systems, Languages and Applications (OOPSLA) conference used to be frequented by people working in brand new object-oriented languages like Smalltalk. Then, somewhere along the way, every programming language (including Perl and Fortran and Cobol) added object oriented extensions, and it was difficult to find any programming which wasn’t object oriented. Here we are with open source software.

It’s not meaningless. It’s a synonym for digital software. Or, maybe, object-oriented software.

On the plus side, that means that Nat can invite anybody to OSCON.

On the plus side, that means that Open Source has achieved world domination.

On the minus side, it doesn’t feel a whole lot different than when most software was proprietary.

Open Source is a sourcing strategy for software users and manufacturers. It’s like software-written-by-consultants-instead-of-employees, which we don’t have a nice word for, but we could make one up. How about consultative software? How is consultative software different from regular software? Is the software consultative if some employees and some consultants work on it? Of course it is. What if the consultants are marketing consultants, but all the software is written by employees? Well, that should probably count, too.

As long as the definition (of anything) is based on the production process instead of the finished product, it becomes difficult to distinguish, given the finished product, which process was used — unless the process affects the finished product in some definable way — in which case you should define the difference based on that “finished product” difference. And for anything with a complex production process, it can always be true that some part of the production process can incorporate any methodology you like.

It’s useful to make distinctions. There ought to be some kind of software which isn’t Open Source, which we can distinguish from Open Source Software. I agree with Nat’s definition. I should be able to download it, compile it, and use it. Burn it onto a CD and give it to all my friends. Sell copies at a community fund-raiser.

If I can’t, then it is Open-Source-compatible software, or Open-Source-friendly software, or Open-Source-oriented software, but it isn’t Open Source software. It’s probably Object-Oriented, though, so perhaps they could present at OOPSLA.

1. I grew up in São Paulo, in Villa Buarque — between Avenida Santo Amaro and Parque Ibirapuera. That means I used to be bilingual in English and Brazilian Portuguese — although the Portuguese is a bit rusty now.
2. The library at the small school I attended did not have a card catalog for the paperback book section. In sixth or seventh grade I undertook a project to type up a card catalog (on my Olivetti manual typewriter) for the paperbacks — two index cards for each book, so they could be located by author or by title. (I had to buy Delicious Library when it came out because the idea of automating the building of a card catalog had a certain nostalgic appeal.) For some reason, I remember wrestling with the question of whether Daphne du Maurier should be filed under “D” or “M”. There is a right answer.
3. My family and I came to America on a cargo ship, the Burg Sparrenberg, which was carrying raw cocoa and a few passengers. One of the passengers was a firm believer that eye exercises would eliminate the need for spectacles. Alas, I still wear glasses. Perhaps I didn’t do the exercises correctly.
4. When I was in high school, we used to take the subway down to the McAlpin Hotel on 34th Street for USCF chess tournaments. As black, I would always play the Petroff’s Defense for King’s pawn openings. I favored the Indian defenses for Queen’s pawn openings.
5. In college, I stopped playing chess and took up Go. I used to hang out at the student center coffee house trolling for games. Eventually, this obsession led me to drop out of school. I did, however, go back the following year and graduate.

Now we get to the hard part. Most of the people I can think of to pass this along to are non-bloggers. Calling them out “bloggishly” as it were, wouldn’t work. So, I’m going to widen the circle by using a generational shift. I have five children over the age of 16. Matthew, Kimberly, Kayla, Sara, and Corey. Tag. You’re it. Five things that your father (and the rest of the world) doesn’t (don’t) know about you. You could even post them to your MySpace account.

And encourage five other people to do the same.

“I need a new Web page”, said Chris.

By which, of course, she meant the piece of paper upon which were written down the details of the Spanish Web act.

Yes, chez nous, the meaning of “Web page” is seasonal.

It feels like you’ve made a lot of progress when you yell “Timber” and hear the big crash.

But getting the stump out is usually the bigger job.

Here’s the one that made me pause.

In case your Dickens is as rusty as mine, here’s what’s happening: Miss Trotwood wants to send David to school in Canterbury, but he can’t board at the school, and she doesn’t approve of any of the nearby boarding houses. Her lawyer, Mr. Wickfield, offers to take him in. She demurs. Until:

“Come! I know what you mean,” cried Mr. Wickfield. “You shall not be oppressed by the receipt of favours, Miss Trotwood. You may pay for him, if you like. We won’t be hard about terms, but you shall pay if you will.”

Which, of course, made me think about both the Internet and Open Source.

I guess both the Internet and Open Source software would have fared better if Victorian sensibilities had survived. Imagine Miss Trotwood being offered capable software for free. Imagine Miss Trotwood being offered the use of an online service for free. Obviously she would demur. What kind of person would willingly allow themselves to be oppressed by the receipt of favours? Certainly, no respectable person. No, a respectable person would will to pay. There’s no need for the provider to be hard about terms.

The more I thought about this, the more I realized that, in fact, one of the (very few) things that Gina and I have in common, is our nineteenth century sensibility — mine deriving more from Conan Doyle than Dickens (which makes me a trifle more modern). And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was, in fact, feeling oppressed by the receipt of all those favours. Last year, I began to prefer purchased software over gratis software. This year, my project will be to choose paid websites over free ones.

I resolved to cancel existing accounts for free services. As I came across things that were too useful to cancel, I would see if there was a way to pay for them, or to find alternatives where I could “pay if I will”.

The initial attempts have been … interesting. And thereby hangs a tale for another time.

Here’s what it looks like:

Three different kinds of cereals. In their decanters.

Yup, that’s part of putting the groceries away. Milk on the refrigerator shelf. Bread in the bread-box. Bananas on the banana hammock.

And cereals, of course, decanted. And the empty boxes discarded.

It seems that most people don’t decant their cereals, so we sometimes get asked why we do.

The answer is: For the same reason we don’t get broadcast or cable TV; to shield us from advertising. There’s too much advertising on a cereal box.

Some people object to unsolicited messages in their e-mail, and resort to counter-measures to minimize that nuisance. Some object to pop-up ads in their browser, and resort to counter-measures to minimize *that* nuisance. We do those things. But there are also unsolicited commercial messages broadcast on television, and printed on cereal boxes. We take counter-measures against those, too.