The difference between science and engineering is pretty obvious. Physics is science, mechanics is engineering. Mathematics is (ahem) science, and building bridges is engineering. Right?
Well, after several years in science and far too much time in software engineering that I was hoping to tell my kids when they grow up, it seems that people’s beliefs are much more exacerbated about the difference, if there’s any, than their own logic seems to imply.
General beliefs that science is more abstract fall apart really quickly when you compare maths to physics. There are many areas of maths (statistics, for example) that are much more realistic and real world than many parts of physics (like string theory and a good part of cosmology). Nevertheless, most scientists will turn their noses up at or anything that resembles engineering.
From different points of view (biology, chemistry, physics and maths), I could see that there isn’t a consensus on what people really consider a less elaborate task, not even among the same groups of scientists. But when faced with a rejection by one of their colleagues, the rest usually agree on it. I came to the conclusion that the psychology of belonging to a group was more important than personal beliefs or preferences. One would expect that from young school children, not from professors and graduate students. But regardless of the group behaviour, there still is that feeling that tasks such as engineering (whatever that is) are mundane, mechanical and more detrimental to the greater good than science.
On the other side of the table, the real world, there are people doing real work. It generally consists of less thinking, more acting and getting things done. You tend to use tables and calculators rather than white boards and dialogue, your decisions are much more based on gut feelings and experience than over-zealously examining every single corner case and the result of your work is generally more compact and useful to the every-day person.
From that perspective, (what we’re calling) engineers have a good deal of prejudice towards (what we called) scientists. For instance, the book Real World Haskell is a great pun from people that have one foot on each side of this battle (but are leaning towards the more abstract end of it). In the commercial world, you don’t have time to analyse every single detail, you have a deadline, do what you can with that and buy insurance for the rest.
Engineers also produce better results than scientists. Their programs are better structured, more robust and efficient. Their bridges, rockets, gadgets and medicines are far more tested, bullet-proofed and safe than any scientist could ever hope to do. It is a misconception that software engineers have the same experience than an academic with the same time coding, as is a misconception that engineers could as easily develop prototypes that would revolutionise their industry.
But even on engineering, there are tasks and tasks. Even loathing scientists, those engineers that perform a more elaborate task (such as massive bridges, ultra-resistant synthetic materials, operating systems) consider themselves above the mundane crowd of lesser engineers (building 2-bed flats in the outskirts of Slough). So, even here, the more abstract, less fundamental jobs are taken at a higher level than the more essential and critical to society.
Is it true, then, that the more abstract and less mundane a task is, the better?
Since the first thoughts on general purpose computing, there is this separation of the intangible generic abstraction and the mundane mechanical real world machine. Leibniz developed the binary numeral system, compared the human brain to a machine and even had some ideas on how to develop one, someday, but he ended up creating some general-purpose multipliers (following Pascal’s design for the adder).
Leibniz would have thrilled in the 21th century. Lots of people in the 20th with the same mindset (such as Alan Turing) did so much more, mainly because of the availability of modern building techniques (perfected for centuries by engineers). Babbage is another example: he developed his differential machine for years and when he failed (more by arrogance than anything else), his analytical engine (far more elegant and abstract) has taken his entire soul for another decade. When he realised he couldn’t build it in that century, he perfected his first design (reduced the size 3 times) and made a great specialist machine… for engineers.
Mathematicians and physicists had to do horrible things (such as astrology and alchemy) to keep their pockets full and, in their spare time, do a bit of real science. But in this century this is less important. Nowadays, even if you’re not a climate scientist, you can get a good budget for very little real applicability (check NASA’s funded projects, for example). The number of people working in string theory or trying to prove the Riemann hypothesis is a clear demonstration of that.
But computing is still not there yet. We’re still doing astrology and alchemy for a living and hoping to learn the more profound implications of computing on our spare time. Well, some of us at least. And that comes to my point…
There is no computer science… yet
The beginning of science was marked by philosophy and dialogue. 2000 years later, man kind was still doing alchemy, trying to prove the Sun was the centre of the solar system (and failing). Only 200 years after that that people really started doing real science, cleansing themselves from private funding and focusing on real science. But computer science is far from it…
Most computer science courses I’ve seen teach a few algorithms, an object oriented language (such as Java) and a few courses on current technologies (such as databases, web development and concurrency). Very few of them really teach about Turing machines, group theory, complex systems, other forms of formal logic and alternatives to the current models. Moreover, the number of people doing real science on computing (given what appears on arXiv or news aggregation sites such as Ars Technica or Slashdot) is probably less than the number of people working with string theory or wanting a one-way trip to Mars.
So, what do PHDs do in computer science? Well, novel techniques on some old school algorithms are always a good choice, but the recent favourite has been breaking the security of the banking system or re-writing the same application we all already have, but for the cloud. Even the more interesting dissertations like memory models in concurrent systems, energy efficient gate designs are all commercial applications at most.
After all, PHDs can get a lot more money in the industry than remaining at the universities, and doing your PHD towards some commercial application can guarantee you a more senior position as a start in such companies than something completely abstract. So, now, to be honestly blunt, we are all doing alchemy.
Still, that’s not to say that there aren’t interesting jobs in software engineering. I’m lucky to be able to work with compilers (especially because it also involves the amazing LLVM), and there are other jobs in the industry that are as interesting as mine. But all of them are just the higher engineering, the less mundane rocket science (that has nothing of science). But all in all, software engineering is a very boring job.
You cannot code freely, ignore the temporary bugs, ask the user to be nice and have a controlled input pattern. You need a massive test infrastructure, quality control, standards (which are always tedious), and well documented interfaces. All that gets in the way of real innovation, it makes any attempt of doing innovation in a real company a mere exercise of futility and a mild source of fun.
This is not exclusive of the software industry, of course. In the pharmaceutical industry there is very little innovation. They do develop new drugs, but using the same old methods. They do need to get new medicines, more powerful out of the door quickly, but the massive amount of tests and regulation they have to follow is overwhelming (this is why they avoid as much as possible doing it right, so don’t trust them!). Nevertheless, there are very interesting positions in that industry as well.
Good question. People are afraid of going out of their area of expertise, they feel exposed and ridiculed, and quickly retract to their comfort area. The best thing that can happen to a scientist, in my opinion, is to be proven wrong. For me, there is nothing worse than being wrong and not knowing. Not many people are like that, and the fear of failure is what keeps the industry (all of them) in the real world, with real concerns (this is good, actually).
So, as far as the industry drives innovation in computing, there will be no computer science. As long as the most gifted software engineers are mere employees in the big corporations, they won’t try, to avoid failure, as that could cost them their jobs. I’ve been to a few companies and heard about many others that have a real innovation centre, computer laboratory or research department, and there isn’t a single one of them that actually is bold enough to change computing at its core.
Something that IBM, Lucent and Bell labs did in the past, but probably don’t do it any more these days. It is a good twist of irony, but the company that gets closer to software science today is Microsoft, in its campus in Cambridge. What happened to those great software teams of the 70’s? Could those companies really afford real science, or were them just betting their petty cash in case someone got lucky?
I can’t answer those questions, nor if it’ll ever be possible to have real science in the software industry. But I do plea to all software people to think about this when they teach at university. Please, teach those kids how to think, defy the current models, challenge the universality of the Turing machine, create a new mathematics and prove Gödel wrong. I know you won’t try (by hubris and self-respect), but they will, and they will fail and after so many failures, something new can come up and make the difference.
There is nothing worse than being wrong and not knowing it…