BUSINESS
 

                 Computer programming

                 Hackers rule
                 S A N    F R A N C I S C O

                Software that has been developed by thousands of volunteers and is given
                 away is often better than the stuff for sale
 

                 WHEN Silicon Valley nerds stage a demonstration, it is usually to show off new
                 technology. But when a hundred of them gathered on February 15th, on top of a
                 parking garage next to Microsoft’s Silicon Valley offices, it was to protest against
                 the “Windows tax”. Computer users, they argue, have to pay dues to Microsoft,
                 because almost all PCs come with Windows. Consumers who use another
                 operating system, such as Linux, should get a refund.

                 Microsoft offered the protesters soft drinks, but no cash. However they will not
                 be so easily brushed aside. Linux is the most successful example of software
                 developed by a loose fraternity of volunteers rather than a firm’s in-house
                 programmers. This “open-source” software challenges the way the software
                 industry—and Microsoft in particular—has always gone about its business.

                 Several big software firms, such as Informix and Oracle, have recently released
                 products that run on Linux. This has helped Linux almost to triple its share of the
                 market for server operating systems, to 17.2% last year, outpacing even Windows
                 NT, according to International Data Corporation, a consultancy (see chart). Linux
                 now has 7.5m-10m users. It will get a further boost in March when IBM launches
                 full backing for the free program.
 
 

                 But Linux’s main significance may be its proof of the advantages of open-source
                 software. Sun Microsystems has adopted a variation of open-source for its Java
                 and Jini technologies, and is considering the same for its Unix operating system,
                 Solaris. IBM is already using open-source for some products, including an e-mail
                 program. If it wins its antitrust case against Microsoft, the Department of Justice
                 might try to end the company’s monopoly of PC operating systems by making
                 Windows more like an open-source program.

                 The Internet has allowed open-source programming to flourish. Without it, it
                 would have been impossible for thousands of volunteer programmers in different
                 countries to collaborate. The Internet makes it possible to distribute the results of
                 their labour anywhere at almost no cost.

                 Companies using the Internet often rely on open-source software for
                 “mission-critical” tasks. Yahoo!, the world’s most popular website, uses an
                 open-source operating system called FreeBSD, a web-server program called
                 Apache and the programming language Perl. Without collectively written code,
                 the Internet would disintegrate: Apache runs on 53% of all web servers, and
                 Sendmail routes 78% of all e-mail.

                 The beauty of the bazaar

                 Open-source software is the fruit of creative anarchy. With almost all software,
                 programmers first write the “source code,” the actual set of instructions, which is
                 then translated into “binary code”, a form that computers can easily handle.
                 Because this procedure, called compilation, is hard to reverse, firms can sell a
                 program without revealing the instructions that underlie it—rather as Coca-Cola
                 can market soft drinks without giving away its secret recipe.

                 In the early days of computing, software usually came complete with its source
                 code. Pioneers needed to tweak their programs and shared improvements freely.
                 It was only in the 1970s, as computing spread, that firms such as Microsoft started
                 to withhold the source code, making software truly private. It became highly
                 profitable to sell programs shorn of their source code.

                 Many early programmers were unhappy. Proprietary software was “spiritually
                 wasteful” because it discouraged co-operation. One such, Richard Stallman,
                 founded the Free Software Foundation in 1983. Mr Stallman developed
                 “copyleft”, the mirror-image of copyright. You can do what you want with the
                 programs, which come with a sort of public licence—even sell your own version.
                 However, the source code must stay open. And the licence is “viral”, preventing
                 the combination of copyleft and proprietary code.

                 Open-source programming is more like academic work than business. And just as
                 the disclosure of theories and empirical data usually produces good science, so
                 published code leads to better software. The programmers are motivated not
                 chiefly by money, but by reputation. It is a coup to write “patches” that pass the
                 scrutiny of fellow hackers and get incorporated in the next version of a program.
                 Increasingly, there are longer-term financial rewards too. O’Reilly & Associates,
                 which sells manuals for open-source programs, employs Brian Behlendorf, who
                 developed Apache, and the creator of Perl, Larry Wall.

                 This unusual economy is regulated by a set of unwritten rules, according to Eric
                 Raymond, its leading intellectual light. The programmers are mostly governed by
                 a “benevolent dictator”, such as Linus Torvalds, the founder of Linux, who has the
                 final say about which “patch” makes it into the program. Tampering with the file
                 that lists the contributors to a program amounts to a high crime.

                 “Given enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow,” says Mr Raymond. In “The
                 Cathedral and the Bazaar”, the manifesto of the open-source movement, he argues
                 that the proprietary model has reached its limits. His case in point is Microsoft’s
                 biggest-ever cathedral, Windows 2000. Microsoft keeps delaying the release
                 because the architects and stonemasons swarming all over it are struggling to rid
                 it of bugs.

                 By contrast the legion of unco-ordinated contributions to Linux, made in the
                 bazaar, has created an operating system that gets top marks for reliability and
                 performance. It is free and adaptable. And it liberates firms from the
                 program-release schedules of software suppliers, which are often inconvenient
                 and late.

                 Yet there are drawbacks. Big software companies have every reason not to go
                 open-source. Hackers might also not be keen to work alongside the likes of IBM
                 and Sun; many are strongly anti-commercial. There is also the danger of
                 “forking”—when a group falls apart and incompatible versions of a program
                 emerge—as has happened to one operating system, BSD Unix, when personality
                 conflicts led to splits. Few managers will bet their companies on the product
                 support they receive in news groups on the Internet.

                 Hence the importance of the commercial fringe to open-source software.
                 Numerous service companies, such as Caldera, Red Hat and S.u.S.E, have built a
                 business out of making Linux easier to install. Eric Allman, the “benevolent
                 dictator” of Sendmail, has set up a company that supports the open-source
                 development of the program, while selling a commercial version and services to
                 support it.

                 Software companies are also trying to adapt open-source—though purists are not
                 pleased. When Netscape released the source code of its web browser in March
                 1998, it wanted to involve other companies. The project’s licence allows
                 contributors to keep code they supply for the browser secret under certain
                 circumstances.

                 Sun has tackled the danger of different, non-compatible versions—not least
                 because it is afraid that Microsoft could hijack its technologies. Anyone can
                 download the Java and Jini source codes, thus becoming a member of the club of
                 developers. But this membership comes with obligations. Changes to the original
                 code, for example, have to pass a compatibility test.

                 It is too early to say whether such approaches will work. But open-source is here
                 to stay. Perhaps the software industry will eventually look a bit like a highway.
                 The infrastructure (operating systems, networking technologies) will be largely a
                 public good, while services (support, training) and specialised applications are
                 for sale. Just don’t expect Bill Gates to like the idea.