8th Light Blog

When I first started writing code in ruby, it was a breath of fresh air after writing C# code for a year. Ruby had a thesis, a clear purpose, rather than a hodgepodge of features strung together. It was a language obviously written by someone who cared about what the code looked like. So I jumped into it and loved writing ruby code (still do!). Recently I had to write a project in Java using IntelliJ, and the powerful IDE was also a breath of fresh air after using text editors to write ruby code. The IDE helps me in the same way ruby helped me. I write less code that does the same thing, without loosing expressiveness or transparency of intent. Less code in this case meaning less keystrokes.

So, I am going to do a little experiment using two editors and languages: ruby with textmate and java with IntelliJ. I want to see how many lines of code I have to write. The application I am going to start is a simple baseball at bat scorer. First lets see the ruby version.

We have about 27 lines of code written, and other than the describe method, which I have a macro for, I typed them all by hand. Lets look at the java code. This is just the JUnit test I wrote, there is no production code yet.

It is about 16 lines of code, which I wrote all of but the import statement. By doing a few alt-enters on the squiggly lines, I can get a stub of a class looking like this.

That is 13 more lines of code, without really typing, just hitting enter a few times. Now, lets start to make the method pass. I am going to write the algorithm without worrying about all the type definition java wants. Here is what it looks like.

So the code written is around 4 lines of code. Lets use the IntelliJ autocomplete features to help us make a passing test, which looks like.

So roughly, the ruby version was 23 lines of written code and the java version was about 20 lines of written code. There is an expense to doing all of the alt-enters to auto-generate the method and variable stubs, but IntelliJ is pretty smart about what it generates. Also, I understand a single test doesn’t tell the whole story, but it is a good indication. I found as I wrote more tests for this application, a smaller amount of keystrokes was needed for the java version, and the same amount was needed for ruby. This is due to the refactoring tools, and intellisense. As applications get larger, I find the IntelliJ refactorings become more useful. Inversely, ruby refactorings become more painful, as they are mostly done by hand.

So, in the end the constraints on a static language allows the IDE to make the refactoring tools better. Specifically, when writing java code, I can lean on the IDE to generate all the uninteresting stubs for me. All I do is fill in the algorithms: the fun part. When I start to see places where my code can be cleaned up a bit, I can lean on the IDE again to do those refactorings for me once I recognize the need for them. Removing and optimizing the code is something which is easily deducible in static languages, as it is mostly pattern matching, with no monkey patches, meta-programming, and evals to worry about. This is a limitation which frustrates me as a developer who wants to have a large set of tools in my bag, but is helpful when it comes to developing a powerful IDE.

The number of lines of code I need to type isn’t the reason I choose a language over another. In fact, it would be pretty low on the list of deciding factors. However, it is interesting to see what each language and its sets of tools do best. Hopefully the ruby community can take some notes from them. I would rather solve the other end of the equation, get a powerful ruby IDE. I know Eclipse and Net Beans have some preliminary refactoring tools, but they are still aways from being as seamless as their java counterparts.

The other day, I was with my team at an interview for an internship. After we had asked the candidate some questions, he started to reciprocate, asking each one of us a little about our development past. Every one of the developers stories went something like, I was at the wrong job, and had to get out. The candidate listened carefully to each story, sat for a minute, then asked the obvious perfect question, “What makes the right job?”

I heard responses like “Waking up in the morning and being excited to work, rather than counting the days until the weekend.” The reason this struck me as interesting was only when I reflected back to why I loved computers and programming in the beginning. It was all about the problem. I went to college, so I could join the CIA or some think tank which wrote software which monitored and defeated the enemies entire world. About every developer I went to college with got into computer science with some similar grandiose notion. Most of them were gamers that wanted to work on the next big game. Yet today, I know no developer who works on games, and I don’t work for a think tank. I know lots of developers who are more than qualified to do it, but choose not to. So, how does this relate to the right job question?

The answers about the right job question had nothing to do with the problem set being solved either. Nothing to do with WHAT applications were being written, but the culture and with whom they are being written. I think this is because each problem set worth application development proposes unique and interesting problems for a developer to solve. I have never been on a project which didn’t constantly keep me on my toes as far as problems to be solved. Even if the business domain is a bit bland, the development domain isn’t. I have seen developers to do lists get bigger and bigger from day one on a project, and never shrink. This has nothing to do with laziness, quite the opposite, it has to do with an insatiable drive to make things better than they are.

As a developer, my problem set isn’t the business/science problems I am solving, even though that might be interesting in itself. My problem set is development itself, the different patterns/practices I use to solve the world’s [software] problems. It is like many art forms where the beauty and creativity exists in the process of creation rather than the results. I am sure you could have asked Pablo Picasso to paint something he didn’t have any interest in, and he would have been passionate about it and done a wonderful job. I suspect it is because the importance is in the painting process and the choices you make during each step. How he chooses to depict the subject is more interesting more than the nature of the subject itself. I find the same true in development. The thought that goes into the different development choices I make on a daily basis is the part that drives me to love development.

Having the right results is only part of the equation (an essential part though). When I started my path as a developer craftsman, I learned the WHAT in applications is not as important as all the other variables. I suspect some of the other members on my team would agree, based on their answers to the right job question. Being part of a company that values the software for its own ends and spends the time and attention to do it right is a privilege to me. To me, that is the definition of the right job. I enjoy knowing my software will be used. Everything I write is valuable to the company for its longevity and success. It takes people who are similar in values for it to work, but it makes the work fun. It makes me wake up before my alarm, rather than snoozing.

Recently, I started to read the Knuth’s Art of Computer Science. To spice up the exercises, I am writing them out in ruby. Thinking about the basic math of programming and how to implement it in a high level language like ruby has been fun. The evolution of programming languages has gone far since the book was written. We can use cool new ruby syntax to do multiple steps in an algorithm!

Also, this is an exercise in writing clean code. Some of the algorithms in the book are a bit hard to read in there pure math form. So, when I write them out in ruby, I try to use as much expressiveness without adding clutter. This is no easy task, and often times I have to walk away from an algorithm for awhile and come back to it, because I will have my head deep in the math and less in the code. Or vice versa.

I was showing one of my solutions to a colleague of mine, Doug Bradbury, who saw a better way in ruby to solve the same problem I was with less lines of code and a higher readability. So, I decided to share one of the problems, and in a few days, I will post my version of the solution. We can see different solutions in different languages and different styles. Go ahead and try it out.

Here is the algorithm as written in the book.

This is Euclid’s Algorithm for the greatest common divisor

E0 [Ensure m >= n.] If m < n, exchange m <--> n.
E1 [Find remainder.] Divide m by n and let r be the remainder. (We will have 0 <= r < n.)
E2 [Is it zero?] If r = 0, the algorithm terminates;n is the answer.
E3 [Reduce.] Set m <- n, n <- r, and go back to step E1.


UPDATE: Here is a solution

def are_whole_numbers?(*numbers)
  numbers.each {|number| return false if number.to_i.to_f != number}
  return true
end

def euclid(m, n)
  raise "Must be whole numbers." unless are_whole_numbers?(m, n)
  return euclid(n, m) if m < n

  remainder = m % n

  return n if remainder == 0
  return euclid(n, remainder)
end

#Here are some examples
puts euclid(35.0, 40.0) #should be 17.0
puts euclid(119.0, 544.0) #should be 17.0
puts euclid(555.0, 666.0) #should be 111.0