I was going to write up something about the obligations of a free software developer and the beneficial nature of project scope restraints etc., but it occurred to me that these technical particularities fail to address the root of the matter, which is a far more general one of human nature. So here I present:
The Parable of the Free Software Developer and the Imposing Stranger ___________ A man builds a lodging house from the ground up with his own two hands. One evening he is sitting in the house, in front of the fireplace, enjoying the fruits of his labor, wondering if it was all worthwhile---worth the broken leg, the battered thumb, the lost comfort of the wife that left him---, when a stranger bursts through the front door without knocking, bringing into the room with him a small flurry of snowflakes. "Hello?" the man says. "There should be a window here," says the stranger, pointing at the space above the fireplace. The man is too baffled by this statement to ask the stranger why he has barged into his house. "But that's where the chimney is. I can't put a window there." "You refuse to put in a window? A very impudent fellow you are. I've seen houses that had a window just there. It was a mansion in the hills, designed by an exceedingly famous and eccentric architect, and was built by a crew of a hundred men in 20 days. If they could do it so can you." "I built this house myself, with my own two hands, and it took me 20 years. The best years of my life, they were---my very youth was spent on this house. I put everything in its right place, including that chimney and every brick in it! I like to sit here in front of the fire and warm my tired old bones which still ache from my labors." "Nevertheless, it would be better with a window there." "But I explained to you, the chimney must go there. You can't have a fireplace without a chimney; there would be nowhere for the smoke to escape." "That isn't my concern. Don't be difficult. A house simply isn't worthwhile without a window over the fireplace. Why, I once saw a mansion that---" "---excuse me, but what does that have to do with me and my house? I don't need a window there and none of my guests have ever needed one either. Furthermore, those mendicants over there stitching up their robes were very grateful for this fire and that hall to sleep in." "I say! Won't you just make me a window?" "By God! It's the dead of winter! Who needs a window now? And why should I make a window for you in my own house?" "Because, old man, I am the one who wants, and you are the one who provides. This shabby little house that you built was meant to be a delight for me---for my pleasure and enjoyment---, but I find it to be a very shabby house indeed. That hideous chimney will surely have to go. The window is only the beginning. I have many grand ideas for improvements. Wheels on the eaves, a skating rink in the kitchen, a king sized bed on the rooftop! I'm full of brilliant ideas. Why I've just had another one: we'll turn the bathtub into one of those little pissing imp fountains! What jolly fun! I've traveled the world and seen many wondrous mansions built by eccentric and famous architects. So surely I must know what is good and what isn't." "And have you ever built a house yourself?" "Why no." "And have you ever seen a house being built?" "Of course not, you old dolt!" "Then what expertise do you have regarding the way that a house should be made?" "Expertise is for doers like you. Doing is beneath me. I entertain myself with the works of lesser beings. I'm an idea man, you see. Ideas come to men like me, brilliant, inspired ideas, but not to men such as yourself. An idea man doesn't trouble himself with petty questions of how or why. He can't slow down, he's got too many grand ideas for that! Now either you get to work, old man, or I'm going to tell the whole world what a difficult little personality you have! I'll tell them you violated the Code of Conduct (signed by yours truly, natch). The Community owns this building, you are merely our free labor. We owned it from the moment you opened the door, out of your pathetic 'kindness' and 'goodwill' and let someone sleep here for free. I saw the shingle on the door, with the silhouette of the Holy Beast of the Resplendent Horns. This place is Community property, mister. So what's it going to be? Will you make for me my pleasure window?" "I will not. It doesn't make sense. Everyone would freeze to death without the fireplace and that chimney. What good is a house with a pleasure window to a dead man? Nothing you say makes sense. It's as though you're living in a dream, with no concept of the forethought effort and effort that goes into such things as building houses. I know the community. I feed the community. I shelter the community. I've never turned away a man in need. And I've never seen your face before today, Sir." "Difficult! Hard to work with! Totally unreasonable! I say! I'm telling on you! You should have known what to expect when you built this house and when you hung that shingle by the door pledging with a sacred oath that you would accept all comers. By denying me my exalted whims you have shunned me, old man, and for that you will be cursed. The ruling is forthcoming. You shall rue this day!" (This scene repeats the next night with a different imposing stranger---sometimes alone and sometimes together in gangs---, and the night after that, and forever thereafter, until the old man dies.) ______________ When you look into your heart, which character in this story are you? The old man who built the house? A kind young man who offers to help him fix the leaky roof or to build a gazebo (these being too few and far between to have appeared on this night)? The person who merely accepts the kindness of a free meal and a warm bed without complaint? One of the priests of the Order of the Holy Beast of the Resplendent Horns? Or are you the imposing stranger whose existence consists of delighting in the creations (and suffering) of others, whom he considers beneath him? Of course, as complex as human existence is, one might play each of these roles in turn in life, or several simultaneously. The important thing is to know what you're doing in the moment, and ask yourself, will this bring peace and happiness, or will this bring grief and suffering?
