Reboot.

• Author: THOMPSON, NICHOLAS

How Linux and open-source development could change the ways we get things done

AN ARMY OF DISHEVELED COMPUTER programmers has built an operating system called Linux based on a business model that seems to have been written everything but business in mind. Instead of charging customers as much as the market can bear, Linux is given away for free; instead of hiding information from competitors, Linux programmers share their work with the world; instead of working for money, Linux developers are motivated primarily by adrenaline, altruism, and the respect of their peers.

Despite this unusual foundation, Linux is booming and even beginning to challenge Microsoft's control of the operating system industry. Linux may eventually pull the rug out from under the richest company in the world. It may not. But no matter what happens, it has already shown that money doesn't have to make the world, even the business world, go round. In fact, as technology improves and computers connect and create even more of our society, the principles of cooperation and collaboration that drive Linux may well spread to other fields: from computers, to medicine, to the law.

The Source

The Linux movement kick-started in 1991 when Linus Torvalds, a puckish graduate student at the University of Helsinki, got frustrated with his rickety computer. Refusing to buy another one, he wrote a new operating system--the core programs by which applications (like Microsoft Word) talk to hardware (like microprocessors). When finished, instead of running down to the patent office, he posted his code on the Internet and urged other programmers to download it and work with him to improve it. A few emailed back suggestions, some of which Torvalds took. A few more wrote the next day and a couple more the day after that. Torvalds worked constantly with these new colleagues, publicly posting each improvement and delegating responsibility to more and more programmers as the system grew. By 1994, Linux (a combination of "Linus" and "Unix," another operating system) had 100,000 users. Today, it has between 10 and 20 million users and is the fastest growing operating system in the world.

But Linux (rhymes with `cynics') is different from almost every other operating system available. For one thing, it's downloadable for free straight off the Web. It's also open source, meaning that the source code, the program's all-important DNA, is open for anyone to look at, test, and modify. Most software is developed so that only the original authors can examine and change the code; with open-source models, however, anyone can do it if they have a computer and the right intuition.

To see the power of this model, consider what happens when you're running Microsoft Windows or Macintosh OS and your computer crashes: You stamp your feet and poke a twisted paper clip into a tiny reset button. You probably don't know what happened and it's probably going to happen again. Since you've never seen the source code, it probably doesn't even occur to you that you could fix the problem at its root. With Linux, everything's transparent and, even if you aren't an expert, you can simply post your question on a Linux-help Web page and other users can usually find solutions within hours, if not minutes. (The amorphous Linux community recently won InfoWorld's Product of the Year award for Best Technical Support.) It's also entirely possible that someone--perhaps you--will write some new code that fixes the problem permanently and that Linux developers, led by Torvalds, will incorporate into the next release. Presto, that problem's fixed and no one will need paper clips to fix it again.

To make another analogy, fixing an error caused by a normal software product is like trying to fix a car with the hood welded shut. With Linux, not only can you easily pop the hood open, there is extensive documentation telling you how everything works and how it all was developed; there's also a community of thousands of mechanics who will help you put in a new fuel pump if asked. In fact, the whole car was built by mechanics piecing it together in their spare time while emailing back and forth across the Web.

The obvious threat to this type of open development is appropriation. What if someone lifts all the clever code off the Web, copyrights it, and sells it? What if someone takes the code that you wrote to fix your crashed computer (or busted fuel pump), copyrights it, and markets it for $19957 Well, they can't. When Torvalds created Linux, he protected it under the GNU General Public License, an intriguing form of copyright commonly known as copyleft. Under copyleft, anyone who redistributes the program, with or without changes, must pass along the freedom to further copy, change, and distribute it. Theoretically one can download Linux off the Web, add a string of useful features, and try to sell it for $50. But anyone who buys this new version can just copy it, give it away, or sell it for a dollar, thus destroying the incentive for piracy. An equivalent would be if I were to write the following at the end of this article: "Verbatim copying and redistribution of this entire article is permitted in any medium provided this notice remains at the end"

Use the Source

From the Oxford English Dictionary to hip-hop music, open-source development has always been with us to some degree. Since the mid-19th century contributors to the OED have defined words and sent them to a centralized location to be gathered, criticized, sorted, and published. With music, as long as you stay within certain copyright laws, you can take chunks of other people's compositions and work them into your own. Most academic...