Once upon a time (roughly coinciding with the Carter and Reagan Administrations in the U.S.), I actually liked to travel by airline. By which I mean that there was a time when I flew at least twice a year and didn't understand why airline jokes were a staple of stand-up comedy.
Enter three decades of cost-cutting, capped by the collective bed-wetting in response to a "black swan" event like 9/11.
Part of the reason this de-evolution is particularly painful for yours truly has to do with my transition from Liberal Arts graduate to programmer. The Liberal Arts bit pretty much ensures my awareness of the history of my profession. To wit: Twentieth century computing was initially driven by things being launched from Point A to Point B. Initially, those things were ballistic in nature. But eventually, the assumption was that the landing would be somewhat less...ahem..."dramatic."
One convenient aspect of visiting Washington, D.C., is that the major museums are (mostly) clumped in one place--namely along the mall. That includes the National Air and Space Museum. There behind glass, I was tickled to find a retro metal IBMonster that once crunched flight & reservation data. Anyone who's discovered a new branch in their family tree understands that feeling.
And so it was that last week, when I was flying through YYZ (Pearson Airport in Toronto, ON), my proverbial cold comfort for a 4+-hour delay (other than an extra bag of almonds) was the knowledge that the blame rested entirely with the hardware side.
That lasted until one of my fellow passengers wryly informed the flight attendant that, according to the in-flight display, we were already en route to our final destination.
D'oh!
And so, to my chagrin, I was reminded that what sociologists call tribalism can be just as rife the the left-brain-dominated world of computing as it can be anywhere else. And just as challenging to overcome as any other bias. Thus do computers make us more human. In this isolated instance, anyway.
