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Going straight to source opens doors
SOME things are clearly a good idea, even if I don't understand
them. Open source software, for instance.
I've been enthusing about the potential of computer programmes
created by mass democracy for years, though I couldn't write
a line of binary code to save my life.
I can't even count in binary. I know that 10 and 10 makes
100 - that's to say, in computer-speak, that two add two equals
four - but it would take me a week to count my fingers and
toes.
I understand why this simplest form of maths is so valuable,
however. It reduces every calculation to a series of switches:
an 'off' switch is a zero, an 'on' switch is a one.
The microchips chomp through billions of numbers, flickering
on and off like a neon sign in a thunderstorm. And I understand
what's so great about open source.
One engineer comes up with a smart idea in computer code,
and offers it to a network of like minds. That network could
comprise millions of brains, at PC terminals all over the
globe.
And they all take the bright idea, tweak it, mould it, build
on it, and offer it back to the network. Every concept is
endlessly examined, every improvement tested till it's perfect.
Competition is intense, but no one charges a penny for the
input. Gradually a programme evolves that is rock-solid and
streamlined, honed to a razor's edge of innovation.
A programme such as Linux is born - a computer operating
system that's far smaller, faster, more stable and more flexible
that anything Microsoft's army of employees could dream of.
Microsoft's team is constrained by practical problems, like
paying everybody and finding workspaces for them all.
No such difficulties hamper the open source network - and
nobody can phone in sick, pull rank at meetings or blow the
budget on pizzas either.
The open source ethos works for computer projects because
talented enthusiasts are willing to dedicate millions of hours
of research and testing, combining as a community to create
a better virtual world, for no reward other then the respect
of their peers and the sheer satisfaction of their work.
But in the real world, what chance does it have? No one talks
about open source supermarkets or open source TV stations.
Football clubs command the undying support of fans who dream
of playing in their magical colours - many supporters even
sleep in the team strip, to encourage their dreams.
But the guys who actually have places in the first team don't
do it for love - they demand thousands of pounds a week. Does
that cash sharpen their determination to play like heroes?
Far from it.
I was nodding my head in fervent agreement when Roy Keane
launched his famous, scathing attack on prima donna players
whose desire was blunted by ''Rolexes, mansions and Ferraris''.
Look more closely at the real world, though, and you'll see
open source ideals have been around a long time. Political
parties, for instance, are driven by grass-roots enthusiasts
who give up free time, earning power and even careers to further
the cause.
And thousands of charity shops, helplines and support groups
round the country rely wholly on volunteers, who enjoy the
camaraderie and the team spirit as they give time and energy
to help others.
Author Douglas Rushkoff has taken the principle and applied
it to religion. Open Source Judaism is an online campaign
to encourage debate between Jews about the relevance of our
religion and the ways it must develop to survive.
''Judaism is not simply a religion to be believed in,'' he
insists, ''but one to be considered, discussed, and evolved.
Jewish texts and rituals are not closed, but open to commentary,
disagreement, and even revision.
''Judaism was established as a form of inquiry rather than
a set of answers - yet, due to many circumstances, this spirit
of inquiry has waned over the past several decades.''
The project began with the launch of OpenSourceHaggadah.com
- ensure your browser can handle Hebrew characters before
checking out this site. OpenSourceTorah.com is in the pipeline.
One of Rushkoff's immediate aims is to bring lapsed Jews
back to the religion, to reinvigorate the scripture by encouraging
rewrites and even mutations for the 21st century.
''For too long,'' he warned, ''the health of Judaism has
been defined largely by numbers. Certainly, this is understandable
- a concern traceable to some very real and recent efforts
at eliminating the Jewish population.
''But must we forever judge the future of Judaism as if we
were evaluating the health of an endangered species?''
Rushkoff has hit on one of my deepest concerns about our
faith: if we insist on strict observance of our rites and
laws, we risk turning the Jewish communities into living museum
exhibits.
''I can think of nothing more horrific than taking a time
trip 150 years into the future, to find the last pockets of
Jews living like the Amish do now, throwbacks from history,
a cultural freak show.
But if we don't remember the customs that have survived for
millennia, we risk losing them by neglect.
I am not always an observant man - I respect the holiest
festivals, but the smaller ones often pass me by.
My wife Hanna is my Jewish conscience, and her quiet determination
helps me to be a far better Jew than I could be, left to my
own devices.
I don't pretend to have the answer. Working it out would
be like computing a trillion-digit binary sum in my head.
That's too much for any one mind - but perhaps it's feasible
for the million brains of the Open Source community.
Email
him at uri@urigeller.com
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