October 23rd, 2017
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If you enjoy this article, see the other most popular articles
If you enjoy this article, see the other most popular articles
A tide of ideas had started a new cycle, flowing from academia to an industrial laboratory and back to academia
(written by lawrence krubner, however indented passages are often quotes). You can contact lawrence at: firstname.lastname@example.org, or follow me on Twitter.
This particular virtuous cycle seems like something that the government should do more to encourage. Interesting:
The excitement of those days is captured in this quote from Douglas Comer: “Many universities contributed to UNIX. At the University of Toronto, the department acquired a 200-dot-per-inch printer/plotter and built software that used the printer to simulate a phototypesetter. At Yale University, students and computer scientists modified the UNIX shell. At Purdue University, the Electrical Engineering Department made major improvements in performance, producing a version of UNIX that supported a larger number of users. Purdue also developed one of the first UNIX computer networks. At the University of California at Berkeley, students developed a new shell and dozens of smaller utilities. By the late 1970s, when Bell Labs released Version 7 UNIX, it was clear that the system solved the computing problems of many departments, and that it incorporated many of the ideas that had arisen in universities. The end result was a strengthened system. A tide of ideas had started a new cycle, flowing from academia to an industrial laboratory, back to academia, and finally moving on to a growing number of commercial sites”.
The first Unix of which it can be said that essentially all of it would be recognizable to a modern Unix programmer was the Version 7 release in 1979. The first Unix user group had formed the previous year. By this time Unix was in use for operations support all through the Bell System [Hauben], and had spread to universities as far away as Australia, where John Lions’s 1976 notes [Lions] on the Version 6 source code became the first serious documentation of the Unix kernel internals. Many senior Unix hackers still treasure a copy.
The Lions book was a samizdat publishing sensation. Because of copyright infringement or some such it couldn’t be published in the U.S., so copies of copies seeped everywhere. I still have my copy, which was at least 6th generation. Back then you couldn’t be a kernel hacker without a Lions.– Ken Arnold
The beginnings of a Unix industry were coalescing as well. The first Unix company (the Santa Cruz Operation, SCO) began operations in 1978, and the first commercial C compiler (Whitesmiths) sold that same year. By 1980 an obscure software company in Seattle was also getting into the Unix game, shipping a port of the AT&T version for microcomputers called XENIX. But Microsoft’s affection for Unix as a product was not to last very long (though Unix would continue to be used for most internal development work at the company until after 1990).
TCP/IP and the Unix Wars: 1980-1990
The Berkeley campus of the University of California emerged early as the single most important academic hot-spot in Unix development. Unix research had begun there in 1974, and was given a substantial impetus when Ken Thompson taught at the University during a 1975-76 sabbatical. The first BSD release had been in 1977 from a lab run by a then-unknown grad student named Bill Joy. By 1980 Berkeley was the hub of a sub-network of universities actively contributing to their variant of Unix. Ideas and code from Berkeley Unix (including the vi(1) editor) were feeding back from Berkeley to Bell Labs.
Then, in 1980, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency needed a team to implement its brand-new TCP/IP protocol stack on the VAX under Unix. The PDP-10s that powered the ARPANET at that time were aging, and indications that DEC might be forced to cancel the 10 in order to support the VAX were already in the air. DARPA considered contracting DEC to implement TCP/IP, but rejected that idea because they were concerned that DEC might not be responsive to requests for changes in their proprietary VAX/VMS operating system [Libes-Ressler]. Instead, DARPA chose Berkeley Unix as a platform — explicitly because its source code was available and unencumbered [Leonard].
Berkeley’s Computer Science Research Group was in the right place at the right time with the strongest development tools; the result became arguably the most critical turning point in Unix’s history since its invention.
Until the TCP/IP implementation was released with Berkeley 4.2 in 1983, Unix had had only the weakest networking support. Early experiments with Ethernet were unsatisfactory. An ugly but serviceable facility called UUCP (Unix to Unix Copy Program) had been developed at Bell Labs for distributing software over conventional telephone lines via modem. UUCP could forward Unix mail between widely separated machines, and (after Usenet was invented in 1981) supported Usenet, a distributed bulletin-board facility that allowed users to broadcast text messages to anywhere that had phone lines and Unix systems.
Still, the few Unix users aware of the bright lights of the ARPANET felt like they were stuck in a backwater. No FTP, no telnet, only the most restricted remote job execution, and painfully slow links. Before TCP/IP, the Internet and Unix cultures did not mix. Dennis Ritchie’s vision of computers as a way to “encourage close communication” was one of collegial communities clustered around individual timesharing machines or in the same computing center; it didn’t extend to the continent-wide distributed ‘network nation’ that ARPA users had started to form in the mid-1970s. Early ARPANETters, for their part, considered Unix a crude makeshift limping along on risibly weak hardware.
After TCP/IP, everything changed. The ARPANET and Unix cultures began to merge at the edges, a development that would eventually save both from destruction. But there would be hell to pay first as the result of two unrelated disasters; the rise of Microsoft and the AT&T divestiture.
In 1981, Microsoft made its historic deal with IBM over the new IBM PC. Bill Gates bought QDOS (Quick and Dirty Operating System), a clone of CP/M that its programmer Tim Paterson had thrown together in six weeks, from Paterson’s employer Seattle Computer Products. Gates, concealing the IBM deal from Paterson and SCP, bought the rights for $50,000. He then talked IBM into allowing Microsoft to market MS-DOS separately from the PC hardware. Over the next decade, leveraging code he didn’t write made Bill Gates a multibillionaire, and business tactics even sharper than the original deal gained Microsoft a monopoly lock on desktop computing. XENIX as a product was rapidly deep-sixed, and eventually sold to SCO.
It was not apparent at the time how successful (or how destructive) Microsoft was going to be. Since the IBM PC-1 didn’t have the hardware capacity to run Unix, Unix people barely noticed it at all (though, ironically enough, DOS 2.0 eclipsed CP/M largely because Microsoft’s co-founder Paul Allen merged in Unix features including subdirectories and pipes). There were things that seemed much more interesting going on — like the 1982 launching of Sun Microsystems.
Sun Microsystems founders Bill Joy, Andreas Bechtolsheim, and Vinod Khosla set out to build a dream Unix machine with built-in networking capability. They combined hardware designed at Stanford with the Unix developed at Berkeley to produce a smashing success, and founded the workstation industry. At the time, nobody much minded watching source-code access to one branch of the Unix tree gradually dry up as Sun began to behave less like a freewheeling startup and more like a conventional firm. Berkeley was still distributing BSD with source code. Officially, System III source licenses cost $40,000 each; but Bell Labs was turning a blind eye to the number of bootleg Bell Labs Unix tapes in circulation, the universities were still swapping code with Bell Labs, and it looked like Sun’s commercialization of Unix might just be the best thing to happen to it yet.
1982 was also the year that C first showed signs of establishing itself outside the Unix world as the systems-programming language of choice. It would only take about five years for C to drive machine assemblers almost completely out of use. By the early 1990s C and C++ would dominate not only systems but application programming; by the late 1990s all other conventional compiled languages would be effectively obsolete.
When DEC canceled development on the PDP-10’s successor machine (Jupiter) in 1983, VAXes running Unix began to take over as the dominant Internet machines, a position they would hold until being displaced by Sun workstations. By 1985, about 25% of all VAXes would be running Unix despite DEC’s stiff opposition. But the longest-term effect of the Jupiter cancellation was a less obvious one; the death of the MIT AI Lab’s PDP-10-centered hacker culture motivated a programmer named Richard Stallman to begin writing GNU, a complete free clone of Unix.
By 1983 there were no fewer than six Unix-workalike operating systems for the IBM-PC: uNETix, Venix, Coherent, QNX, Idris, and the port hosted on the Sritek PC daughtercard. There was still no port of Unix in either the System V or BSD versions; both groups considered the 8086 microprocessor woefully underpowered and wouldn’t go near it. None of the Unix-workalikes were significant as commercial successes, but they indicated a significant demand for Unix on cheap hardware that the major vendors were not supplying. No individual could afford to meet it, either, not with the $40,000 price-tag on a source-code license.
Sun was already a success (with imitators!) when, in 1983, the U.S. Department of Justice won its second antitrust case against AT&T and broke up the Bell System. This relieved AT&T from the 1958 consent decree that had prevented them from turning Unix into a product. AT&T promptly rushed to commercialize Unix System V—a move that nearly killed Unix.
So true. But their marketing did spread Unix internationally.– Ken Thompson
Most Unix boosters thought that the divestiture was great news. We thought we saw in the post-divestiture AT&T, Sun Microsystems, and Sun’s smaller imitators the nucleus of a healthy Unix industry — one that, using inexpensive 68000-based workstations, would challenge and eventually break the oppressive monopoly that then loomed over the computer industry — IBM’s.
What none of us realized at the time was that the productization of Unix would destroy the free exchanges of source code that had nurtured so much of the system’s early vitality. Knowing no other model than secrecy for collecting profits from software and no other model than centralized control for developing a commercial product, AT&T clamped down hard on source-code distribution. Bootleg Unix tapes became far less interesting in the knowledge that the threat of lawsuit might come with them. Contributions from universities began to dry up.
To make matters worse, the big new players in the Unix market promptly committed major strategic blunders. One was to seek advantage by product differentiation — a tactic which resulted in the interfaces of different Unixes diverging. This threw away cross-platform compatibility and fragmented the Unix market.
The other, subtler error was to behave as if personal computers and Microsoft were irrelevant to Unix’s prospects. Sun Microsystems failed to see that commoditized PCs would inevitably become an attack on its workstation market from below. AT&T, fixated on minicomputers and mainframes, tried several different strategies to become a major player in computers, and badly botched all of them. A dozen small companies formed to support Unix on PCs; all were underfunded, focused on selling to developers and engineers, and never aimed at the business and home market that Microsoft was targeting.
In fact, for years after divestiture the Unix community was preoccupied with the first phase of the Unix wars — an internal dispute, the rivalry between System V Unix and BSD Unix. The dispute had several levels, some technical (sockets vs. streams, BSD tty vs. System V termio) and some cultural. The divide was roughly between longhairs and shorthairs; programmers and technical people tended to line up with Berkeley and BSD, more business-oriented types with AT&T and System V. The longhairs, repeating a theme from Unix’s early days ten years before, liked to see themselves as rebels against a corporate empire; one of the small companies put out a poster showing an X-wing-like space fighter marked “BSD” speeding away from a huge AT&T ‘death star’ logo left broken and in flames. Thus we fiddled while Rome burned.
But something else happened in the year of the AT&T divestiture that would have more long-term importance for Unix. A programmer/linguist named Larry Wall quietly invented the patch(1) utility. The patch program, a simple tool that applies changebars generated by diff(1) to a base file, meant that Unix developers could cooperate by passing around patch sets — incremental changes to code — rather than entire code files. This was important not only because patches are less bulky than full files, but because patches would often apply cleanly even if much of the base file had changed since the patch-sender fetched his copy. With this tool, streams of development on a common source-code base could diverge, run in parallel, and re-converge. The patch program did more than any other single tool to enable collaborative development over the Internet — a method that would revitalize Unix after 1990.