It's bad for you programmer. And I am real.
No, I'm also a programmer. Not 1C, but “whatever they say it in”: when they wrote C++, when they used Java, when they wrote Sharps, Python, even in godless Javascript.
And yes, I work for “uncle”. A wonderful uncle: he brought us all together and makes unreal money. And I work for him for a salary.
We also have a mission. Loud, colorful. It’s even written on the badges.
And with all this, I am “real”.
I don’t want to start my own business: I will turn from a good programmer into a mediocre businessman. Yes, I’m not even particularly eager to become a manager. I'm in the right place. I solve problems that require at least my qualifications, and I have been obtaining them for decades. “Those were difficult years, I don’t regret them” (c).
And representatives of “real” professions use the results of the programs that I wrote, even if they do not realize it. Builders, doctors, teachers, if they don’t use them themselves, then at least use products that are made with the help of products that are obtained with the help of programs that exist thanks to my programs... And this is my “real” contribution. Even if it is not immediate, even if it is not immediately visible. Even if I can’t come to my sister and say: “I helped treat your husband.”
We have a dining room, there is a “real” cook in it, can you imagine? And he cooks my food with his own hands. He spent 5 times less time learning his profession than I spent learning mine. I am able to somehow fulfill his tasks, he never does mine. But without it, I would be wasting several hours of my “highly qualified” time. Therefore, I consider his contribution to my work significant. We work together! There's a lot of cooperative game theory about how to put a monetary value on his contribution to my work... And I'm just a little grateful to him for making my life a little easier. How grateful I am a little to the thousands of millions of users of our products, even if they don’t know who to personally send their thanks to.
I have little to say at family gatherings, especially about work: few people understand my problems, and my jokes are professionally deformed. But for some reason everyone still considers me smart... A mystery. And my family and friends want to spend time with me. And when, at some point, I caught myself wanting to see my father more than now... I found the ChGK club in the regional center. I put together a team, to which I invited my father, three classmates and a colleague from work. You will be surprised, but my father travels 40 km from the suburbs every week to play. And it's not that we play well... But we have a great time, and we always have a common interest that we can always talk about. Although our professions do not even intersect.
And a mission at work is generally a fantastic thing. I'm so glad we have her. She is like a lighthouse in the sea: when it is not clear where to sail, swim to it. Sometimes it seems to me that the mission is not for employees. It is for the “high” managers themselves, as a reminder of where they are striving. We had a couple of arguments about design decisions, in which I argued that my solution was consistent with the mission, and the alternative was not. You will be surprised, but it worked...
And once upon a time I wanted to share what I had accumulated. I went to university, asked for an opportunity to teach... And they gave it to me. They signed me up either half-time or less, but they made up the schedule for my classes according to my convenience. And I taught for more than five years, can you imagine? From school special courses to in-depth studies in master's programs. All weekend I prepared lectures/practices, went to the university early in the morning, and after classes went to my main job. Nothing stopped me: neither the main job, which took a lot of time and effort, nor the financial component...
By the way, the pennies that I received for teaching, as a rule, I spent back on students. There was an assignment to write logic for a football game, which I knocked together on my knees in a couple of days... I bought all sorts of chips and cola, and the students and I watched the student logic tournament. For the extremely difficult lab: “sentiment analysis of statements from Twitter in Arabic,” the student with the highest score received an e-reader. The second one is a player. Why not? And for the school special course, I ordered all sorts of different things from China and not only. So that my students don’t hand over some kind of Arduino, but solder something of their own.
Due to moving very far away, I left the university, and now I give lectures unofficially via Skype. Because they periodically ask for something to be “explained clearly.” And because doing is better than dreaming.
And here I am “real”. I do useful things at work. Outside of work - useful. I have something to talk about with friends and relatives. I use any rule or lack thereof at work to the fullest. I have no problem tying a tie if asked. I look great in a suit, although I don’t like wearing it.
And you - remain “fake”. Cry in public about how fate has offended you with a highly paid profession that no one understands. Dream about working at school. Feel more sorry for yourself.
And the world has changed slightly, along with the concept of “real”. There is no longer a subsistence economy: what you grow, you eat. I can spend decades qualifying to do something difficult. I know that “real” builders will build my house, and “real” doctors will help me live a long time. And “real” scientists, who have a chain to the final product and “usefulness” even greater than I, can improve their qualifications. And I will benefit the world in my place. It seems that in the smart books you read, this should be called “division of labor”?
Source: habr.com