A Tiny Sliver of Crystal...

Imagine a tiny sliver of crystal, vibrating millions of times per second. Each oscillation sends a pulse, tiny bursts of electricity that ripple through a network of pathways, setting everything in motion.

Numbers shift from one place to another, stored briefly, altered, and sent elsewhere. Tiny switches flip open and closed in perfect synchronisation, following a meticulously crafted sequence. Gradually, patterns emerge: shapes, words, entire worlds forming from pure logic.

That is all a computer is, really. A central processor, nothing more than a collection of microscopic switches, blindly following instructions, executing commands exactly as written, never questioning, never understanding.

And yet, we entrust this minuscule, vibrating quartz with our planes, our anaesthesia doses, and our bank accounts. It makes decisions that affect lives.

It is a bit unsettling.

Layer upon layer of abstraction has made us lose sight of how precise our instructions must be to direct a computer. The quality of our symbolic code must be high enough to ensure it translates correctly into the opcodes that drive that silicon chip.

Should we be concerned that the instructions we provide to this tiny silicon chip, pulsing to the rhythm of a sliver of crystal, are perfectly accurate? If so, we must ensure that the quality of our symbolic code and the systems built with it remain just as high.

To many, that is not so obvious, apparently.

Originally posted on LinkedIn.