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There's also the unavoidability of narratives, and how they influence what people look up to begin with. For example, there's a Unix history narrative which begins at Bell Labs goes to Berkeley and then out to the world; this is already extremely limited, in that it ignores Wollongong (where the first Unix port was done, to the Interdata/32, and where important work on TCP/IP networking was done) and what AT&T did with Unix after they closed the sources and what the Research Unix people were up to after Seventh Edition, but I think the biggest loss is that it completely sells Multics short: Unix began when Bell Labs left the Multics project, so Multics, in this narrative, is frozen in time as this unfinished thing that Our Heroes are already bailing out of, and that's what gets handed down, as if Multics never progressed an inch beyond 1969. Heck, you can even see this as Myth #1 on the multicians.org site: https://multicians.org/myths.html > 1. Myth: Multics failed in 1969. Bell Labs quit, Multics survived. Now that we can use Multics about as easily as we can use Ancient Unix versions under emulation, you can spin up a perfectly functional 1980s-era Multics and see that, no, really, Multics evolved into something you can do stuff on. That's the problem with narratives: They're both inevitable and inevitably limiting, narrowing the focus to what makes a comprehensible story as opposed to a day-by-day list of what happened. Humans create narratives as naturally, and as unavoidably, as breathing, but we have to be aware of what they do to our comprehension of history. |
Since history belongs to winners, if it wasn't for the accessibility of old conference papers and computer manuals, that would be indeed the only one we had to believe on.