Richard M. Stallman
To pay so much attention to Bill Gates' retirement is missing the point. What really matters is not Gates, nor Microsoft, but the unethical system of restrictions that Microsoft, like many other software companies, imposes on its customers.
That statement may surprise you, since most people interested in computers have strong feelings about Microsoft. Businessmen and their tame politicians admire its success in building an empire over so many computer users.
Many outside the computer field credit Microsoft for advances which it only took advantage of, such as making computers cheap and fast, and convenient graphical user interfaces.
Gates' philanthropy for health care for poor countries has won some people's good opinion. The LA Times reported that his foundation spends five to 10% of its money annually and invests the rest, sometimes in companies it suggests cause environmental degradation and illness in the same poor countries.
Many computerists specially hate Gates and Microsoft. They have plenty of reasons.
‘Solicit funds’
Microsoft persistently engages in anti-competitive behaviour, and has been convicted three times. George W Bush, who let Microsoft off the hook for the second US conviction, was invited to Microsoft headquarters to solicit funds for the 2000 election.
Many users hate the “Microsoft tax”, the retail contracts that make you pay for Windows on your computer even if you won't use it.
In some countries you can get a refund, but the effort required is daunting.
There's also the Digital Restrictions Management: software features designed to “stop” you from accessing your files freely. Increased restriction of users seems to be the main advance of Vista.
‘Gratuitous incompatibilities’
Then there are the gratuitous incompatibilities and obstacles to interoperation with other software. This is why the EU required Microsoft to publish interface specifications.
This year Microsoft packed standards committees with its supporters to procure ISO approval of its unwieldy, unimplementable and patented “open standard” for documents. The EU is now investigating this.
These actions are intolerable, of course, but they are not isolated events. They are systematic symptoms of a deeper wrong which most people don't recognise: proprietary software.
Microsoft's software is distributed under licenses that keep users divided and helpless. The users are divided because they are forbidden to share copies with anyone else. The users are helpless because they don't have the source code that programmers can read and change.
If you're a programmer and you want to change the software, for yourself or for someone else, you can't.
If you're a business and you want to pay a programmer to make the software suit your needs better, you can't. If you copy it to share with your friend, which is simple good-neighbourliness, they call you a “pirate”.
‘Unjust system’
Microsoft would have us believe that helping your neighbour is the moral equivalent of attacking a ship.
The most important thing that Microsoft has done is to promote this unjust social system.
Gates is personally identified with it, due to his infamous open letter which rebuked microcomputer users for sharing copies of his software.
It said, in effect, “If you don't let me keep you divided and helpless, I won't write the software and you won't have any. Surrender to me, or you're lost!”
‘Change system’
But Gates didn't invent proprietary software, and thousands of other companies do the same thing. It's wrong, no matter who does it.
Microsoft, Apple, Adobe, and the rest, offer you software that gives them power over you. A change in executives or companies is not important. What we need to change is this system.
That's what the free software movement is all about. “Free” refers to freedom: we write and publish software that users are free to share and modify.
We do this systematically, for freedom's sake; some of us paid, many as volunteers. We already have complete free operating systems, including GNU/Linux.
Our aim is to deliver a complete range of useful free software, so that no computer user will be tempted to cede her freedom to get software.
In 1984, when I started the free software movement, I was hardly aware of Gates' letter. But I'd heard similar demands from others, and I had a response: “If your software would keep us divided and helpless, please don't write it. We are better off without it. We will find other ways to use our computers, and preserve our freedom.”
In 1992, when the GNU operating system was completed by the kernel, Linux, you had to be a wizard to run it. Today GNU/Linux is user-friendly: in parts of Spain and India, it's standard in schools. Tens of millions use it, around the world. You can use it too.
Gates may be gone, but the walls and bars of proprietary software he helped create remain, for now.
Dismantling them is up to us.
Copyright © 2008 Richard Stallman
Richard Stallman is the founder of the Free Software Foundation. You can copy and redistribute this article under the Creative Commons Attribution Noderivs 3.0 license.
por Richard Stallman
Leí la declaración de Negroponte presentando el XO de OLPC como plataforma
para Windows en las circunstancias más irónicas posibles: durante una semana
de preparación, con una fecha límite, para migrar personalmente a un XO.
Tomé esta decisión por una razón específica: libertad. Los IBM T23 que he
usado por muchos años son adecuados en práctica, y tanto el sistema como las
aplicaciones son totalmente libres, pero el BIOS no lo es. Quiero usar un
portátil con un BIOS libre, y el XO es el único.
El software normalmente cargado en el XO no es 100% libre; tiene un programa
firmware no-libre para hacer funcionar el chip inalámbrico. Eso significa
que no puedo promocionar el XO así como es, pero fue fácil para mí resolver
ese problema en mi máquina: simplemente borré ese archivo. De esa manera
quedó deshabilitado el chip inalámbrico interno, pero no lo necesito.
Como siempre sucede, surgieron problemas que demoraron la migración hasta la
semana pasada. El viernes, cuando discutí algunos problemas técnicos con
miembros del proyecto OLPC, también discutimos sobre cómo salvar el futuro
del proyecto.
Algunos entusiastas del sistema GNU/Linux están sumamente decepcionados ante
la posibilidad de que el XO, si alcanza el éxito, no sea una plataforma para
el sistema que aman. Aquellos que han apoyado el proyecto OLPC con esfuerzo
o con dinero, podrían sentirse traicionados. Sin embargo, esas
preocupaciones quedan soslayadas por otros factores en juego: que el XO sea
un instrumento para alcanzar la libertad o un instrumento de sumisión.
Desde que se anunció OLPC por primera vez, lo hemos imaginado como una forma
de conducir a millones de niños en todo el mundo hacia una vida en la que
puedan hacer sus tareas de computación en libertad. El proyecto anunció sus
intenciones de proporcionar a los niños un medio que les permita aprender
sobre computadoras, dándoles la posibilidad de estudiar y manipular el
software. Es posible que esto aún sea así, pero existe el peligro de que no
lo sea. Si la mayoría de los XO que efectivamente se usan funcionan con
Windows, el resultado global será el opuesto.
El software privativo mantiene a los usuarios divididos e indefensos. Su
funcionamiento es secreto, por lo tanto es incompatible con el espíritu del
aprendizaje. Enseñar a los niños a usar un sistema privativo (no-libre) como
Windows no hace del mundo un lugar mejor, porque los pone bajo el poder del
desarrollador del sistema --tal vez de forma permanente. Sería como iniciar
a los niños al uso de una droga adictiva. Si el XO se transforma en una
plataforma para propagar el uso de software privativo, su efecto general en
el mundo será negativo.
Además es superfluo. OLPC ya ha inspirado la fabricación de otras
computadoras baratas; si el objetivo es solamente proporcionar computadoras
baratas, el proyecto OLPC ha triunfado, se construyan o no más XO. Por lo
tanto, ¿porqué más XO?. La entrega de la libertad sería un buen motivo.
La decisión del proyecto no es definitiva; la comunidad del software libre
debe hacer todo lo posible para convencer a OLPC de continuar siendo (a
excepción de ese paquete de firmware) una fuerza para la libertad.
Parte de lo que podemos hacer es ofrecer ayuda para el software libre propio
del proyecto. OLPC esperaba que la comunidad contribuyera en el desarrollo
de su interfaz, Sugar, pero las contribuciones no han sido muchas. En parte
debido a que OLPC no ha estructurado su desarrollo como para llegar a la
comunidad y recibir ayuda --lo cual significa, visto en términos
constructivos, que OLPC puede obtener mayores contribuciones empezando por
hacer eso.
Sugar es Software Libre, y contribuir a su desarrollo es una cosa buena.
Pero no olviden la meta: las contribuciones útiles son aquellas que mejoran
Sugar en sistemas operativos libres. Migrarlo a Windows está permitido por
la licencia, pero no es algo bueno.
Estoy tecleando estas palabras en el XO. Durante mis viajes y en las charlas
de las próximas semanas, hablaré de esto en los discursos para llamar la
atención sobre el asunto.
Copyright 2008 Richard Stallman
Verbatim copying and distribution of this entire article are permitted worldwide without royalty in any medium provided this notice is preserved.
by Richard Stallman
This article is also available in Spanish
I read Negroponte's statement presenting the OLPC XO as a platform for Windows in the most ironic circumstances possible: during a week of preparing, under a deadline, to migrate personally to an XO.
I made this decision for one specific reason: freedom. The IBM T23s that I have used for many years are adequate in practice, and the system and applications running on them are entirely free software, but the BIOS is not. I want to use a laptop with a free software BIOS, and the XO is the only one.
The XO's usual software load is not 100% free; it has a non-free firmware program to run the wireless chip. That means I cannot fully promote the XO as it stands, but it was easy for me to solve that problem for my own machine: I just deleted that file. That made the internal wireless chip inoperative, but I can do without it.
As always happens, problems arose, which delayed the migration until last week. On Friday, when I discussed some technical problems with the OLPC staff, we also discussed how to save the future of the project.
Some enthusiasts of the GNU/Linux system are extremely disappointed by the prospect that the XO, if it is a success, will not be a platform for the system they love. Those who have supported the OLPC project with their effort or their money may well feel betrayed. However, those concerns are dwarfed by what is at stake here: whether the XO is an influence for freedom or an influence for subjection.
Since the OLPC was first announced we have envisioned it as a way to lead millions of children around the world to a life in which they do computing in freedom. The project announced its intention to give children a path to learn about computers by allowing them to study and tinker with the software. It may yet do that, but there is a danger that it will not. If most of the XOs that are actually used run Windows, the overall effect will be the opposite.
Proprietary software keeps users divided and helpless. Its functioning is secret, so it is incompatible with the spirit of learning. Teaching children to use a proprietary (non-free) system such as Windows does not make the world a better place, because it puts them under the power of the system's developer -- perhaps permanently. You might as well introduce the children to an addictive drug. If the XO turns out to be a platform for spreading the use of proprietary software, its overall effect on the world will be negative.
It is also superfluous. The OLPC has already inspired other cheap computers; if the goal is only to make cheap computers available, the OLPC project has succeeded whether or not more XOs are built. So why build more XOs? Delivering freedom would be a good reason.
The project's decision is not final; the free software community must do everything possible to convince OLPC to continue being (aside from one firmware package) a force for freedom.
Part of what we can do is offer to help with the project's own free software. OLPC hoped for contribution from the community to its interface, Sugar, but this has not happened much. Partly that's because OLPC has not structured its development so as to reach out to the community for help -- which means, when viewed in constructive terms, that OLPC can obtain more contribution by starting to do this.
Sugar is free software, and contributing to it is a good thing to do. But don't forget the goal: helpful contributions are those that make Sugar better on free operating systems. Porting to Windows is permitted by the license, but it isn't a good thing to do.
I am typing these words on the XO. As I travel and speak in the coming weeks, I will point to it in my speeches to raise this issue.
Copyright 2008 Richard Stallman
Verbatim copying and distribution of this entire article are permitted
worldwide without royalty in any medium provided this notice is preserved.
The following day I gave two speeches at FOSDEM: one about software patents (because the EU is considering yet another directive which would authorize them, see ffii.org), and one about GPL version 3. After that speech, someone asked an interesting question: What if party A makes a machine that will only execute binaries released and signed by party B? Would this escape from our anti-tivoization requirements?
I had to study the question afterward, and the answer seems to be that major companies would not try such a thing without having a contract between them, and that contract would make the joint activity a clear violation of the GPL.
The following day I flew to Bilbao, and since I arrived at 11pm, I had to take a taxi to San Sebastian, an hour away. (Such extravagance makes me feel strange, but that is what my hosts advised me to do.) Once I arrived, there was no place to get any food, even a snack; all I had for dinner was a little chocolate. The next morning I gave a speech about free software, and my host drove me to Bilbao, where I stayed with my friend Txipi.
It was Txipi who, a couple of years ago, gave me a record of Basque ballads (Hiru Truku). Several of them are fascinating as music, and one of them, Aldaztorrean, also intrigued me for its story. I could read the Spanish translation provided with the record, but it was written in a style that left important things unsaid, and I could not really make sense of it. I had a long discussion with Txipi to try to interpret it. He had the second record in the series, and we listened to it, but none of them grabbed me. I guess they used the best tunes for the first record.
The next day I traveled by bus to Asturias, one of the last regions of Spain I have never spent time in. I had made two brief visits (a couple of hours) to the edges of Asturias to see the mountains, which are beautiful and snow-capped, but I had never actually stayed there. This time I visited the University of Oviedo, but not in Oviedo; this was the campus in Gijón, a distinction I did not grasp until it was time for me to get on the bus.
In fact, I never saw Oviedo, which is the principal city of Asturias. But I did have time for a luscious visit to the mountains, including a most unusual lookout point (the Mirador de Fito) at the top of a stair to nowhere, and Covadonga, reported to be the place where Christians first held off the Moors in the 8th century. Christians seem to make quite a fuss about the place now. Although I don't look at this from a Christian perspective, I found the waterfall issuing from a cave in a cliff and pouring into a lake carved out of rock intensely moving. People inclined to project their feelings into whatever triggers them would probably say that the place itself is powerful. I wonder if pagans worshiped there before Christians did.
On the way to the mountains, we ate a marvelous lunch in a restaurant which had on the menu "Chorizo de Leon", which could mean "lion sausage" but actually means sausage from Leon. The menu also listed "tigres" (which were mussel shells filled with a creamy mixture including the mussel meat and other things, then breaded). I asked the waiter for chorizo de tigre, but they had none. Tigers are endangered these days, and cannot be hunted.
A pleasant surprise about visiting Gijón was that there is a museum of bagpipes, which shows bagpipes from many different countries, and not just in Europe. Since European bagpipes were made from goatskins until a few centuries ago, the names for "bagpipe" in most European languages are derived from the word for "goat". The Spanish word "gaida" is derived from an old Germanic word "gait", which was probably brought in by the barbarians that conquered Spain in the 5th century. That word meant "goat", and I suspect it's cognate with English "goat". I got two copies of the book that describes their collection, one for me and one for Tania (since she is a bagpipe fan also).
The museum gives visitors the opportunity to play an "electronic bagpipe". This is a tube in the shape of a bagpipe-chanter, with switches instead of sound holes, and it controls a synthesizer. It was easy for me to play, given my recorder experience, far far easier than a real bagpipe, to the point that I wondered whether it was really honest to compare them. This instrument was developed by the region's star musician, Hevia.
My hosts gave me several records of bagpipe music, one of which I like fairly well, and one of which I haven't heard yet because I left it in a car in Italy. But the most important one was the Hevia record. It's important because I had to refuse it. It was a Corrupt Disk, with Digital Restrictions Management, and presumably impossible to copy. As soon as I saw this, I gave it back to my hosts, and asked them to take it back to the store, so that the record company could not keep their money. I would have been glad to listen to Hevia's music, but not on a Corrupt Disk.
A "CD" that I cannot copy is of no use to me. I always travel with a bunch of records so that I can offer my hosts the chance to listen. A year ago, when my backpack was stolen, I learned to bring only copies, not originals. If I can't copy a CD, I can't travel with it, so I don't want it.
But there is more than convenience at stake here. DRM attacks our freedom, and it attacks free software (since free software cannot access such media). Therefore, as a matter of principle, I reject all DRM media. I won't buy them, or even accept them as gifts. Please join me in a total rejection of DRM.
I was staying in the home of the student who arranged my visit there, a home so large I would call it a mansion. His mother liked to cook, and came from Galicia, so I had a chance to enjoy many delicious non-spicy foods such as pulpo gallego (octopus Galician style). My inability to eat anything more than a little spicy left me with few options when eating out, and I did not like many of them very much.
The name Yucatan comes from a Maya word that means, "What's he saying?" That is how a local inhabitant responded when the Spanish conquistador asked the name of the area. So every time someone spoke too fast for me to understand, I said "Yucatan".
From there I went to Washington DC for a meeting with the US team negotiating the WIPO Broadcast Treaty. This treaty is a monstrous power grab on behalf of technology companies, and includes prohibitions nastier than the DMCA. The European Union, a highly antidemocratic institution, is also pushing to make the treaty as restrictive as possible, the better to crush the freedom of the citizens of Europe.
Our goal in meeting with them was to show a broad-based demand that they consult with the public and Congress before advocating such restrictions in treaty negotiations.
My flight took me to Baltimore-Washington airport. The flight arrived early, and I got my luggage quickly too, which meant I was just barely in time for the last bus to the last DC metro train. I had to guess which stop was closest, and did not guess quite right, so I had a long walk with my suitcase before arriving at the house where I was going to stay. On arriving there, rather tired, I found that neither the doorbell nor banging on the door with my recorder succeeded in getting anyone's attention. I was on the point of despair when someone walked by. I asked him if he would be so kind as to phone for me. His call brought my host down to the door.
The house was under active construction inside, and he said it had no heat or hot water, so that I would probably be more comfortable in their old house. He brought me there, and I got settled in to a room in the basement.
The meeting was two days later. People spoke well and persuasively at the meeting; I only hope the delegation pays attention. The head of the delegation tried to brush us off with a basic civics lecture, explaining how the procedure of adoption would indeed allow Congress a chance to study the treaty and vote on it--after the text had been fixed by WIPO--and therefore, Congress would eventually be consulted. Weren't we asking for what was already in the plan? I responded, "At that point Congress will only be able to vote yes or no. To have a meaningful consultation about what the treaty should say, it has to be done now." If this had been a debate, intending to convince an audience, I think I would have won that point. But there was no audience except the delegation, and I cannot judge whether we altered their plans.
After the meeting many of us gathered in the office of CPTech, where most of them held a post-mortem and discussed strategy for fighting the treaty. Being overloaded, all I can do to help fight this treaty is go to occasional meetings like this one; so I left that discussion to the others and answered my mail.
I had expected to get a ride in a van to New York after the meeting, but the the person with the van had a sudden emergency, and did not come to DC at all. The only person who was driving to NYC had a full car, so I was going to take a cheap bus instead. However, about when it would be time for me to take a cab to the bus stop, Jay Sulzberger decided to go home by bus instead. I remained behind to travel in the car. It was a challenge to fit all my luggage into the car, but we did it.
We did not set out until a couple of hours later, and then we got lost in the one-way streets, and then another passenger had left a coat behind at the CPTech office, so we had to go back there. By the time we were heading out of DC it was after 7pm. The car was quite overloaded, and could not go more than 65 miles an hour, and we had to drop someone in Philadelphia, and the driver was sleepy so I had to drive for a couple of hours. I was dropped off in Manhattan around 1am. Jay was home in bed hours before. All in all, the bus would have been much more convenient. Two days later another bus brought me back to Boston.