ABSTRACT
As an artist who writes code, I am in the less conventional (though far from unique) position, where I can create my own software for my artistic practice. Additionally, I also choose to release the tools1 I develop with the aim of democratising access to technology for other artists, and to give them a way to creatively interface directly with technology without requiring a programmer – or even necessarily learning to program. The global dissemination of these tools creates a fascinating and unstable mass collaboration with other artists that is both exciting and problematic: the ability to immediately distribute empowering tools and concepts without dictating control over how they will be utilised, and dealing with the insurmountable creative thirst of artists to explore digital technologies. Creating tools in software is a double-edged sword. The ability to design it from scratch, hone it any way you see fit, and then self-publish is an amazing possibility. However, the problem usually arises at the point of publication. Often for the lone developer, other people haven’t been on the same journey of discovery and will not naturally understand the scope, language and implementation of the tool that they now hold in their hands. In my own experience in writing and releasing software, the audience has changed beyond recognition. Back in the early 1990s, anyone technical enough to program a computer, get their computer connected to the Internet or even Bulletin Board Systems (BBS) before that, was the kind of person who wasn’t going to be stopped by a lack of YouTube tutorials. They were also vocal and persistent with their ideas, and it didn’t take many to quickly form a close-knit core group of ardent supporters. It’s not like that anymore. The Internet is a mall; open to everyone to visit and window shop. Our complex human relationships are mediated through choices of whether to Like/+1/Favourite/etc. something or not, and software lives (wholly or partly) on servers – not in a fluffy cloud, but refrigerated in a secret desert bunker where it might be changed for better or worse at a whim, and we are gradually being funnelled into an update subscription culture. Microsoft Word is over 30 years old,2 Adobe Photoshop is almost that.3 What these larger entities have created and wrought upon us is amazing
and feels like we have been given the most incredible tools for expression far outside of the scope of what a single or small team of programmers could ever achieve. There is certainly no lack of choice of software tools available in the world, but we have seen the emergence of many market-leading standards. If you wanted to choose a photo editing software to learn, you’re almost certainly not going to sit down and write your own. You’re going to choose Photoshop. Not because it’s the cheapest, or necessarily the most powerful/easiest/fastest, but because it has become standard and the skills are transferrable in the workplace. If I say I only use my own image processing software that I wrote called PixelSmasherPro™, this doesn’t fit a shared understanding, and while it might get you a good programming job, it won’t go down at all well in most other fields. As the old saying goes for people choosing which hardware and software to bring into a business: ‘No one ever got fired for buying IBM’.4
