Geekflex

I love programming. It’s a passion of mine that I’ve held onto for as long as I can remember. I have what seems like a natural aptitude for it, and I consider myself extremely lucky for having discovered this passion early on so that I could follow it into a career. After a day’s work I feel fulfilled and satisfied, like I accomplished something worthwhile. Most of the time, I also feel like I’ve learned something; which is the strongest motivator for me.

When I was a student, I would spend all night in front of my computer. I’d be learning programming languages, working on pet projects, and solving programming-contest challenges. I remember pulling an all-nighter several years ago, teaching myself C# and XML-RPC by building a simple application that let me post to my blog. Yet it seems that once I graduated and started working full time, my motivation to spend the same time and energy on pet projects diminished.

The issue is what I’ll call my social quota. When I was a student I was surrounded by other people all day. Whether I was in class, in the engineering student association’s office or at a social event, there were always fellow students to talk to. Coming home after a day rich in social interactions, I would relish the solitude of sitting in front of my computer and programming the night away.

I became dependent on the levels of social interaction that I would reach in a given day of school. To this day I can’t think of a more rewarding experience than meeting new people, talking and socializing. I became a people-person, and I’ve been as-yet unable to reconcile my need to socialize with people and my passion for programming.

Programming is ultimately a solitary activity. There is only one keyboard attached to the computer. Even when you work with a team — and indeed, one of my favourite things about the profession is when we hammer out the solution to a problem as a group — eventually you have to go back to that computer and code the solution that’s floating around in your head. After sitting, alone, in front of a computer for the better part of a day, the last thing I want to do is sit in front of a computer, at home, for the better part of the evening.¹

It’s not just programming, but most solitary activities that I have no interest in doing in my free time. Social contact is like a drug for me and I get very antsy if I go without it for long periods of time. While there is some social contact at work — and believe me this is something that’s crucial to keeping me going throughout the day — my quota is usually nowhere near filled. Once I’ve left the office for the day, I’ll do anything for a night out with friends. I get energized by being in a crowd. Whenever I’m faced with the choice of doing something alone or doing something in a group, I will always choose the group.

All that being said, I’m quite satisfied with both my career up to now and my lifestyle. It’s okay to spend my days programming and problem solving, and then relax with my friends in the evening. I imagine if the situation was reversed, and I were working with people all day, then I would probably shut myself away in the evenings and I’d be blogging about my Alone-Time Quota (or, Why I Don’t Go Out In The Evenings).

Where you choose to live is not something that can be underestimated. No matter how important a job or a career might be, once 5pm rolls around and you go home for the day you still have to live there. I’m not sure to what extent citizens are influenced by a city’s character or vice versa. It might be that the sidewalks roll up at night in some places because people prefer to spend their evenings at home, or maybe people prefer to spend their evenings at home only because there’s nothing else to do.

There’s no doubt that a city’s character and attitude can affect your perception of the place. Paul Graham describes this concept acutely in his essay on Cities and Ambition:

How much does it matter what message a city sends? Empirically, the answer seems to be: a lot. You might think that if you had enough strength of mind to do great things, you’d be able to transcend your environment. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference. But if you look at the historical evidence, it seems to matter more than that. Most people who did great things were clumped together in a few places where that sort of thing was done at the time.

His point is that if you know exactly what you want to do, you should go live in the place where that sort of thing is being done. You should surround yourself with people who are doing that sort of thing. For example, if you wanted to pursue music then you should probably go live in Nashville, which is literally off-the-charts compared to other cities’ music scenes. Whether the people are influenced by the city or whether it’s the other way around is irrelevant when you think of the fact the people there are still providing much of the influence. The fact is that in doing what you want will come more easily if the people around you want to be doing the same thing, too. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. To quote again from Paul Graham’s essay:

No matter how determined you are, it’s hard not to be influenced by the people around you. It’s not so much that you do whatever a city expects of you, but that you get discouraged when no one around you cares about the same things you do.

Although the essay emphasizes the work and career aspects of the city you live in, I think we also need to consider the lifestyle and social aspects.

I do believe the the key is to find a balance between an interesting work life as well as fulfilling social life. I’ve been going to extremes on both ends of the spectrum, so it’s no wonder I’m so far unsatisfied. I started my career at IBM’s Ottawa lab working on the garbage collector for the Java Virtual Machine. It was a very, very cool job. I got to work on some pretty exciting things and dive head first into the low-level inner workings of the VM. I was dealing with complex problems that I’d only read about in textbooks and I loved it. Yet I found that the city’s attitudes and subtle messages were running against the grain of my personality. The underlying message in Ottawa that permeates the very fabric of the city is: “Settle down.”

And I was not ready to settle down. I had just graduated, I felt like I had an infinite sea of options ahead of me and I could do anything I want. The last thing I would want to do is “settle.”

My social life went from its peak in university to a dead stop as soon as the moving truck left with my belongings in it. It was like hitting a brick wall while traveling at 200mph, without anti-lock breaks or airbags. There were several factors that contributed to the social vacuum I experienced, but I think that ultimately the root cause was that I moved prematurely. I still had unfinished business to deal with in my hometown, and I was not mentally prepared to say goodbye and move on. I probably would’ve been unhappy no matter where I ended up. Having said that, I’m still not ready to settle — least of all in Ottawa.

When I moved back to Montreal, I jumped from extreme on the work/life spectrum to the other. Although I was asked if I would be interested in keeping my job on the VM team while working remotely out of Montreal, I declined because I didn’t like the idea of being isolated from my teammates. Instead I switched teams to the only software team that operates in Montreal, which is a very different kind of team from the one I had in Ottawa. My social life has indeed improved since I’ve returned, but I am regretting the decision I took to switch teams.

I have not, for even a second, regretted the decision to move back to Montreal. This city’s message is much more in tune with who I am. Montreal’s underlying philosophy is “Enjoy life.” You can feel it in the pulse of the city’s streets. This city is alive and its character is emphasized everywhere you go. Not a day goes by where I don’t think to myself, at least once, “I fucking love this city.”

Despite the city, my social life is beginning to experience its natural decline and tapering off as I get older and more disconnected from the life I had as a university student. This gradual sense of slowing down is exactly what I need now, even though it’s been causing me no small amount of anxiety. It’s important for my personal growth to learn to deal with this very natural part of growing up. This is what my brain knows, anyway. My heart is still not willing to give it up.

The experience of my move to Ottawa is still tugging at the back of my head. I wish I had never gone so that I could experience this gradual decline at a more appropriate pace. Instead of hitting the brick wall at 200mph, it might have been more bearable if I were going 50mph or if I’d have had time to install airbags.

One thing I learned from the experience is that I have to be more careful when choosing a place to live. Many people have told me that Ottawa is unique in quite how boring it really is, and that this is only something you can really know once you live there. I learned that I need to spend enough time in a city to be able to hear its subtle messages before I decide to lay down roots there. I’m hoping this learned caution is a good thing, and if I do decide to move somewhere else I’ll be better prepared.