allowance to buy computer magazines. One of them contains a pro
gram for Morse code. The odd thing about this particular program
is that it's not written in the BASIC language. Instead, it's written
as a list of numbers that could be translated by hand to machine
language-the zeros and ones that the computer reads.
That's how you discover that the computer doesn't really
speak BASIC. Instead it operates according to a much more
simple language. Helsinki kids are playing hockey and skiing
with their parents in the woods. You're learning how a computer
actually works. Unaware that programs exist to translate human
readable numbers into the zeros and ones that a computer under
stands, you just start writing programs in number form and do
the conversions by hand. This is programming in machine lan
guage, and by doing it you start to do things you wouldn't have
thought possible before. You are able to push what the computer
can do. You control every single small detail. You start to think
about how you can do things slightly faster in a smaller space.
Since there's no abstraction layer between you and the computer,
you get fairly close. This is what it's like to be intimate with a
machine.
You're twelve, thirteen, fourteen, whatever. Other kids are
out playing soccer. Your grandfather's computer is more interest
ing. His machine is its own world, where logic rules. There are
maybe three people in class with computers and only one of them
uses it for the same reasons. You hold weekly meetings. It's the
only social activity on the calendar, except for the occasional com
puter sleepover.
And you don't mind. This is fun.
This is after the divorce. Dad lives in another part of
Helsinki. He thinks his kid should have more than one interest, so
he signs you up for basketball, his favorite sport. This is a disaster.
You're the runt of the team. After a season and a half, you use all
sorts of nasty language to tell him you're quitting, that basketball
is
his
sport, not yours. Your new half-brother, Leo, will be more
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J u s t fo r F u n
athletic. Then, too, he will eventually become Lutheran, like 90
percent of the Finnish population. That's when Dad, the staunch
agnostic, realized he might be a failure as a parent-something he
suspected years earlier, when Sara joined the Catholic church.
The grandfather with the computer isn't really a jolly sort.
He's balding, slightly overweight. He literally is something of an
absent-minded professor and kind of hard to approach. He's just
not an extrovert. Picture a mathematician who would stare out into
space and not say anything while he was thinking about some
thing. You could never tell what he was thinking about. Complex
ity analysis? Mrs. Sammalkorpi down the hall? I'm the same
way-famous for zoning out. When I'm sitting in front of the
computer, I get really upset and irritable if somebody disturbs me.
Tove could elaborate on this point.
My most vivid memories of Morfar take place not at his
computer but at his little red cottage. In Helsinki it used to be
common for people to keep a small summer place consisting of
maybe a single thirty-foot by thirty-foot room. The little houses
are on a tiny plot of land, maybe 1 50 square feet, and people go
there to tinker in their gardens. They typically have an apartment
in the city and then this little place to grow potatoes or tend a few
apple trees or cultivate roses. It's usually older people because
younger ones are busy working. These people get ridiculously
competitive about whatever it is they are growing. That's where
Morfar planted my apple tree, a small sapling. Maybe it's still
there, unless it became so abundant that an envious neighbor
snuck onto his property during the brief summer darkness and
chopped it down.
Four years after introducing me to computers, Morfar devel
ops a blood clot in his brain and becomes paralyzed on one side. It's
a shock to everyone. He's in the hospital for about a year and he's
the closest family you have, but it doesn't affect you that much.
Maybe it's defensive or maybe it's just because you're so insensitive
when you're young. He is absolutely not the same person anymore
L i n u J To r v a ldJ a n d D a v i d D i a m o n d
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and you don't like going to see him. You go maybe every two
weeks. Your mother goes more often. So does your sister, who early
on assumed the role of the family social worker.
After he dies, the machine comes to live with you. There
isn't any real discussion about it.
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j u s t fo r F u n
IV.
Let's step back for a moment.
Finland might be the hippest country on Earth right now,
but centuries ago, it was little more than a stopover for Vikings as
they "traded" with Constantinople. Later, when the neighboring
Swedes wanted to pacify the Finns, they sent in English-born
Bishop Henry, who arrived in the year 1 1 5 5 on a mission for the
Catholic church. Those proselytizing Swedes manned the Finnish
fortresses to ward off the Russians, and eventually won against the
empire to our East in the struggle for control. To spur population
of the Finnish colony in the following centuries, Swedes were
offered land and tax incentives. Swedes ran the show until 1 7 14,
when Russia took over for a seven-year interlude. Then Sweden
won back its colony until 1 809, when Russia and Napoleon
attacked Finland; it remained under Russian control until the
Communist Revolution in 1 9 1 7 . Meanwhile, the descendants of
the early Swedish immigrants are the 3 5 0 ,000 Swedish speakers in
Finland today, a group that represents about five percent of the
population.
Including my wacky family.
My maternal great-grandfather was a relatively poor farmer
from Jappo, a small town near the city of Vasa. He had six sons, at
least two of whom earned Ph.D.'s. That says a lot about the
prospects for advancement in Finland. Yes, you get sick of the win
ter darkness and taking off your shoes upon entering a house. But
you can get a university education for free. It's a far cry from what
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