When RMS insists that we talk about “computer users’ rights”, he’s issuing a dangerously attractive invitation to us to repeat old failures. It’s one we should reject-not because his principles are wrong, but because that kind of language, applied to software, simply does not persuade anybody but us. In fact, it confuses and repels most people outside our culture.[4]
Watching Stallman deliver his political message in person, it is hard to see anything confusing or repellent. Stallman’s appearance may seem off-putting, but his message is logical. When an audience member asks if, in shunning proprietary software, free software proponents lose the ability to keep up with the latest technological advancements, Stallman answers the question in terms of his own personal beliefs. “I think that freedom is more important than mere technical advance”, he says. “I would always choose a less advanced free program rather than a more advanced nonfree program, because I won’t give up my freedom for something like that. My rule is, if I can’t share it with you, I won’t take it”.
Such answers, however, reinforce the quasi-religious nature of the Stallman message. Like a Jew keeping kosher or a Mormon refusing to drink alcohol, Stallman paints his decision to use free software in the place of proprietary in the color of tradition and personal belief. As software evangelists go, Stallman avoids forcing those beliefs down listeners’ throats. Then again, a listener rarely leaves a Stallman speech not knowing where the true path to software righteousness lies.
As if to drive home this message, Stallman punctuates his speech with an unusual ritual. Pulling a black robe out of a plastic grocery bag, Stallman puts it on. Out of a second bag, he pulls a reflective yellow computer disk and places it on his head. The crowd lets out a startled laugh.
“I am St. Ignucius of the Church of Emacs”, says Stallman, raising his right hand in mock-blessing. “I bless your computer, my child”.
Stallman dressed as St. Ignucius.
Photo by Wouter van Oortmerssen.
The laughter turns into full-blown applause after a few seconds. As audience members clap, the computer disk on Stallman’s head catches the glare of an overhead light, eliciting a perfect halo effect. In the blink of an eye, Stallman goes from awkward haole to Russian religious icon.
“Emacs was initially a text editor”, says Stallman, explaining the getup. “Eventually it became a way of life for many and a religion for some. We call this religion the Church of Emacs”.
The skit is a lighthearted moment of self-pardoy, a humorous return-jab at the many people who might see Stallman’s form of software asceticism as religious fanaticism in disguise. It is also the sound of the other shoe dropping-loudly. It’s as if, in donning his robe and halo, Stallman is finally letting listeners of the hook, saying, “It’s OK to laugh. I know I’m weird”.
Discussing the St. Ignucius persona afterward, Stallman says he first came up with it in 1996, long after the creation of Emacs but well before the emergence of the “open source” term and the struggle for hacker-community leadership that precipitated it. At the time, Stallman says, he wanted a way to “poke fun at himself”, to remind listeners that, though stubborn, Stallman was not the fanatic some made him out to be. It was only later, Stallman adds, that others seized the persona as a convenient way to play up his reputation as software ideologue, as Eric Raymond did in an 1999 interview with the linux.com web site:
When I say RMS calibrates what he does, I’m not belittling or accusing him of insincerity. I’m saying that like all good communicators he’s got a theatrical streak. Sometimes it’s conscious-have you ever seen him in his St. Ignucius drag, blessing software with a disk platter on his head? Mostly it’s unconscious; he’s just learned the degree of irritating stimulus that works, that holds attention without (usually) freaking people out.[5]
Stallman takes issue with the Raymond analysis. “It’s simply my way of making fun of myself”, he says. “The fact that others see it as anything more than that is a reflection of their agenda, not mine”.
That said, Stallman does admit to being a ham. “Are you kidding?” he says at one point. “I love being the center of attention”. To facilitate that process, Stallman says he once enrolled in Toastmasters, an organization that helps members bolster their public-speaking skills and one Stallman recommends highly to others. He possesses a stage presence that would be the envy of most theatrical performers and feels a link to vaudevillians of years past. A few days after the Maui High Performance Computing Center speech, I allude to the 1999 LinuxWorld performace and ask Stallman if he has a Groucho Marx complex-i.e., the unwillingness to belong to any club that would have him as a member. Stallman’s response is immediate: “No, but I admire Groucho Marx in a lot of ways and certainly have been in some things I say inspired by him. But then I’ve also been inspired in some ways by Harpo”.
The Groucho Marx influence is certainly evident in Stallman’s lifelong fondness for punning. Then again, punning and wordplay are common hacker traits. Perhaps the most Groucho-like aspect of Stallman’s personality, however, is the deadpan manner in which the puns are delivered. Most come so stealthily-without even the hint of a raised eyebrow or upturned smile-you almost have to wonder if Stallman’s laughing at his audience more than the audience is laughing at him.
Watching members of the Maui High Performance Computer Center laugh at the St. Ignucius parody, such concerns evaporate. While not exactly a standup act, Stallman certainly possesses the chops to keep a roomful of engineers in stitches. “To be a saint in the Church of Emacs does not require celibacy, but it does require making a commitment to living a life of moral purity”, he tells the Maui audience. “You must exorcise the evil proprietary operating system from all your computer and then install a wholly [holy] free operating system. And then you must install only free software on top of that. If you make this commitment and live by it, then you too will be a saint in the Church of Emacs, and you too may have a halo”.
The St. Ignucius skit ends with a brief inside joke. On most Unix systems and Unix-related offshoots, the primary competitor program to Emacs is vi, a text-editing program developed by former UC Berkeley student and current Sun Microsystems chief scientist, Bill Joy. Before doffing his “halo”, Stallman pokes fun at the rival program. “People sometimes ask me if it is a sin in the Church of Emacs to use vi”, he says. “Using a free version of vi is not a sin; it is a penance. So happy hacking”.
After a brief question-and-answer session, audience members gather around Stallman. A few ask for autographs. “I’ll sign this”, says Stallman, holding up one woman’s print out of the GNU General Public License, “but only if you promise me to use the term GNU/Linux instead of Linux and tell all your friends to do likewise”.
The comment merely confirms a private observation. Unlike other stage performers and political figures, Stallman has no “off” mode. Aside from the St. Ignucius character, the ideologue you see onstage is the ideologue you meet backstage. Later that evening, during a dinner conversation in which a programmer mentions his affinity for “open source” programs, Stallman, between bites, upbraids his tablemate: “You mean free software. That’s the proper way to refer to it”.
During the question-and-answer session, Stallman admits to playing the pedagogue at times. “There are many people who say, `Well, first let’s invite people to join the community, and then let’s teach them about freedom.’ And that could be a reasonable strategy, but what we have is almost everybody’s inviting people to join the community, and hardly anybody’s teaching them about freedom once they come in”.