Programmers think differently than non-programmers.

or

Singers think differently than non-singers

or

Stuffed animal enthusiasts think differently than non-enthusiasts

Jacques Mattehij wrote a post [here] about the way programmers think. He argues that programmers are analytical, but so are scientists; programmers are logical, but so are mathematicians; programmers are obsessive, but so are artists (he says scientists again, but I like this example better). 

Anyone can learn to program, Jacques points out, so programmers are surely not born thinking differently than the rest of the world. I completely agree.

Therefore, he concludes, programmers think no differently than non-programmers. That’s absurd.

His unstated assumption, I suspect, is that you will always think the way you thought when you were born. Thank god that is not true; babies are selfish, boring little bastards that think you disappear when you’re behind a blanket. Learning to program changes the way you think, along with learning Italian, learning to draw, and learning to figure skate. That’s what learning is: a change in the way you think and behave.

I am an artist and a programmer. Other artists have said to me in aggravation, “It’s a canvas, not a computer. It doesn’t have to make sense.” I continue to paint using the cognitive tools programming has given me; I suspect the other artists are wrong. Those artists are capable of logical thought. It would be silly to think otherwise. The way they think about logic is different however, as are the times they decide to use it consciously.

Similarly, I program slowly, because I am obsessive about the aesthetics of my code. “Just make it work,” other coders say, and I try to speed up — but I yearn for the same feeling of intuitive ‘rightness’ from my code as from my art. Those other programmers are capable of recognizing beauty, but they strive for beauty at different times and in different ways.

I would be a different person, and a different artist, if I did not program. 

I would be a different person, and a different programmer, if I did not make art.

The habits, analogies, and problem-solving strategies of different fields are different. That should not be a surprise. They sometimes overlap, and the more you learn, the more your mental tools leak from one field to another — and that is a good thing.

This is the obvious corollary to Sapir-Whorf: learning anything changes the way you think.

Posted on 15 January 2011