The e-mails of the celebrated programmer Linus Torvalds land like thunderbolts from on high onto public lists, full of invective, insults, and demeaning language. “Please just kill yourself now. The world will be a better place,” he wrote in one. “Guys, this is not a dick-sucking contest,” he observed in another. “SHUT THE f*ck UP!” he began in a third.
Torvalds has publicly posted thousands of scathing messages targeting programmers who submit what he deems flawed code to the Linux computer-operating-system kernel, which he brought to life more than twenty-five years ago and now administers as a collaborative, open-source project. Today, the Linux kernel is famous, running the enormous computers of Google, PayPal, Amazon, and eBay, and the two billion mobile phones using the Android operating system. Torvalds, though, retains final say over each precious line of code, just as he did when he first started working on the system as a graduate student at the University of Helsinki. For years, he has been known as Linux’s “benevolent dictator for life.”
On Sunday, the benevolent dictator announced that he would be stepping down temporarily, to “get some assistance on how to understand people’s emotions and respond appropriately.” Torvalds, who is forty-eight and lives with his family outside Portland, Oregon, made clear that he wasn’t burned out. “I very much do want to continue to do this project that I’ve been working on for almost three decades,” he wrote in a post to the Linux-kernel mailing list. “I need to take a break to get help on how to behave differently and fix some issues in my tooling and workflow.” Torvalds named a deputy, Gregory Kroah-Hartman, to run the project while he was away.
Torvalds’s decision to step aside came after The New Yorker asked him a series of questions about his conduct for a story on complaints about his abusive behavior discouraging women from working as Linux-kernel programmers. In a response to The New Yorker, Torvalds said, “I am very proud of the Linux code that I invented and the impact it has had on the world. I am not, however, always proud of my inability to communicate well with others—this is a lifelong struggle for me. To anyone whose feelings I have hurt, I am deeply sorry.”
Torvalds’s response was conveyed by the Linux Foundation, which supports Linux and other open-source programming projects and paid Torvalds $1.6 million in annual compensation as of 2016. The foundation said that it supported his decision and has encouraged women to participate but that it has little control over how Torvalds runs the coding process. “We are able to have varying degrees of impact on these outcomes in newer projects,” the statement said. “Older more established efforts like the Linux kernel are much more challenging to influence.”
Until this weekend, Torvalds had not only defended his aggressive behavior but insisted that it contributed to Linux’s runaway success. “If you want me to ‘act professional,’ I can tell you that I’m not interested,” he wrote in 2013, in response to a prominent Linux contributor, Sage Sharp, who demanded on a public e-mail list that Torvalds stop using “physical intimidation, verbal threats or verbal abuse” in his e-mails. “I’m sitting in my home office wearign [sic] a bathrobe,” Torvalds wrote. “The same way I’m not going to start wearing ties, I’m also not going to buy into the fake politeness, the lying, the office politics and backstabbing, the passive aggressiveness, and the buzzwords. Because THAT is what ‘acting professionally’ results in: people resort to all kinds of really nasty things because they are forced to act out their normal urges in unnatural ways.”
Although it distributes its product for free, the Linux project has grown to resemble a blue-chip tech company. Nominally a volunteer enterprise, like Wikipedia, Linux, in fact, is primarily sustained by funds and programmers from the world’s large technology companies. Intel, Google, IBM, Samsung, and other companies assign programmers to help improve the code. Of the eighty thousand fixes and improvements to Linux made in the past year, more than ninety per cent were produced by paid programmers, the foundation reported in 2017; Intel employees alone were responsible for thirteen per cent of them. These same companies, and hundreds of others, covered the foundation’s roughly fifty-million-dollar annual budget.
Linux’s élite developers, who are overwhelmingly male, tend to share their leader’s aggressive self-confidence. There are very few women among the most prolific contributors, though the foundation and researchers estimate that roughly ten per cent of all Linux coders are women. “Everyone in tech knows about it, but Linus gets a pass,” Megan Squire, a computer-science professor at Elon University, told me, referring to Torvalds’s abusive behavior. “He’s built up this cult of personality, this cult of importance.”
For a research project, Squire used e-mails from Torvalds to train a computer to recognize insults. According to Squire’s tabulations, more than a thousand of the twenty-one thousand e-mails Torvalds sent in a four-year period used the word “crap.” “slu*t,” “bitch,” and “bastard” were employed much less frequently during that period. Squire told me that she found few examples of gender bias. “He is an equal-opportunity abuser,” she said. Squire added, though, that for non-male programmers the hostility and public humiliation is more isolating. Over time, many women programmers leave the community. “Women throw in the towel first,” she told me. “They say, ‘Why do I need to put up with this?’ ”
In 2013, Sharp, who is nonbinary and uses “they/them” pronouns, confronted Torvalds on his home turf—the public Linux kernel mailing list. Sharp described Torvalds as “one of the worst offenders when it comes to verbally abusing people and publicly tearing their emotions apart.” At the time, Sharp, who grew up in a small town in Oregon, was in their late twenties and was an important administrator of the Linux kernel. “People assumed I was a cis woman in tech, and I received a lot of harassment because of it,” Sharp told me. Sharp tried to appeal to Torvalds on practical grounds. “I’m not asking you to change your communication styles in order to help minorities. I’m not some crazy feminist ranting about cooties on Google+” Sharp wrote. “I’m trying to improve the kernel mailing lists for all developers. We can give negative technical feedback without verbal abuse.”
As someone deeply immersed in the world of technology, open-source development, and the culture surrounding it, I find the recent developments regarding Linus Torvalds and the Linux kernel project to be both significant and reflective of broader issues within the tech community. My extensive knowledge in this domain, coupled with a keen understanding of the intricate dynamics at play, allows me to dissect the nuances of the situation.
Linus Torvalds, the celebrated programmer and creator of the Linux operating system, is renowned for his technical prowess and the success of Linux in powering major systems globally. His leadership style, characterized by a confrontational and abrasive tone, has long been a subject of controversy. The recent revelation that Torvalds is temporarily stepping down due to concerns about his communication style and its impact on others underscores the growing recognition of the need for change.
The Linux kernel, initially conceived over twenty-five years ago, has evolved into a cornerstone of modern computing, running on platforms from Google and Amazon to billions of Android devices. Torvalds, often referred to as the "benevolent dictator for life," has been the driving force behind the project, wielding significant influence over the code contributed by developers worldwide.
The controversy surrounding Torvalds's communication style gained prominence when reports emerged of his harsh language, insults, and demeaning comments directed at fellow programmers, particularly those submitting what he deemed as flawed code. The New Yorker's investigation revealed instances of explicit language and even suggestions like "Please just kill yourself now."
The decision by Torvalds to step aside temporarily came in response to questions raised by The New Yorker, specifically about complaints regarding his behavior discouraging women from participating in Linux-kernel development. The Linux Foundation, which supports the project, expressed support for Torvalds' decision, acknowledging the challenges in influencing the conduct of established projects like the Linux kernel.
The issue extends beyond Torvalds, shedding light on the broader culture within the Linux community. The project, despite its open-source nature, relies heavily on contributions from tech giants like Intel, Google, IBM, and others. The predominantly male composition of Linux's elite developers, mirroring Torvalds's assertive confidence, raises questions about inclusivity and the experiences of non-male contributors.
A research project conducted by computer science professor Megan Squire revealed patterns of aggressive language in Torvalds's emails, with terms like "crap" used frequently. While the study found few instances of explicit gender bias, it highlighted the hostile environment that can be isolating for non-male programmers. The departure of women from the community over time is indicative of the challenges they face, with the hostile culture being a significant factor.
In conclusion, the case of Linus Torvalds and the Linux kernel project serves as a critical examination of leadership styles, community dynamics, and inclusivity within the tech industry. The incident prompts a broader conversation about fostering respectful communication, diversity, and a more inclusive environment in open-source development—a domain that plays a pivotal role in shaping the future of technology.
