Handwriting
by David Barth
written January 12, 2007
Handwriting is a very personal aspect of life. Handwritten letters carry a more personalized message than typed letters, especially in view of the mass distribution
capabilities the computer provides. Some persons claim that they can build a psychological profile of a person by analyzing their handwriting. My handwriting has
evolved from two primary forces.
The First Force:
I tend to be methodical. The saying, "A place for everything and everything in its place," fits my handwriting in that I try to make standardized alphabetical letters. I
try to make my "M" always look like an "M." Also, my desire is to serve people, so I try to support others by making my handwriting readable to them. This force was
present at an early age, when I began to learn to write. I learned to write lower and upper case letters, as they were shown on the templates hung on the wall above the
blackboards in the first grade of primary school.
The Second Force:
This force consisted of writing in all-capital letters, and trying to make them as readable as possible. It began when I became a computer programmer. This force no
longer applies in this era of computer keyboards where nearly all code is typed, not handwritten. When I started out in the computer field, there were no keyboards or
displays. The man-machine interface was through punch cards. Programmers wrote code on coding sheets. A coding sheet consisted of lines, each line divided into
80, one-character slots. Punch cards had 80 columns, and the coding sheets matched the card layout. Because the computers of the era understood only capital
letters, programmers coded in capitals. In fact, the first computer screens displayed only capital letters, in green, on a black background. Lower case letters were
unknown in the computer world at the time.
When a beginning programmer began coding, he would often scribble the code onto the coding sheet. The coding sheet was passed to a keypuncher who would key
the code into punch cards. Keypunchers usually didn't have time to try to decode hieroglyphics, so if they couldn’t read a word, they keyed it as accurately as they
could, guessing at what it might be, and this often resulted in erroneous data on the punch card.
When all of the coding lines had been punched, the keypuncher returned the coding sheets and the card deck to the programmer. The programmer submitted the card
deck to the computer room to be compiled. Depending on the workload, the turnaround for a compilation could be 24 to 48 hours. In my experience, programmers
usually got their computer output the next day. This output consisted of the following:
- A printout of the code and its translation into machine language, all in upper case, on 132 column, pin feed, continuous form, green bar paper.
- A new card deck of the machine language code that could be fed into the computer for execution of the program code.
- The returned coding card deck that had been submitted.
The printout displayed any syntax errors in the code. For example, if a programmer misspelled a word so that it was unrecognizable by the compiler software, it would be
flagged on the printout as an error. The programmer would find the associated card in the keypunched deck, and either make the correction himself by using a keypunch
machine to create a new card, or he would give the keypuncher a corrected coding sheet so that a replacement card could be created. The new card was placed into the
original coding deck and returned to the computer room for processing within 24 to 48 hours. The number of errors in the printout depended on how well the keypuncher
could read the coded writing, and how accurately the keypuncher typed.
As for keypuncher accuracy, programmers got to know who the most accurate keypunchers were. Normally, accuracy was valued more than speed because errors
required rework. A printout with a lot of errors took time to clean up. Experienced programmers began to value "first compile perfect" results which indicated that not
only had they not made any coding mistakes, but their writing had been sufficiently readable for the keypuncher, and the keypuncher had made no mistakes. Generally,
experienced keypunchers made very few mistakes, and nearly all syntax errors on the computer printout were those of the programmer.
As a result of my early endeavors to create clean code, I realized that one factor in the man-machine loop that I could control was my writing. I began to write as
carefully as possible so that there would be no mistaking a word that I wrote. The care I took in writing was reinforced when, upon several occasions, keypunchers
complimented the clarity of my writing.
Since coding was all upper case, I began to write in upper case all the time, whether it was coding a program or writing a note. As a result, I lost the ability to write
easily and quickly in lower case or in a mix of upper and lower case. To this day, I find it difficult to write lower case letters. When I need to distinguish between upper
and lower case letters, such as is required when a password contains letters in both cases, I use the stenographer's capital identification which is three underlines
below the letters that are to be capitalized. Capital letters I write that do not have the three underlines, may be considered to be lower case.
This has caused me trouble writing code in classes for newer languages that use both upper and lower case. I can write much faster and accurately in upper case as
a result of my early days coding and the fact that I continued to write that way for everything.
Occasionally, I take notes to condense information for my own use, and one time, after making several pages of notes, a coworker complemented my writing by
exclaiming that it looked like a computer printout!
I rarely use script writing because mine is less readable that my printing. Script is a means of attaching letters together to facilitate faster writing. I use a similar
method when printing, except that I lift the pencil or pen off of the paper between letters. I can print as fast as I can write in script.
Does it bother me to try to read someone else's writing that is not always very clear? Absolutely not! I accept it as a challenge to squeeze meaning from writing
that might be considered hieroglyphics by someone else.