ADA LOVELACE

Could our computer age have begun a century earlier? A thought experiment.

The pervasive transformation of our societies since the inception of these machines in the mid-20th century is within living memory. Science, mathematics, business, government, and technology soon experienced discontinuities. Jobs, education, language, and communication methods were affected. Productivity rose and wealth grew, if unevenly.

Singularities have long been evident in nature, probably beginning with the Big Bang, around 13.7 billion years ago. Our planetary home has existed for about one-third of this period, a product of chance events in a celestial shooting gallery that created both Earth and our vital partner, the Moon. More recently, another chance occurrence, a large asteroid strike, affected climate and vegetation sufficiently to doom the dinosaurs, creating an opportunity for mammals to evolve, eventually including our species.

From a geological perspective, our presence here is recent and paltry. Nonetheless, progress has been amazing. A tale of the last 100k years is laid out in Jimbo’s Assumption, recounted by a ubiquitous minder in a mere 100 seconds. Please take a look.

An unexpected question raised in the account considers the usefulness of steam engines to the Romans, had they been invented two millennia ago. Renowned as builders of infrastructure with a legacy extending from aqueducts through coliseums to walls keeping the barbarians at bay, it’s easy to imagine the value of steam power then. Doubtless, the Roman military would also have harnessed such a resource. Imaginable, but improbable. Credits include a rudimentary steam turbine demonstrated in the era. Various recognisable mechanical linkages had been devised and deployed in water mills. On the debit side, an absence of advanced materials, steels or maybe ceramics, capable of enduring high-temperature operating conditions would be a showstopper. Similarly, the lack of precision metal-cutting processes would have been insurmountable. Most fundamental, though, was the want of a theory. With the science of thermodynamics yet to emerge, no recognition of steam power’s capacity and limits could exist.

Advancing roughly two millennia towards the present-day, how about 19th century computers? As fantastical as Roman steam engines, or a convincing proposition?

Babbage is the name forever linked with such notions. Framed as the ‘grandfather of computing’ by some, Charles Babbage was a polymath who engaged in astronomy, mathematics, mechanical engineering, and economics. Born in 1791 CE into a wealthy family and educated at Cambridge University, he had the talent, energy, and time for radical thoughts. After university, he dabbled in various fields and continued cooperating with the noteworthy John Herschel, a redoubtable mathematician, whose father first isolated the planet we know as Uranus. Their shared passion for astronomy led in 1820 CE to the founding of the Royal Astronomical Society. Before then, Babbage’s need for accurate logarithmic tables stimulated him to ponder a machine that could produce these values rapidly and faultlessly. Helpful to astronomers, but actuaries and navigators used numerical tables, too.

His contemplations led to the Difference Engine, a machine that could calculate successive polynomial results purely by addition. The ‘method of divided differences’, known to Isaac Newton, generations earlier. A prototype, demonstrated in 1822 CE, received acclamation, leading to government funding for a larger machine. A succession of unhappy events ensued, including the death of Babbage’s wife and two of his children, and slow progress with the project. Government confidence, not so much in the technology as with the execution of the venture, gradually ebbed. Support formally ended after two decades and much procrastination, but practical progress ceased in 1834 CE. Public funding of £17k had been expended (circa two million GBP today), along with Babbage’s personal contributions. The end of the story? Not really. This setback merely paved the way for a more ambitious vision.

A creative and striving character, Babbage had already begun work on designing a grander machine, still a mechanical system, but one recognisable as possessing the features of a full-scope computer. The Analytical Engine. Although it never progressed beyond detailed drawings, concepts such as sequential control, programmable loops, and memory were embodied. Operations were driven by punched cards, proven in Jacquard looms used in textile manufacture.

Eschewing further government involvement, Babbage promoted his design in various scientific forums, perhaps hoping to gain private support. In 1842 CE, this brought him to Turin, where his presentation was attended by Luigi Menabrea, an engineer and soldier, and subsequently, Prime Minister of Italy. A summary of the discourse, written in French, which described the Analytical Engine’s functionality was published by Menabrea.

Lady Ada Lovelace prepared an English translation. Her linguistic skills were manifest, but more remarkable was the content of her annotations. Immediately clear was a depth of understanding of the Engine’s operation and, significantly, its potential. She discerned it as being more than a calculating device, in effect a general-purpose computer. Underlining her cognisance, she attached the punched card logic required to calculate a sequence of Bernoulli numbers. Lovelace qualifies as our first computer programmer.

Lovelace’s life, though short, was eventful but beyond the scope of this missive. Her father, Lord Byron, widely lauded for his poetry in England and revered as a freedom-fighter in Greece, died when she was aged eight. Mathematics became a distraction, pursued despite bouts of illness.  In 1833 CE, as an 18-year-old, she visited Babbage in London and was captivated by the Difference Engine concept. This bolstered her mathematical appetite. Despite marriage and children, Lovelace maintained contact with Babbage, who later found her a distinguished tutor, the respected Augustus De Morgan.

Babbage’s social circle, which involved Lovelace and her husband, included Darwin, Dickens, Faraday, and Nightingale, celebrities of the age. She remained focussed, in contrast to the inventive but erratic Babbage, apparently never losing sight of the Analytical Engine’s prospects. In 1843 CE, she wrote to Babbage in the convoluted contemporary style, proposing a formal role on the project team: in today’s terms, perhaps she would become the Operations Director, responsible for delivery, leaving Babbage as Technical Director, attending to the technology. After some back and forth, he seems to have agreed.

Sadly, it was not to be. Life, family, and health intervened. Diagnosed with cancer, Ada died in November 1852, after enduring terrible pain. Like her father, she expired, aged 36. It took over a century for the world to fully appreciate the profound insights of this remarkable woman.

Her contributions are marked with a computer language developed for the US Government late in the 20th century: Ada. She also stars in an unusual 1997 CE sci-fi film: Conceiving Ada.

Returning to the engineering:

What might have been? Had Lovelace lived, would the Analytical Engine have materialised? Most probably…. Yes!

A longer project timeline than the three years they considered, with setbacks, design changes, and budgetary challenges, but Babbage’s brilliance allied with Lovelace’s perseverance would have won through. The result: a large contrivance, perhaps occupying a Victorian ballroom, with tens of thousands of components. Reliability might have been an issue. Likely, a skilled maintenance team standing by. Extrapolating, the telegraph was operating by then, sending information as impulses through wires. If adopted, electromechanical technology would have simplified the machine, improving reliability and maybe accelerating computations.

RNP – The upcoming sequel to Jimbo’s Assumption reflects on the contributions of both Babbage and Lovelace. Meantime, check out the Difference Engine at the Science Museum!