Writing vs. Programming

Two activities I enjoy doing are writing and computer programming. On the one hand, they do share a lot in common: both involve taking ideas and setting them down textually. Experientially, the two activities are very similar: sitting down at my desk, focusing on a topic, and typing the ideas which my mind produces onto the keyboard.

The huge difference between the two is the following.

With programming, what I want to produce is completely well-defined. A very specific problem needs to be solved, such as: display a list of names alphabetically in three columns, or compute the average of a group of numbers. So there is no question when I have reached my goal. In my mind, I know exactly what the result ought to look like. If my program is displaying the names in four columns instead of three, or if the columns are not balanced, I know I'm not done.  But when my program produces exactly the desired result, I know I am.

Actually, there is a second element involved in programming, which is efficiency. You can write a program which correctly performs the desired task, but this doesn't necessarily mean that your program is as efficient as it could be. Perhaps some part of your program takes more steps than it needs to. But in this aspect as well, I can generally tell when my program has reached the point where it is as efficient as it could possibly be.

When I have reached this point, I know that I am done, because the program does exactly what it is supposed to do, and does so in the most efficient way possible. There is nothing to improve. Time to move on to the next program.

There is no such "bull's eye" in writing. When I read over a passage that I've written, there is no such mental reaction which tells me whether or I have produced the desired product -- because in writing, there is no well-defined product! And therefore, instead of a simple "yes" or "no" reaction to the passage, the reaction is a continuum, ranging from highly satisfied to highly dissatisfied, including, of course, the infinite number of points in-between.

Of course, sometimes one reads over a passage that one has written, and will be so pleased with it that one knows that it is done. But more often than that, the reaction is neither a resounding "yes" nor a resounding "no". One wonders whether this phrase is awkward, whether that paragraph is too long, whether a certain part is unclear to the reader. Perhaps throwing in a metaphor here will make the passage more humorous. Should I use the first person here instead of the third person?

So, in dramatic contrast to the programmer, who can be absolutely certain that he is done with his task, the writer can potentially dwell ad infinitum on a passage.