Curiosity killed the cat
I’ve been reminiscing about a peculiar personality trait of mine. For some reason, I’m never really satisfied with accepting how or why something works. One prominent example is the way that I learned HTML. I started, like most beginners, by playing with a WYSIWYG (pronounced “wizzy-wig”) editor. I could drop things into place, and the page would display. It was a pretty easy way of doing things, and from what I’ve seen of other web-designers over time, very few people ever leave that realm. Most of them eventually graduate to newer and better WYSIWYGs, and some will inevitably pick up a rudimentary understanding of the HTML code. However, I can’t really say I’ve ever known anyone who is so adamantly code based as I am. I have hacked copies of the latest versions of Dreamweaver and GoLive, which are purportedly some of the best WYSIWYGs available at any price, but I’m still happily coding away in Textpad and VI.
My code obsession may simply be a remnant of my CS background, in that true coders work with code and not with clunky editors. And I’ll admit my adherence to code purity is basically what drives this site, more than pretty much anything else. It’s a way of proving to myself that I can do it as well or better than any WYSIWYG developer. I also feel that my affinity for code makes me better than a comparably talented WYSIWYG developer, simply because I have greater control over the final output of my design. It may take more time, but I can design a faster, leaner, and cleaner result.
But my obsession doesn’t really stop at coding. I’ve been studying for the A+ exam of late, and spending a fair amount of time looking at all the history of computer hardware. I have this overwhelming desire to wire up an old 8088 processor (something about as old as I am) to a series of inputs just so I can have a better understanding of how microprocessors do what they do. Or in the mechanical arena, I’ve been reading what I can find on the internal combustion engine, so that I can really understand how my car runs. Or how those neat new liquid plasma displays work.
I also tend to apply my intellect to social endeavors. I’ve been reading some game theory and beefing up my economics background to better understand why some people make the choices they do. Or looking into psychology for a different perspective.
The drawback to this little personality quirk is I tend to take things a little too far. In the coding realm, I sacrifice a substantial chunk of my time in order to learn some small little tidbit. My A+ exam studies have stagnated somewhat because I would rather have a complete understanding of how the microprocessor works rather than move on to other applicable topics. The simple breadth of my rampant curiosity results in an erratic and chaotic jumble of new ideas, but doesn’t result in any substantial benefit.
The social arena is probably the worst, because I spend nearly all my time analyzing my social encounters instead of actually living them. One reason I’ve withdrawn from social interaction is that I never really seem to go anywhere even when I do put myself out there. I’m always the scientist studying my subjects rather than actually experimenting.
The ultimate question, of course, is whether this curiosity has a net good or net bad effect on my life. The pursuit of knowledge is admirable, and will undoubtedly serve me well in a wide variety of future areas, but is the corresponding detachment going to obviate whatever gains I make?