The Unix API is the closest thing to a hardware-independent standard for writing truly portable software that exists. It is no accident that what the IEEE originally called the Portable Operating System Standard quickly got a suffix added to its acronym and became POSIX. A Unix-equivalent API was the only credible model for such a standard.
Doug McIlroy (invertor of Pipes): This is the Unix philosophy: Write programs that do one thing and do it well. Write programs to work together. Write programs to handle text streams, because that is a universal interface.
Rob Pike (Master of C): Data dominates. If you’ve chosen the right data structures and organized things well, the algorithms will almost always be self-evident. Data structures, not algorithms, are central to programming.
Rule of Repair: When you must fail, fail noisily and as soon as possible.
Rule of Modularity: Write simple parts connected by clean interfaces. The only way to write complex software that won’t fall on its face is to hold its global complexity down — to build it out of simple parts connected by well-defined interfaces, so that most problems are local and you can have some hope of upgrading a part without breaking the whole.
Rule of Separation: Separate policy from mechanism; separate interfaces from engines. Another way is to separate your application into cooperating front-end and back-end processes communicating through a specialized application protocol over sockets; we discuss this kind of design in Chapter 5 and Chapter 7. The front end implements policy; the back end, mechanism. The global complexity of the pair will often be far lower than that of a single-process monolith implementing the same functions, reducing your vulnerability to bugs and lowering life-cycle costs.
Rule of Representation: Fold knowledge into data, so program logic can be stupid and robust. Data is more tractable than program logic. It follows that where you see a choice between complexity in data structures and complexity in code, choose the former. More: in evolving a design, you should actively seek ways to shift complexity from code to data.
Rule of Silence: When a program has nothing surprising to say, it should say nothing. One of Unix’s oldest and most persistent design rules is that when a program has nothing interesting or surprising to say, it should shut up. Well-behaved Unix programs do their jobs unobtrusively, with a minimum of fuss and bother. Silence is golden.
Rule of Optimization: Prototype before polishing. Get it working before you optimize it.
Rule of Extensibility: Design for the future, because it will be here sooner than you think. If it is unwise to trust other people’s claims for “one true way”, it’s even more foolish to believe them about your own designs. Never assume you have the final answer. Therefore, leave room for your data formats and code to grow; otherwise, you will often find that you are locked into unwise early choices because you cannot change them while maintaining backward compatibility.
To do the Unix philosophy right, you have to be loyal to excellence. You have to believe that software design is a craft worth all the intelligence, creativity, and passion you can muster. Otherwise you won’t look past the easy, stereotyped ways of approaching design and implementation; you’ll rush into coding when you should be thinking. You’ll carelessly complicate when you should be relentlessly simplifying — and then you’ll wonder why your code bloats and debugging is so hard.
Software design and implementation should be a joyous art, a kind of high-level play.
If this attitude seems preposterous or vaguely embarrassing to you, stop and think; ask yourself what you’ve forgotten. Why do you design software instead of doing something else to make money or pass the time? You must have thought software was worthy of your passion once....
To do the Unix philosophy right, you need to have (or recover) that attitude. You need to care. You need to play. You need to be willing to explore.