Discussing the St. Ignucius persona afterward, Stallman says he first came up with it in 1996, long after the creation of Emacs but well before the emergence of the “open source” term and the struggle for hacker-community leadership that precipitated it. At the time, Stallman says, he wanted a way to “poke fun at himself”, to remind listeners that, though stubborn, Stallman was not the fanatic some made him out to be. It was only later, Stallman adds, that others seized the persona as a convenient way to play up his reputation as software ideologue, as Eric Raymond did in an 1999 interview with the linux.com web site:
When I say RMS calibrates what he does, I’m not belittling or accusing him of insincerity. I’m saying that like all good communicators he’s got a theatrical streak. Sometimes it’s conscious-have you ever seen him in his St. Ignucius drag, blessing software with a disk platter on his head? Mostly it’s unconscious; he’s just learned the degree of irritating stimulus that works, that holds attention without (usually) freaking people out.[5]
Stallman takes issue with the Raymond analysis. “It’s simply my way of making fun of myself”, he says. “The fact that others see it as anything more than that is a reflection of their agenda, not mine”.
That said, Stallman does admit to being a ham. “Are you kidding?” he says at one point. “I love being the center of attention”. To facilitate that process, Stallman says he once enrolled in Toastmasters, an organization that helps members bolster their public-speaking skills and one Stallman recommends highly to others. He possesses a stage presence that would be the envy of most theatrical performers and feels a link to vaudevillians of years past. A few days after the Maui High Performance Computing Center speech, I allude to the 1999 LinuxWorld performace and ask Stallman if he has a Groucho Marx complex-i.e., the unwillingness to belong to any club that would have him as a member. Stallman’s response is immediate: “No, but I admire Groucho Marx in a lot of ways and certainly have been in some things I say inspired by him. But then I’ve also been inspired in some ways by Harpo”.
The Groucho Marx influence is certainly evident in Stallman’s lifelong fondness for punning. Then again, punning and wordplay are common hacker traits. Perhaps the most Groucho-like aspect of Stallman’s personality, however, is the deadpan manner in which the puns are delivered. Most come so stealthily-without even the hint of a raised eyebrow or upturned smile-you almost have to wonder if Stallman’s laughing at his audience more than the audience is laughing at him.
Watching members of the Maui High Performance Computer Center laugh at the St. Ignucius parody, such concerns evaporate. While not exactly a standup act, Stallman certainly possesses the chops to keep a roomful of engineers in stitches. “To be a saint in the Church of Emacs does not require celibacy, but it does require making a commitment to living a life of moral purity”, he tells the Maui audience. “You must exorcise the evil proprietary operating system from all your computer and then install a wholly [holy] free operating system. And then you must install only free software on top of that. If you make this commitment and live by it, then you too will be a saint in the Church of Emacs, and you too may have a halo”.
The St. Ignucius skit ends with a brief inside joke. On most Unix systems and Unix-related offshoots, the primary competitor program to Emacs is vi, a text-editing program developed by former UC Berkeley student and current Sun Microsystems chief scientist, Bill Joy. Before doffing his “halo”, Stallman pokes fun at the rival program. “People sometimes ask me if it is a sin in the Church of Emacs to use vi”, he says. “Using a free version of vi is not a sin; it is a penance. So happy hacking”.
After a brief question-and-answer session, audience members gather around Stallman. A few ask for autographs. “I’ll sign this”, says Stallman, holding up one woman’s print out of the GNU General Public License, “but only if you promise me to use the term GNU/Linux instead of Linux and tell all your friends to do likewise”.
The comment merely confirms a private observation. Unlike other stage performers and political figures, Stallman has no “off” mode. Aside from the St. Ignucius character, the ideologue you see onstage is the ideologue you meet backstage. Later that evening, during a dinner conversation in which a programmer mentions his affinity for “open source” programs, Stallman, between bites, upbraids his tablemate: “You mean free software. That’s the proper way to refer to it”.
During the question-and-answer session, Stallman admits to playing the pedagogue at times. “There are many people who say, `Well, first let’s invite people to join the community, and then let’s teach them about freedom.’ And that could be a reasonable strategy, but what we have is almost everybody’s inviting people to join the community, and hardly anybody’s teaching them about freedom once they come in”.
The result, Stallman says, is something akin to a third-world city. People move in, hoping to strike it rich or at the very least to take part in a vibrant, open culture, and yet those who hold the true power keep evolving new tricks and strategies-i.e., software patents-to keep the masses out. “You have millions of people moving in and building shantytowns, but nobody’s working on step two: getting them out of those shantytowns. If you think talking about software freedom is a good strategy, please join in doing step two. There are plenty working on step one. We need more people working on step two”.
Working on “step two” means driving home the issue that freedom, not acceptance, is the root issue of the free software movement. Those who hope to reform the proprietary software industry from the inside are on a fool’s errand. “Change from the inside is risky”, Stallman stays. “Unless you’re working at the level of a Gorbachev, you’re going to be neutralized”.
Hands pop up. Stallman points to a member of the golf shirt-wearing contingent. “Without patents, how would you suggest dealing with commercial espionage?”
“Well, those two questions have nothing to do with each other, really”, says Stallman.
“But I mean if someone wants to steal another company’s piece of software”.
Stallman’s recoils as if hit by a poisonous spray. “Wait a second”, Stallman says. “Steal? I’m sorry, there’s so much prejudice in that statement that the only thing I can say is that I reject that prejudice. Companies that develop nonfree software and other things keep lots and lots of trade secrets, and so that’s not really likely to change. In the old days-even in the 1980s-for the most part programmers were not aware that there were even software patents and were paying no attention to them. What happened was that people published the interesting ideas, and if they were not in the free software movement, they kept secret the little details. And now they patent those broad ideas and keep secret the little details. So as far as what you’re describing, patents really make no difference to it one way or another”.
“But if it doesn’t affect their publication”, a new audience member jumps in, his voice trailing off almost as soon as he starts speaking.
“But it does”, Stallman says. “Their publication is telling you that this is an idea that’s off limits to the rest of the community for 20 years. And what the hell good is that? Besides, they’ve written it in such a hard way to read, both to obfuscate the idea and to make the patent as broad as possible, that it’s basically useless looking at the published information to learn anything anyway. The only reason to look at patents is to see the bad news of what you can’t do”.
