正文翻譯

What is the saddest part of being a programmer?

作為一個程序員最難過的部分是什么?

評論翻譯

Mehmet Fidanboylu
As I hit 40, I also hit a career ceiling. I enjoy what I do and it has gotten me far but no-one really cares about good code as long as it does the job.
I cannot grow in my current role unless I take on more leadership; something I am not interested in doing. So my peers, who would rather have meetings than write code, are now directors and VPs leaving me in the dust in terms of both compensation and influence.
I feel good on most days. My calendar is mostly clear of meetings and I can focus hours on end on what I enjoy and do best. However, once in a while, I get a ping from someone I knew a long time back and when I see their title, I feel a twinge.
We are nothing but machines that churn out code in an industry ultimately governed by those who are good with _people_ rather than with computers. That realization is the saddest thing about being a programmer for me.

到了40歲，我的職業(yè)生涯也達到了頂峰。我喜歡我所做的，它已經(jīng)讓我走了很遠，但沒有人真正關心好代碼，只要它能完成工作。
除非我承擔更多的領導職責，否則我無法在目前的角色上獲得成長，但對領導我不感興趣。因此，我那些寧愿開會而不愿寫代碼的同行們現(xiàn)在都成了董事和副總裁，在薪酬和影響力方面都讓我望塵莫及。
大多數(shù)時候我感覺很好。我的日程表上幾乎沒有會議，我可以連續(xù)幾個小時專注于我喜歡和做得最好的事情。然而，有時候，我會從很久以前認識的人那里收到訊息，當我看到他們的頭銜時，我感到一陣刺痛。
我們只不過是在一個最終由善于與人打交道、而非與計算機打交道的人管理的行業(yè)中、大量生產(chǎn)代碼的機器。對我來說，這種認識是做程序員最悲哀的事情。

Kurt Guntheroth
Some sad things about being a programmer:
My friend, who worked at Boeing, could pick his toddler up and point at an airplane flying overhead, and say, “See that? Daddy did that.” My work is invisible. Even if I could sneak my mom or my kid into the office, there would be nothing to show them.
The great-grandchildren of the engineers who built the George Washington Bridge (The Aurora bridge in Seattle) are still driving over that bridge. I’ve been retired for four years. Every line of code I ever wrote is now less than dust.
I worked for nine years keeping a company’s business management system going. When I did my work perfectly, I was invisible. The only time anyone knew I existed was when something failed, and all 100 of them were sitting at their desks with nothing to do. I earned my whole paycheck on two days a year when I got the system back up and running.
I am an artist with code. My code is beautiful, like an elegant mathematical proof. And like a mathematical proof, nobody cares. Software development is an art form so internal that only another practitioner can possibly appreciate it, and they never even see it unless there is a bug.

作為一名程序員的一些可悲的事情:
我的一個在波音公司工作的朋友，可以抱起他的小孩，指著一架從頭頂飛過的飛機說，“看到了嗎?爸爸制造的?！?而我的工作是無形的。即使我能把我媽媽或孩子偷偷帶進辦公室，也沒有什么東西可以給他們看。
建造喬治華盛頓大橋(西雅圖的奧羅拉大橋)的工程師的曾孫們現(xiàn)在還在這座橋上開車。我已經(jīng)退休四年了。我寫過的每一行代碼現(xiàn)在都一文不值了。
我為一個公司的業(yè)務管理系統(tǒng)工作了9年。當我完成我的工作時，我是透明的。唯一一次有人知道我的存在是在某件事失敗的時候，那100個人都坐在他們的辦公桌前無所事事。
我是一寫代碼的藝術家。我的代碼很漂亮，就像一段優(yōu)雅的數(shù)學證明。并且就像數(shù)學證明一樣，沒人在乎。 軟件開發(fā)是一種內(nèi)部的藝術形式，只有其他從業(yè)者才能欣賞它，除非存在bug，否則他們甚至不會看到它。

John Smith
I don’t know about the saddest, but here is list of frustrations that I have experienced over the years:
You just wrote the most elegant, ingenious piece of code and you can’t share your accomplishment it with your wife, kid, parents, or friends. It’s meaningless to most people outside of your profession
Same goes for your biggest struggles, failures, hilarious Dilbert moments, etc.
Your managers are usually not technical and only have a vague idea of what you do. Your best work is indistinguishable from a hack. Most of them don’t care how it’s done, as long as it’s done on time
While you may be respected and treated nicely, at the end of the day, you are simply a resource, an asset, a workhorse. Your boss will decide what you do, how you do it, and how your time is allocated without asking how you feel about it. I realize this is not unique to programming, but it is a general grievance with the corporate world
You can be the most intelligent, articulate, person in the world, but if your senior management wants to know who on the team deserves a promotion or “needs improvement”, they will simply consult with your immediate manager. He may be the most incompetent, useless person there, but as far as they are concerned, he is the only one they need to consult and you should stay out of it while “adults” are talking and deciding your fate
Don’t get me wrong, as a programmer, you are still better off than most working stiffs in the corporate world, but it’s not all roses and unicorns. You may be well compensated and have a lot of job opportunities, but it doesn’t make it any less painful. You still have to deal with this crap. Money is just a deodorant

我不知道什么是最悲哀的，但這里列出了我多年來經(jīng)歷的挫折:
你剛剛寫了一段最優(yōu)雅、最巧妙的代碼，而你卻不能與你的妻子、孩子、父母或朋友分享你的成就。這對你們行業(yè)之外的人來說毫無意義
同樣的道理也適用于你最大的掙扎、失敗、滑稽的出丑時刻。
你的經(jīng)理通常不懂技術，對你的工作只有一個模糊的概念。你最好的作品和蹩腳的作品沒什么區(qū)別。他們中的大多數(shù)人并不關心如何完成，只要按時完成就好。
雖然你可能會受到尊重和善待，但歸根結(jié)底，你只是一種資源，一種資產(chǎn)，一匹馱馬。你的老板會決定你做什么，你怎么做，你的時間如何分配，而不需要問你的感受。我意識到這并不是編程所獨有的，這是企業(yè)界普遍的不滿。
你可能是世界上最聰明、最善于表達的人，但如果你的高級管理人員想知道團隊中誰值得升職或“需要改進”，他們只會與你的直接主管商量。他可能是那里最無能、最沒用的人，但就他們而言，他是他們唯一需要咨詢的人，當“成年人”在討論和決定你的命運時，你卻只能置身事外。
不要誤解我的意思，作為一名程序員，你仍然比大多數(shù)在公司工作的人過得更好，但這份工作也不是所有的玫瑰和獨角獸。你可能會得到豐厚的報酬，有很多工作機會，但這并不能減輕你的痛苦。你還是得處理這些破事。金錢只是一種除臭劑。