According to Steven Levy’s Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution, a “true hacker” does not mean the malicious technical savant that is often portrayed in media, such as USA Network’s Mr. Robot or the 1999 hit blockbuster The Matrix, but is someone that takes the resources they are given, whether that be a computer system, a model train set, or what have you, and find new ways to manipulate their system. While “manipulate” also carries a negative connotation colloquially, it means using craftiness and advanced skills to change the application of such systems in this context. For example, in the age of early computers, where accessible programs are few and far between, a “hacker”, such as Peter Samson, could take what they know about how the TX-0 processes input data to have it play music, an unintended affect by the original creators.
Additionally, hackers believe that all information should be open-source and free, so that anybody else can study such techniques and admire or improve upon it. This idea allows many different minds and viewpoints observe some information and either contribute to the overall goal or apply it for their own benefit. It is a communal mindset that aims to advance technical knowledge by pooling the collective knowledge of the hacker community.
From these principles of hacking, the malicious behavior can be predicted. If all information is free (except the occasional security key), then different systems can be observed, and – with the right mindset – vulnerabilities can be discovered and exploited to the benefit of the hacker. However, this seems like the natural price to pay in order to have the “positive” benefits of the hacker mentality, that being the advancement of technology and a universal collective knowledge.
With this in mind, the idea of being a “true hacker” can seem appealing to many, especially those in the technical community, like myself and my fellow computer science students. So long as sensitive information is concealed, true hacking should be the bastion of this community. However, there are many facets of this mentality that bring more harm than good.
For instance, this community of “true hackers” often devote huge portions of their life to their beliefs, like any passion one may pursue. However, like any other hobby, too much of a good thing can be a bad thing, and this mentality often promotes too much of that good thing. In part by the community at large, where peers will constantly be contributing to this open source landscape, which may create an expectation for other users, but also by the hobby itself. Something about studying the computer system is addicting to the user. Solving problems seem easy, but often are extremely difficult and time consuming. But, once a working solution is found, the feeling of gratification more than makes up for all that time spent frustrated for possibly days on end. The outcome is attractive, but nowhere near as attractive as the solution that the user made. The user feels like they aren’t useless and have presentable skills. It’s an addicting cycle if you choose to put the time into it.
There is also an anti-authoritarian angle expressed with true hacking. The “man” has their secrets and refuse to share their information with the masses, stifling innovation. This isn’t exclusive to hacking either. This view is expressed often and is quite popular, whether that comes in the form of punk music, communistic revolutions, or the open source community. However, these methods never end in the way they are planned to be. Punk musicians either become part of the mainstream or suffer from obscurity. Communist countries develop power struggles and more class chaos. Open source communities rely on crowd sourcing to stay afloat or get bought out by the “man” themselves (a la RedHat/IBM). On a user level, users rely on equipment backended by these major corporations.
The idea of a “true hacker” is enticing, but, as Professor Douglas Thain would say, “there ain’t no free lunch” and the drawbacks to being a part of this community are certainly a turnoff to many. They certainly are to me. I value having a healthy balance between work, passion, and social lives. If all three are to be combined into one, I could make decent contributions to the community at large, but I don’t believe I will be happier than I am now. Quite the opposite, I think I would constantly be sad and only feed into it more, escaping into the hacking world. I wish to have moderation in my life and this lifestyle does not agree with that. However, I still admire those that do choose to live that lifestyle.