Estimated reading time: 3–4 minutes
“Congratulations,” the professor said. “You have just taken your first step into the world of computer programming.”
The computer added the numbers and displayed the result. My programme had worked! It was a moment of triumph. I felt as though I had opened a door to a new universe, every bit as vast and mysterious as the starry sky that had fascinated me before. That scrap of paper with a number printed on it represented my first successful conversation with a programmable computer.
“Congratulations,” the professor said. “You have just taken your first step into the world of computer programming. From now on, you will begin to see the world in bits and algorithms.”
I was too elated to notice the faintly ironic tone in the professor’s voice. It was certainly not the sort of irony that wounds. It was encouragement, rather, expressed ironically. I left the laboratory with a strange feeling of euphoria and bewilderment. On the one hand, I had managed to make the computer carry out my commands. Any programmer will understand what I mean. Those who are not programmers ought to try it. On the other hand, I sensed that this was merely the tip of the iceberg, that beneath the surface lay complexities I was only beginning to fathom. That evening, in the halls of residence, I sat up late with several classmates from my group, rereading our notes and trying to rethink our programmes, to optimise them and make them more efficient. A number of students from other specialisations, who were also doing their practical placement in Timișoara, watched us with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“So you’re talking to those computers now, are you?” asked one of them, a student of civil engineering.
“We’re trying to,” I replied, “but it seems they’re not always willing to listen.”
My month-long placement in Timișoara was extraordinary and, to borrow the terminology of artificial intelligence, the fundamental concepts I still use today were already hardcoded — firmly rooted in my mind. In fact, during my placement, everyone was talking about the Americans’ intention to send men to the Moon. The Apollo programme was in full swing, and the entire world watched with bated breath every launch, every test, every step towards the Moon. I felt that the world was changing, at least from a technological standpoint, and I was proud to be part of that process. We students, learning to programme computers on MECIPT, were part of the same technological revolution that would lead to the Moon landing. Back then, I could not have imagined that this dialogue of mine with computing machines would continue for the next twenty-three years, evolving into a conversation that was complex, sometimes frustrating, but always captivating. Nor could I have imagined that at the age of seventy-six I would resume this conversation, this time with the help of artificial intelligence — something that would have seemed like science fiction even to the authors whose books I had devoured in my adolescence. But that is another story, one that begins with “Hello, World!” and continues with “Hello, AI!”