Every so often, I remember that I’m no longer creative in computer science or even in programming. I’m now far from the source of creativity in computer science, by which I mean that I’m no longer at the cutting edge. Lack of creativity in that domain makes good sense for me at this point in time. But I could still be a programmer; one doesn’t even need a formal computer science education for that. (This is not to downplay the difficulty of programming. It’s just not necessary to major in computer science to be a programmer, just as you don’t need an art degree to be an artist.)
After I left graduate school, I didn’t program for years. This was primarily because I was very busy with other stuff (medical school, residency, and everything associated with and that followed those years). When I wasn’t busy, I was distracted. I did have spurts of interest in web programming (Rails, HTML/CSS, etc.) and “fun” languages (Haskell, Ruby, Python, etc.), but nothing really stuck with me. I became dismayed by the fact that so much is incompatible with so much else, and that pretty much everything becomes obsolete after a few years.
Good algorithms/ideas are forever. Unfortunately, software itself is ephemeral; hardware is also ephemeral, and vulnerable while it exists. The open-source movement hasn’t been as prominent as for-profit companies have been, with their proprietary software and hardware that often disable customers from taking their data elsewhere. I do invest casually in my blog, but that’s mostly writing and pictures that can be stored as hardcopy.
Much of the programming code I wrote in college, for a large variety of interesting and often fun projects, is probably no longer accessible because it was backed up to CD-Rs that are almost certainly corrupted. (I’ve confirmed that some of my old CD-Rs from my college days are corrupt now.) When they first came out, CD-Rs were touted as a storage technology that would last at least a century. That turned out not to be the case.
A simple, inexpensive pen or pencil can be used to write or draw on paper produced by other manufacturers, or to write on many other materials. Paint produced by one manufacturer can be blended with paint made by others, and the range of colors produced by mixing paint at home is infinite. You can even create your own pigments (some artists do this). If you learn to play guitar on one brand of guitar, you can play on any brand.
Today’s digital creator, on the other hand, is at the mercy of manufacturers, programmers, and hackers.* The relevance of any computer-based product is short-lived. Tech culture, as it is in 2016 (it doesn’t have to be this way), is largely different from the culture of, say, art or music or literature, in which there are pieces extant from thousands of years ago that are still relevant.**
*Imagine if Apple and Google sold paint, you bought a tube of it from each company, and they blended incorrectly because of proprietary formulations requiring you to stick with one company or the other. This rarely happens with actual paint.
**For example, there are paintings (such as the “remarkably evocative renderings of animals and some humans that employ a complex mix of naturalism and abstraction” on cave walls at Lascaux, Chauvet-Pont-d’Arc, and elsewhere from tens of thousands of years ago that we can still appreciate), pieces of music (such as “White Snow in Early Spring” from ~552 BC, attributed to Shi Kuang, that is still played live), and well-known poetry and literature from ancient cultures that people still read and admire.