Ada's Algorithm: How Lord Byron's Daughter ADA Lovelace Launched the Digital Age

by James Essinger

Hardcover, 2014

Status

Available

Publication

Melville House Publishing (2014), Edition: 1, 254 pages

Description

Over 150 years after her death, a widely-used scientific computer program was named "Ada," after Ada Lovelace, the only legitimate daughter of the eighteenth century's version of a rock star, Lord Byron. Why? Because, after computer pioneers such as Alan Turing began to rediscover her, it slowly became apparent that she had been a key but overlooked figure in the invention of the computer. Essinger makes the case that the computer age could have started two centuries ago if Lovelace's contemporaries had recognized her research and fully grasped its implications. It's a remarkable tale, starting with the outrageous behavior of her father, which made Ada instantly famous upon birth. Ada would go on to overcome numerous obstacles to obtain a level of education typically forbidden to women of her day. She would eventually join forces with Charles Babbage, generally credited with inventing the computer, although as Essinger makes clear, Babbage couldn't have done it without Lovelace. Indeed, Lovelace wrote what is today considered the world's first computer program -- despite opposition that the principles of science were "beyond the strength of a woman's physical power of application."… (more)

Rating

½ (30 ratings; 2.6)

User reviews

LibraryThing member Foretopman
I've known about Ada Byron Lovelace since the late '70s, and haven't ever read a biography of her, so I really wanted to like this book. But I wasn't able to finish it. Even after I had put it away in disgust, I picked it back up again, saying, 'maybe it deserves a second chance.' Well, I only got
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another two chapters further before I gave up for good.

The first problem I had was that it badly needed some attention from a competent editor. Just two examples of many:
On pp 19-20 there was this gem: "There remained, however, the small problem of Byron's debts. While there is no doubt that his publisher, John Murray, earned a small fortune, Byron seems to have thought it vulgar to take money for his poetry. On at least one occasion, Byron asked his publisher, John Murray, to give away 1,000 guineas that Byron was owed as royalties for his poems." Wait, I may have forfotten, tell me again who his publisher was?

And then on p 48: "The usual educational opportunities open to girls in the early nineteenth century varied from limited to non-existent. Even middle-class and aristocratic girls were usually only taught such skills as were necessary for overseeing the management of the households they could one day expect to oversee." That's an awful lot of overseeing.

Those are only a sample of the infelicitous passages that kept interrupting the flow of reading. But more disturbing were the signs of a lack of in-depth research. I'd like the writer of a biography of a woman who was the daughter of a baron and the wife of an earl to know that Lord Byron's title was not a "baronetcy". (And this was not just a slip; he referred to it as such repeatedly.)

The final straw came on page 88. The author is describing Babbage's Difference Engine: "Babbage's conception of the Difference Engine was based on the idea that teeth on individual cogwheels (described as 'figure wheels' by Babbage) would stand for numbers." I don't know about you, but to me this implies that the author has no idea why Babbage would want to describe the cogwheels as figure wheels, and treats it simply as one of Babbage's idiosyncrasies. He doesn't seem to realize that Babbage called them figure wheels because they actually had figures, numbers, written on them. At this point I gave up hope that the author had any real understanding, or ability to convey an understanding, of the operation of the Difference Engine.

I have stuck out poorly edited books in the past, but the combination of a lack of editing and superficial research means that I'm going to have to wait a while longer for a good biography of Lady Lovelace.
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LibraryThing member Gwendydd
I enjoyed reading this because Ada Lovelace is such a fascinating person, but it's actually a quite bad book. It seems to be written for a young adult audience, judging by the way the author explains really basic things to his readers. The book is in desperate need of a good copy editor - there are
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often two paragraphs in a row that say the exact same thing, often nearly word for word. The organization is downright strange (Essinger will be in the middle of talking about one thing, and insert a paragraph about something totally unrelated).

As much as I found the book to be interesting, I don't know how much to trust any of the information in it. There is very little evidence of research: clearly Essinger read Ada's letters, but that seems to be about it, and there is definitely no original research here. Essinger often bases his conclusions on "After reading her letters, I don't think she would....", which is tenuous at best.

And while I'm griping, I might as well complain about the title. There is no mention of Ada ever coming up with any algorithm, and even less mention of her "launching the digital age" - if anything, the book makes it clear that Ada's ideas never had an opportunity to take hold, and it is only in retrospect that we can see that she was a visionary.

My biggest reaction to this book is that it makes me want to go out and find some real scholarship about Ada.
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LibraryThing member john257hopper
Ada Lovelace, together with Charles Babbage, were early 19th century pioneers of the ideas behind what became the computer revolution a century after they lived. The author's central thesis is that Ada's contribution was neglected at the time, and to a large extent subsequently, due to her sex. I
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felt he slightly spoiled his own argument during the early parts of the book by talking very little about Ada and initially focusing, inevitably, on the notorious life of her more famous father, Lord Byron. Ada is a marginal figure in the narrative here, and only when her collaboration with Babbage comes to the fore, does Ada's role become clear.

Their roles were different. Babbage had the mechanical expertise, albeit that his Analytical Engine was never completed, due to lack of funds and the effective absence of a working precision machine industry for much of his life. He also lacked the people handling skills necessary to influence the course of events in his favour; he had a disastrous meeting with Prime Minister Sir Robert Peel in 1842 which, had he succeeded in convincing the latter of the economic benefits that could accrue from his machine, could have changed the future of technology over the next century, albeit that such intriguing "what ifs" are ultimately unprovable.

Ada was the one who had the vision of what the Analytical Engine might achieve, not only in crude mechanical terms, but in terms of a conceptual leap ("he [Babbage] saw machines essentially as mechanised servants of mankind rather than as a new area of discovery with its own mysteries. His scientific imagination was ultimately more prosaic and less incandescent than hers"). Drawing on the example of what had been achieved with a portrait woven on a French loom using a system of cards to control the threads, Ada conceptualised a clear distinction between data (the pattern of the woven portrait) and processing (how the principles behind the application of the cards could be replicated for other forms of information). In the author's words this is "a distinction we tend to take for granted today, but which – like so much of her thinking about computers – was in her own day not only revolutionary but truly visionary". She was effectively inventing the "science of operations", or what we would now call computing, a system that could be applied to any process involving the manipulation of information.

For all her vision, Ada Lovelace still struggled to be taken entirely seriously by her contemporaries, even by Babbage. Sadly, she had very little time to make further efforts in this regard, tragically dying of uterine cancer at the age of just 36 after two years of suffering and pain. Her doctors despaired of being able to do anything to relieve her condition, one offering the truly bleak prognosis that "The duty of the physician is thus a very sad one; as the highest success which he can hope to attain is to secure not recovery, but euthanasia".

As I said earlier, I thought the author initially failed to make the case for Ada Lovelace's significance, though this improved during the narrative. But the book did contain quite a number of typos and mistakes, including one bizarre one where Ada is described as paying a visit to Walter Scott in 1850 - 18 years after his death. Overall, not as good a read as it might have been.
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LibraryThing member andycyca
This book left me quite unsatisfied, but I can't put my finger on why. I feel that the book discusses Ada Lovelace's peers and times more than her own contributions, and then only in a rather shallow way.

I might be wrong about it, though. The author makes sure to make his sources explicit. It may
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well be that we only know about Lovelace in this indirect way, but I'm not an historian, so I can't say for sure. What I do know is that this book feels thin
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LibraryThing member KarenDuff
Ada's story is really interesting and deserves to be told,however this book doesn't do it justice. The writing is appalling,and whoever proof read this should be fired. I don't expect proof readers to be experts in the subject but I do expect them to be able to string a sentence together.

Language

Original language

English

Original publication date

2012

ISBN

9781612194080
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