I really hate Cards Against Humanity.
I don’t particularly hate it for the obvious reasons of middle class white kids sitting around a table giggling at how transgressive they are being with their jokes about race. I don’t approve, and I would probably avoid it for that reason alone, but it’s frankly so banal in this regard that it probably wouldn’t be enough to raise my ire above lukewarm.
What I really hate about it is that it’s a game about convincing yourself that you’re much funnier than you actually are.
Cards Against Humanity is funny, but it’s not that funny. It relies on shock value to inflate its humour, and by making a game of that it draws you in and makes you complicit. Your joke about Vladimir Putin and Altar Boys? Not actually very funny, but by giving you permission to be shocking, Cards Against Humanity lets you feel like the world’s best comedian for an hour.
There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with enjoying pretending you’re funnier than you actually are. I’ve intensely enjoyed games where I got to spend an hour pretending I was an elf, and no harm was done to any parties involved (except for some imaginary orcs who found themselves full of imaginary lightning bolts). The difference is, I don’t walk away from the latter with any doubt in my head about whether I’m an elf (I’m not, in case you were wondering). People walk away from a game of Cards Against Humanity thinking that they’re hilarious.
Is this objectively a problem? I’m not sure I’d go that far. It would require too much of a digression into systems of ethics and theories of value.
Personally though, I hate it. I hate it a lot. Humour and accurate self-knowledge are both things I value, and the intersection is especially important because inaccurate self-knowledge about something you want to become better at is a great way of becoming worse at it instead. If you learn the lesson that being crass is a great way to be hilarious, you won’t become better at humour, you’ll just become better at being crass.
Which brings me to Ruby and Haskell.
These two programming languages are about as far away from each other on the field of programming languages as you can get. But one thing they have in common, other than garbage collection and list syntax, is their similarity to Cards Against Humanity.
Oh, they generally don’t give you the same sense of being way funnier than you actually are (_why’s poignant guide and learn you a Haskell aside), but they do have community norms that have similar effects of inflating your sense of how good you are at something important.
A thing I value probably at least as much as humour is good API design. It’s an essential weapon in the war on shitty software. It’s almost completely absent in Ruby. There are some exceptions (Sequel and Sinatra for example), but by and large Ruby APIs seem almost actively designed to promote bad software.
Ruby is full of people who think they’re doing good API design, but they’re not. The problem is that in Ruby everyone is designing “DSLs”. The focus is on making the examples look pretty. I’m all for making examples look pretty, but when you focus on that to the exclusion of the underlying semantics, what you get is the Cards Against Humanity effect all over again. You’re not doing good API design – you’re doing something that has the appearance of good API design, but is in reality horrifically non-modular and will break in catastrophic ways the first time something unexpected happens, but the lovely syntax lets you pat yourself on the back and tell yourself what a good API designer you are.
And then there’s Haskell.
The way this problem manifests in Haskell is in how incredibly clever it makes you feel to get something done in it. Haskell is different enough from most languages that everything feels like an achievement when writing it. “Look, I used a monad! And defined my own type class for custom folding of data! Isn’t that amazing?“. “What does it do?” “It’s a CRUD app”.
To a degree I’m sure this passes once you’re more familiar with the language and are using it for real things (although for some people familiarity just spurs them on to even greater heights), but a large enough subset of the Haskell community never reaches that stage and just continues to delight in how clever they are for writing Haskell. In the same way that Cards Against Humanity gives you a false sense of being funny, and Ruby gives you a false sense of designing good APIs, Haskell gives you a false sense of solving important problems because it gives you all these exciting problems to solve that have nothing to do with what you’re actually trying to achieve.
I very much do not hate Haskell or Ruby in the same way that I hate Cards Against Humanity, because unlike Cards Against Humanity these features are not the point of the languages, and the languages have myriad virtues to counteract them.
But I do find a fairly large subset of their communities really annoying in how much they exemplify this behaviour. They’re too caught up in congratulating themselves on how good they are at something to notice that they’re terrible at it, and it makes for some extremely frustrating interactions.