The majority of the development work on Futhark has been carried out during my PhD work at DIKU. As I handed in my thesis in September and successfully defended it in November (read it here!), this feels like a good time to reflect on the experiences I made. I do not have some golden advice to pass on to future generations of PhD students (and in fact, I will comment only little on general PhD matters), but perhaps some of my observations can prove useful to someone. And if nothing else, writing this may provide some catharsis.
The reason behind the title of this post is that I did not originally anticipate doing any work on programming language design - it just happened by accident along the way. Finally, I would say that I consider myself incredibly blessed to have been given the opportunity to work full-time for more than four years on what is essentially my hobby. While PhD programmes certainly have their downsides (long hours, low pay, high stress), I can’t imagine anywhere else I could have had so much fun.
My involvement with Futhark started long before I became a PhD student. In the fall of 2012 I had been hired as a teaching assistant in the compilers course at DIKU. The co-teacher on the course, Cosmin Oancea, had designed a small data-parallel language and implemented a compiler skeleton in Standard ML. I was not very happy with the design of the compiler - in particular, I found the mechanism by which the type checker inserted type information in the AST to be inelegant (basically, the AST had a bunch of
option fields that started out as
NONE, and became
SOME after the type checker, but without any static guarantees). At the conclusion of the course, Cosmin started looking for people to continue developing the language, then called L0 (but I’ll just call it Futhark for the remainder of this post). I had thought of a better way to represent the type information, and I jumped at the chance to try it out in practice. I was not particularly interested in parallel programming at the time, but I subsequently spent a few weeks putting together a compiler because I found it fun (using Haskell, because I like it better than Standard ML). In fact, I found it so much fun that I eventually found myself working on it all the time.
At the time, the compiler did no optimisation, and generated only sequential and leaky C code. Furthermore, the language was crude. Syntactically, it was a mixture of C and Standard ML, and for example used curly braces to denote arrays (the horror!). At the time, this was fine - we had no desire to design a full programming language. Rather, we saw ourselves as being in the business of designing compiler optimisations, and Futhark was merely an intermediate representation for a compiler, or perhaps a target for code generation. Either way, though Futhark did possess a textual syntax so we could write benchmarks and test programs, we spent no time on making it particularly pleasant or elegant.
After a few weeks of work in my free time, I was hired as a student programmer to continue the work. Eventually I also wrote my master’s thesis on Futhark, and I was hired as a PhD student in April of 2014, a little more than a year after I first started work on the Futhark compiler.
At the time, the compiler had only the basics: Fusion plus simple copy propagation and folding. The main architectural weakness was the lack of a distinction between source and core language. In retrospect, this was an early design mistake, brought about by our refusal to accept that we were in fact building a programming language. The initial months of my PhD were therefore spent on splitting the AST definition in the compiler into a source and core version. We then augmented the latter with a notion of simple size-dependent types. This design turned out to be very robust, and it is still used almost unchanged in the current compiler. In general, I would say that nothing is more important in a compiler than a good choice of representation. While it is not a practical strategy to simply pick the best representation immediately, I would recommend designing the compiler such that the internal AST representation can always be tweaked to better fit the transformations being performed. Decoupling the IR from the source language is a good first step, but you may also wish to structure the compiler such that it can use several different representations internally (maybe even using a Nanopass design, if your implementation language makes that convenient).
Invigorated by the success of the size-dependent type system, we decided to exercise it by constructing an elaborate optimisation for reducing the cost of doing bounds checking. While this resulted in a paper, the implementation was very complicated and time-consuming to maintain. Further, this work did not move us closer to our final goal - efficient execution of Futhark on GPU - compared to the low-overhead technique of simply disabling problematic bounds checks. This was another lesson: take hacky shortcuts for anything not directly related to your final goal. You can always go back and refine the luxury features later on.
The latter half of 2014 marked the beginning of undoubtedly the most frustrating and difficult part of my PhD work, as we slowly started putting together the building blocks we would need to generate GPU code and handle nested parallelism. The work was particularly difficult because it had no immediate tangible effect. We still generated only slow, leaky, and sequential code, and the language itself was neither elegant, nor practically useful. Under these circumstances, I found it hard to stay motivated, and it was hard to convince myself as well as others that our work would eventually pay off. Looking back, I am surprised I did not quit, and I think it would have been a good idea to structure the work to have more short-term rewards. This could have taken the form of creating a simple and hacky compilation pipeline that could at least run something on the GPU. Alternatively, work on the compiler infrastructure (tough and unrewarding) could have been interspersed with work on the source language (easier and with immediate payoff). Of course, the latter was hampered by the fact that we still refused to admit that we were not just compiler researchers, but also language designers.
Eventually, the work paid off, and on the 29th of April 2015, the first Futhark program to be compiled into OpenCL and executed correctly on a GPU was run:
fun [int] main ([int] a) = map(+2, a)
The compilation pipeline was still somewhat hacky and brittle, but this proof-of-concept provided a huge surge of motivation, and progress was rapid after that. On May 3rd, the compiler could handle matrix multiplication, which is essentially the equivalent of Turing-completeness for an array language. I spent the summer designing and implementing our moderate flattening algorithm for handling nested parallelism, and by mid-fall, we were compiling fairly complicated programs into quite decent GPU code.
A particularly memorable boost of motivation came when we graduated from only compiling our own test programs, and moved on to translating benchmarks from Rodinia into Futhark. In many cases, the GPU code generated by the Futhark compiler was even able to outperform the hand-written code. While this clearly only happened because the original code was flawed, it was still a quite encouraging experience.
This was the time when we really started programming in Futhark. While we previously had variously small test programs and a few guiding benchmarks, we were now porting thousands of lines of code. But while we made a few language improvements - such as adding more integer types in early 2016 - the language was still unpolished and uncomfortable. However, it was not quite so uncomfortable that I did not want to take it for a spin on “real” applications. At this time, the only way to run Futhark code was to compile it to an executable, which would then read input in a textual format on standard input, and produce textual output on standard out. Using this simple interface, I was able to write some simple image processing demos, using a Python program to read image files and convert them to the textual format, but it was quite awkward. Worse, it was slow. Every time the program ran, it would re-initialise the GPU, which can take several seconds, and all data had to be copied back and forth for every run. It was time to think a little about how to make Futhark useful.
Fortunately, we had an idea on how to accomplish this - and more importantly, two motivated undergrads looking for a fun project for their bachelors thesis! Thus, during the spring of 2016, we developed a compiler backend that generated not standalone binaries, but rather reusable Python modules. These modules then exported functions that appeared like ordinary Python functions, but internally would offload work to the GPU through the PyOpenCL library. This allowed us to easily invoke Futhark code from Python programs, with runtime speed close to what we obtained with our C/OpenCL-based code generator.
This, in turn, let us leverage Python’s library ecosystem. In particular, we began writing several interactive visualisations, where a Python program would call a Futhark function to produce a screen image, and then use a Python library to blit the image to the screen. The impact of such demos is hard to overstate: While the audience members at a presentation may nod their heads at descriptions of how the compiler manages to transform some complicated nested parallel program, what they remember is is a real-time visualisation of the Mandelbrot set, spinning particles in an n-body simulation, or a dynamically changing webcam filter. And so, while Futhark was never meant for graphics programming, or particularly optimised for low-latency programs, we made a strategic effort to port/copy/steal a variety of programs that could be used to grab people’s attention. Fortunately, our friends in the Accelerate project had already done the hard part of the work, and their collection of examples is a nice source of easy-to-read parallel programs, most of which come with nice visualisations. Porting these to Python+Futhark proved quite simple.
Our efforts at visualising our own benchmarks proved less fruitful. But please - if anyone knows of a flashy way to visualise k-means clustering in a 34-dimensional space, or market parameter calibration in the Heston model, please let us now!
I learnt two lessons here: First, come up with something flashy for capturing people’s attention! It does not have to be something that fully demonstrates the potential of your work, just something that people will remember for later. Second, if you are in academia, take advantage of the supply of students! They are a wonderful source of labour, if you can supply them with projects that they find motivating.
The Python backend and the pretty visualisations it permitted motivated us to present Futhark to the world. I built a website (the one you are reading), and submitted it to /r/programming in April of 2016, where it made it to the top of the list. The response was far more positive than I had expected, and it was quite fun to read people’s take on our work. Since Futhark is undeniably an applied research project, getting feedback from practitioners outside of the academic bubble is invaluable. Since then, I have also given a talk at the Copenhagen Meeting Group for Functional Programmers and at FOSDEM, and I hope to do more in the future. Unfortunately, academic success proved a little more elusive, and we had our first major paper rejected by ICFP in 2016. It was a pretty rushed paper, so we were not very surprised, and it took two rewrites before it was accepted at PLDI in 2017.
By this time, Futhark was a programming language. That was what the website called it, and how I explained it to the outside world. This had been a gradual change, brought about by the fact that it’s easier to explain that “Futhark is a programming language that runs fast on GPUs”, than “Futhark is a compiler that can compile generate GPU code, but the language is unimportant”. Unfortunately, Futhark still was not a very good language. The syntax was clumsy, there was no real mechanism for abstraction, and many small conveniences - like local functions - were not supported. It had to change, and it did.
Some changes were superficial. For example, we changed the function application syntax to be based on juxtaposition rather than parentheses. While this caused some challenges, it was mostly straightforward (although writing a program to transform the entire test suite cost me a weekend). We were far more challenged when we started adding substantial new language features, in particular the module system and the record system.
Our language design efforts were aided by the fact that we already had a well-working compiler. Thus, whenever we added a new language feature, we could immediately check whether it would inhibit optimisations, or otherwise cause problems for code generation. In practice, we did this by restricting language extensions to the source language, and requiring that all new features should be straightforwardly compiled away into the core language. I think there is another lesson here: If designing a language where the success criteria are primarily operational (performance, safety, verifiability, etc), start by designing a bare-bones languages, with only the most essential features. Then, once you know how to write the intended compiler, you can extend and improve the language. The experience gained while writing the compiler will help inform the language design process, and ensure that features are not added that will become impossible to implement. While this co-design strategy is not suitable in all cases, it is effective for those languages that are really just glorified user interfaces to a powerful compiler.
While I still see myself as principally an academic compiler developer, language design has proven so much fun that we will no doubt continue to improve on Futhark as a programming language. We will probably continue to be conservative, and only add features that have already been tried by other languages. This is partially because of our limited manpower, partially because of our generally minimalist sense of aesthetics, and partially because adding language features to Futhark carries an extra tax, in that they may not restrict the optimising power of the compiler. For example, we are currently working on adding support for higher-order functions, where we use (simple) type rules to provide a guarantee that we can specialise away all higher-order constructs early in the compilation pipeline. In contrast, a normal functional language could just represent a first-class function as a function pointer paired with a heap-allocated closure. It is an interesting language design project in its own right: how do you design a programming language that feels high-level, but has just the right set of restrictions to permit efficient compilation to restricted targets? This is certainly not a problem we expected to encounter when we started the Futhark project, but it has become a welcome one.
Designing a language in a vacuum is difficult. We can certainly use our own sense of aesthetics to determine whether the language is pleasant to use, but our own benchmarks and demo programs provide little feedback on how Futhark works in a real-world setting. Fortunately, we are cooperating with various academic and industrial groups on experimenting with Futhark applied to real problems in real code bases. No doubt, this will also influence the design of the language - I can already think of a few tweaks I’d like to make to how a Futhark program is split across multiple files (but the details will have to wait for another blog post).