Recently my teammate and I were discussing our project with another colleague at the coffee machine. Our project is closely tied to eBPF. Our colleague didn’t really know what that was, so my team-mate summed it up as “a non-Turing-complete bytecode VM in the Linux kernel”. This triggered a pointless argument, which is the topic of this post.
My colleague’s rationale was that an eBPF program is only allowed to execute one million instructions. To use the traditional definition of Turing-completeness, that clearly means it cannot simulate the infinite “tape” of a Turing machine.
Well, say I, neither can your laptop. It has finitely many digital states; it cannot simulate an infinite Turing machine. No real computer can. If your definition of Turing-complete is met by no extant device, then it’s not a very useful definition. So, say I, relax it, and let eBPF into the Turing-complete pantheon.
Now, my colleague - if he had not by now finished his coffee and continued with his day - would most likely have suggested that his laptop’s merely physical limitations should not be be elevated to the severity of eBPF’s fundamental, abstract, incontroverible boundedness. Just because a laptop is not truly Turing-complete, he can be imagined arguing, we cannot deny the Turing-completeness of C, or of x86 assembly. A definition met by no extant object is not a useless definition. That is, presumably, what he would have proposed.
But, as I say, the coffee was finished, and I won the argument.