5 posts tagged with "Who's On First"

Type Vienna, Austria into our geocoder and, until this week, it answered with a confident set of coordinates: 39.32, −81.54. That's Vienna, West Virginia — population about ten thousand, a few miles up the Ohio River from Parkersburg. The capital of Austria is 7,500 kilometers and one ocean away, and the geocoder had no doubt whatsoever.

The whole geocoder runs in your browser. You type an address, you get a rooftop coordinate, and no server ever sees your query — the gazetteer it resolves against is a SQLite database sitting on a CDN, and the page reads it with HTTP range requests, a few kilobytes at a time. It's a lovely trick. We were proud of it. Then we counted the requests it took to find a single city, and the number was 243.

So the questions for the day: why does looking up one name cost 243 round trips? What goes wrong when you search a database you can only read a slice at a time? And how do you get a global gazetteer — every country, region, county, and city we resolve against — down to about a dozen reads without putting a server back in the loop?

Overnight I taught the geocoder Canada. Or I thought I did. I pulled 843,000 Canadian postal codes, computed a centroid for every one, spot-checked the result — M5H 2N2, downtown Toronto, 43.652, −79.382, dead on — and validated the database every way I could read it: every postcode present, every coordinate right, nothing else disturbed. Green, top to bottom. This morning, before flipping it live, I asked the demo to find a Toronto address. It dropped the pin in Ohio.

So, the questions for the morning. How does a database that passes every check still land the answer 600 kilometres wrong? What does it actually mean to "validate" a thing? And why is Toronto in Ohio?

We turned the demo into a real geocoder — type an address, get a rooftop coordinate, all in your browser, no server. The last touch was the one that makes a search box feel alive: autocomplete, so the city finishes itself while you type. We already had the autocomplete. We'd shipped it as a command-line tool days earlier, watched it rank San Francisco above San Diego, and called it done. So we dropped the same function into the box, typed New Yor, and it suggested Denver.

The questions that opened up: why does a function that nails San choke on New Yor? What's the difference between completing a word and completing the word a person is in the middle of typing? And how does an autocomplete that knows ten thousand cities fail to finish one of them?

Our resolver scored 93.7% on the metric we'd been quoting for months. On the same addresses, its median answer was 326 kilometers from the truth.

Both numbers are correct. That's the awkward part.