He was telling me how he would sell high-quality cabinets to homeowners, basically by building a "dream kitchen," that far exceeds their budget, then backing down, by removing features, until they have something that exceeds their original budget, but would still be quite good, and that they want.
He was saying that I should use his methodology.
I explained that his sales are to the people that would actually use the cabinets, so they have a vested interest in high quality.
In my case, I would be working for a business that absolutely doesn't care about quality. They want the cheapest, shittiest garbage they can possibly get away with pushing. They don't use it, and many of them won't even be responsible for supporting it, afterwards, so there's no incentive for quality.
The same goes for corporations that don't try to retain talent. If someone is only going to be around for eighteen months, they are paid well, and they are pressured to produce a lot of "stuff," then you can expect them to produce a lot of ... stuff. They don't give a damn about supporting it, because they are already practicing LeetCode for their next gig.
I have found that giving people a vested interest in Quality is essential. That often comes from being responsible for taking care of it, after it is released, using it themselves, or having their reputation staked on it.
I don't feel the current tech industry meets any of these bars.
Most of the software I write, is stuff that I use, and I am intimately involved with the users of my work. I want it to be good, because I see them, several times a week. Also, I have a fairly high personal bar, that I won't compromise. I have to feel good about my work, and that doesn't seem to sell.
When a bug was found, it was assigned to the next available developer in the team. It didn't matter who wrote the code and created the bug - there was no feedback to them unless they happened to be the one who picked up the bug report.
The bug reports were printed out and stood in a tall pile on a manager's desk.
Quality was, as one might imagine, terrible. Junior developers had no idea what a bad job they were doing - senior developers spent their days fixing stupid bugs they would never have caused themselves.
The solution, blindingly obvious, was to start assigning bugs to the developer who caused them. The improvement was instant, because most people actually want to do a good job, and to be seen doing a good job. The pile of bug reports literally shrank before people's eyes.
The current industry seems to have moved back to these bad old days but on a longer timescale.
Resume-driven development abounds. Developers move on to the next gig before the impact of their decisions becomes obvious and quality plummets accordingly.
You can give devs a vested interest in their work by making sure compensation tracks/exceeds what they can get outside, because it would give them a vested interest in remaining employed with the company.
I will bet that the top companies are able to provide all of these, and keep people, but I suspect that many companies have terrible managers that can’t keep a decent work environment going, so compensation is the only variable that matters.
The company I worked for, didn’t pay especially well, and I worked very hard to treat my employees well. It seemed to work. It wasn’t a case of greedy managers, making money off the backs of peons. None of us made that much, but the work was deeply satisfying. We worked with the top engineers and scientists in the world (in our field). Our business cards opened a lot of doors.
1) It’s difficult to do this, unless you already have a lot of experience, writing good code.
2) There’s a ceiling to what we can do, as individuals. I have heard tales of Linus, The Miracle Coder, who can write an entire operating system, as well as an industry-changing VCS, on his own; but I only know of one cranky Finn that seems to fit that description. Otherwise, most of us mortals need to work in teams, to achieve ambitious goals, and that brings its own set of challenges.
I believe that it's vital to have a stake in Quality, or it won't happen.
The only moment I consider quality as the top priority is when I work on side projects (because there’s only one opinion about what quality means, because there’s no time pressure and because no one is asking me “are we profitable now?”)
1. The spaghetti mess, half-done abstractions, inconsistent uses of anything everwhere. But accomplishes the users expectations perfectly 2. A beautiful codebase, clean abstractions, tests and documentation everywhere. But the user hates it. It's slow, requires some domain knowledge of how to drive and get result.
Two very contrived examples, but not unrealistic examples.
Intuitively, better cabinet quality leads to a better cabinet experience. Does better code quality lead to a better product? It should, that's what quality is about. And if not, is "quality" even the right word?
Whenever I hear an engineer talk about quality, I clarify. What kinda of quality are we talking about?
This plays out in code review in a way that drives me insane. So much back and forth and time spent/wasted because there's always that one person or small group of people who insist their way is the one true one.
It's kinda like ice cream. You can argue if you prefer vanilla or chocolate, but everyone will agree when they're eating shit.
Now business takes this and runs with it: you can't even agree on if vanilla is better than chocolate, so go eat this pile of shit.
I appreciate the scatological approach, though. And most of the time when I hear the word "quality," it's said in anger that could easily be communicated by flinging poo . . .
No wonder so many bugs never get reported unless many customers run into it much later. I have a project I work on regularly. I use it regularly to do productive things and I find most of the bugs just doing that. I had a couple different 'business partners' who talked a good game, but I could not get them to actually use the software and give me feedback on how to improve it. Neither one added much value to it and quickly moved on to other things.
Let's mention the missing step: don't even bother to run the code.
I'm simply embarrassed to admit how often I've been in teams that not only "don't use the software" (i.e. no dogfooding) but even "don't run the program". It's embarrassing. These types of teams miss bugs that get shipped because not one of the people involved in making that software has ever even actually run the damn app, let alone actually used it for any length of time.
This is shameful and embarrassing. Our profession is a joke. How can we even call ourselves professionals?
If they'd ran it, they'd have seen how broken it is. But they didn't run it, and just merged the branch.
If you're not dogfooding, you rely harder on a mental user model. Just conjecturing -- not only does that model diverge across your organization, but it could result in more top-down decisions about what a user wants, which probably creates more politics and friction all around your teams.
They assume (or don't even pause to think about it) that developers eating the dogfood is enough.
At larger companies, "eating your own dogfood" only works well if people with power to make roadmap and time-allocation decisions also eat it.
Like, guys, when even the people who are making your product don't want to use it, this counts as data about how successful the product will be. If you have to force paid employees to use the product, then you'd have to pay users to use it too: there's no profit margin here, there's no user base.
If you want to sell software, maybe one of the biggest markets to play in is software that programmers don’t find interesting to write and use?
There’s clearly not a 100% overlap between problems that programmers find interesting and open source projects. But it is applying not so favorable filter, right?
What's missing are the fault models with the solutions from 15 years ago:
- how to keep code review from becoming a politicized bottleneck
- deploying continuously to avoid train schedules
- comprehensive security, for both code and process
- ...
Is this true? I can’t speak for telco, but I thought the internet in particular was developed incrementally with a lot of experimentation. I mean, yes, the experimentation resulted in RFPs and STDs. But I thought these generally came after the software was working. And as someone who has implemented a few RFPs, I would not say my approach was remotely waterfall.
Indeed my perhaps incorrect version of events is that the waterfall approach is represented by the big loser in telco, the ISO OSI.
I've designed and deployed Tier 1 services for a Big Tech company, and here's is a little-known secret: when nothing changes, our reliability is higher than six-nines.
Last year I measured our uptime during Black Friday for fun. Our error rate was measured in scientific notation because the number was so small. We didn't do any deployments or changes during that period.
When you operate in a steady state it's easy to achieve zero errors, and most downtime comes from random failures in hardware, i.e. servers crashing or network blips (which, operating at scale, are relatively common).
So my and other's personal experience is that most outages are due to changes in the software, dependency outages, or the rare large scale event that completely kills your SLA (e.g. a whole AWS region is down). Taming these is at the essence of reliable software.
Whoever tells you that the best software is made using waterwall methodologies from a fixed and never changing set of specifications, lives in a fantasyland alien to the vast majority of developers.
