Dear Entrepreneurs

"Regard your soldiers as your children and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look on them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death." --Sun Tzu

An open letter to entrepreneurs, from someone who has worked for quite a few of you.

Normally, I go through a lot of examples and points and then summarize at the end. This one is important to me, though, so I'll give you the summary now. Up front.

Your company is your baby. Not mine. You're invested, not me. To me, you're a job. Just another employer. Unless you do something to get me invested.

In my experience, a good number of entrepreneurs don't quite get this. I get that your company is your baby. You've worked for it, lost sleep for it, and probably skipped a meal or two for it. To you, this is personal. But it isn't to me. Not right away, and not just because you hired me. If I'm going to be personally invested in your company, in your idea, you need to give both reason and opportunity to do so. And it's worth it. If you're just a job to me, I'll walk away as soon as a better one comes by. If I'm invested, I'll have to be dragged out.

To that end:

Just because you believe, doesn't mean I do.

Most software developers I've encountered fall into one of two categories. First you have the mercenaries contractors. They work for the people who give them the best compensation. And I don't just mean money. Pay, benefits, environment, all goes into it. But as soon as they see a better place, they're a developer-shaped puff of smoke in the air.

Then, there are the developers who want to work for the company they work for. Because they want to be a part of what that company does. Believe me- those are the guys you want. But you have to give them a reason. And that's the bit that, in my experience, many entrepreneurs overlook. They think that the fact that they know how awesome the company is, then any employee should, too. Automatically.

Look- I'm a software developer and I'm familiar with the territory. A lot gets asked of us, and we take a great deal of professional pride in delivering quality work. But there's got to be a better reason than "Because I said so". If I'm working 50-60 hours a week just because "That's policy", then I'm probably going to have my resume out in a couple of months. Definitely before my one year anniversary. If I care, then I'll do what needs to be done, but you have to give me a reason to care. 

I've worked at both extremes of this. One entrepreneur mandated 50 hours a week, minimum, 24/7 support, and made us track our time down to the quarter-hour. For few benefits, and frequent communication that profit sharing and ownership would only come to those who deserved it. Which was, at least at the time, no one. I had taken the job in order to gain a specific skill set. Once I felt I had it, I moved on. I had no investment in the company because the founder hadn't given me a reason to care.

I went to another startup. The CEO gave regular meetings, not just on how the company was doing but why they were doing certain things. He told us quite frequently that his vision was to change a market in order to put more power and more control, and thus more opportunity, in the hands of customers. He ended every meeting with "Welcome to the revolution!" He believed. More importantly, he got others to believe. Nights? Weekends? No problem. Answer questions while on vacation- sure. Why? Because I wanted that company to succeed- still do, even though we've parted ways. And even so, I'm a touch sad about having done so. Because I believed.

Sprint Planning Pt. 1: Stop with the Points Already

"Our culture thrives on black-and-white narratives, clearly defined emotions, easy endings, and so, this thrust into complexity exhausts." --Caroline Knapp

I've been doing a lot of reading and thinking about story points lately, and over time I have been edging toward what I now see as a necessary conclusion. Story points are meaningless. Even... Wait for it... POINTless. Yes, I just did that.

To recap, when planning a development sprint, it's customary to assign a user story a point value as a measure of... Well, to be honest, I really can't tell you what it's measuring. I can recap what people say about what it's measuring, however I've become skeptical of whether or not points are measuring what people think they are. And even moreso of whether or not it's a good use of time to do so.

Definition of a "Point"

Here's the root of my problem with story points. What are they and what do they measure? These aren't simple questions, either. If you read here, you get the idea that points are a measure of complexity. However, this StackExchange answer tells the reader that points need to be a measure of size, not complexity. Both will tell you that points are not a measure of time, but everywhere I've run into the practice, someone has always defined a point something along the lines of "What one developer can do in one day". Which certainly implies that points are used to give some measure of time. So I have a hard time getting started here, because I don't even know what I'm supposed to be measuring. Time? Size? Complexity? The amount of effort it takes for two women to have one baby? 

What's the Point, anyway?

I promise- I'll stop doing that now. Maybe talking through why we need points, we can come to an agreement on what they are. We need them for estimating, right? But estimating what? The amount you can do in a two week sprint? The amount of time you need to finish a certain set of features in a product? After all, you assign points, add them up, and divide by about what your velocity has been, right? Because that works.

Except, of course, it doesn't. Addressing the latter poi ISSUE ::ahem:: first, we all know that doesn't work. Regardless of what some may say, points do not mean you don't need to re-estimate. Software development is a process that builds on itself with every build adding to the whole an impacting the effort/size/complexity/time needed for future changes. I'd be very dubious of the point value of any story not going into the next sprint. I'd be even more dubious of any time estimates derived from arithmetic on points, velocity, and time.

So, maybe it's a good way of determining what can be worked on in the coming sprint. Problem is, without definitive answers to the question "What does a point measure", using points to determine what stories can fit into a sprint is a terribly uncertain process.

If we take the definition of points being a measure of the size of the story, then we truly have no idea how long a story will take. In fact, the StackExchange user in the link I referenced illustrated this very thing. He gave examples of the complexity of a 5-point sized story varying by a number of factors, leading to wildly different completion times. I don't really see that as a practical way to plan a sprint. More importantly, I don't think the people who expect me to plan sprints will see that as a practical way of planning sprints.

If we take the definition of points measuring complexity, we run into a different problem. How do you measure "complexity"? It's not like defining the length of a metre or defining a joule. the only way is to compare the complexity of one thing to the complexity of other things until you get something that feels like a match. Inaccurate, sure. But that's why it's called "estimating" and not "precision". I'd be basically okay with this except for a couple of things:

1. That which is complex to one developer may not be to another. Planning Poker is supposed to account for this, but it doesn't. In fact, it ironically exacerbates the problem it claims to solve. My 5 point complexity story may be another's 2 point complexity. To assign it 5 or 2, then, is meaningless outside the context of the developer who will be working on it. And splitting the difference to make it 3 or 4 is just compounding the uncertainty of an already uncertain process.
2. Complexity has nothing to do with the amount of time it takes to do the task. Planning Poker assumes that every developer handles every type of complexity in the same way and at the same pace. Maybe one guy tackles a complex story by diving in and coding until he grinds to a solution. Maybe another takes time to read more on the subject, asking questions, and only starting when he feels he has a better understanding of the subject. Given this, complexity can only correlate with time if every developer approaches complexity the same way.

Either way you look at it, you're trying to objectively quantify a series of subjective data points. Logic 101 tells us that this is a highly inaccurate way of measuring anything.

Velocity

Finally, we get to Velocity, which I'm pretty sure is the whole reason we bother to keep track of points in the first place. Velocity is nothing more than the sum of the points of the stories in a given sprint. It purports to measure the amount of work done in a sprint so you can compare to other sprints and then plan a timeline for future features.

Where to start.

First off, all this gives you is a comparison of how you've been objectively quantifying the subjective sprint over sprint. But as a comparison of the actual work done? All you're doing is comparing arbitrary numbers to arbitrary numbers and pretending it's a meaningful measure of productivity.

Secondly, using this as a future planning tool is a recipe for disaster. In order to make that work, you'd have to give point estimates to everything in your backlog and then continually refine those estimates in light of what the previous sprints have accomplished. Do that for long enough, and sure. your velocity will become a more and more accurate tool for predicting the amount of work the team can handle. But at what cost? At what time commitment?

Conclusion (WHEW!)

I'm not saying we need to stop estimating anything. Projects, stories, releases, versions, whatever unit of work that is needed, all need to come with some idea of what it takes to accomplish them. What I am saying is that we need to re-think the whole point estimation bit and ask ourselves if this isn't just an overly complicated process. Effort, complexity, productivity- these are all complex issues that are impossible to quantify in a simple context. Maybe we need to stop trying. Because I really hate unnecessary complexity. I'm not even much of a fan of necessary complexity. I'm lazy and don't want to work any harder than I have to in order to solve problems.

Next article, what I see as the real root of the problem and what I have started doing about it.

New Challenges

"Be careful of what you wish for. You might get it".

Hard to say where that comes from, although some cite it as a misquote of Goethe. The image, of course, is from the amazing mind of Bill Watterson and his Calvin and Hobbes comic.

Regardless, that is kind of the source of why I haven't been writing much lately and why I'm starting again. I tend to write about what I'm seeing and experiencing. Which, over the last few years, has become fairly routine. After writing a good bit about my thoughts on Software Architecture, it became the task of taking my own advice.

So what changed? A chance to get what I asked for, namely a chance to go from helping insure quality in a software system to helping insure quality in a development team. The company I work for has a relatively new development team that operates fundamentally differently than our other teams. This team doesn't support a product. Instead, they handle smaller projects that have a more rigid "Definition of Done", as opposed to continued development and support of a product. This has come with more than a few challenges. Challenges that I have a pretty free hand to solve, but challenges that will take a lot of solving.

All this has put me in an interesting opportunity. Processes are getting built from the ground up. We have leave to borrow from other teams the processes we feel are helpful, as well as to ignore the things we feel won't benefit us. The end goal is increasing the rate of shipping quality software, and with very few exceptions I don't think the head of software development much cares how it happens. This gives me the freedom to take my biggest piece of advice to anyone designing software. Or, for that matter, anyone currently living and interacting with the world in any way:

“This, what is it in itself, and by itself, according to its proper constitution? What is the substance of it? What is the matter, or proper use? What is the form, or efficient cause? What is it for in this world, and how long will it abide? Thus must thou examine all things that present themselves unto thee.” --Meditations, Marcus Aurelius

In other words, "Question everything". Some ideas are worth leaving alone. Questioning the necessity of engagement between the business and development is a lot like questioning gravity. Feel free, just stay away from ledges. But how do you do these things when the business units aren't used to that engagement and don't understand the value in it. And that's not looking down on anyone- how can you know the value of something until it's been shown to you?

Beyond that, what traditional roles in Agile projects do we need? Which can we live without, and which should we live without? What do these roles mean, and how do we make sure everyone knows what an iceberg is?

What about the team? What common practices do we need? What offers us the best value in our situation. Not just what others are doing or what generally works well, but what works well for us?

These are the questions I'm asking myself and the ideas I'm exploring. I'm sure we'll go down some odd paths, and probably even the (hopefully) occasional bad path. And hopefully, my philosophy that understanding the world leads to understanding software still holds.

Preconceptions of Architects

"Science progresses best when observations force us to alter our preconceptions." --Vera Rubin

Been doing a lot of reading, been doing a lot of thinking. Having moved to a new company, I'm seeing my role in a different light, which is expected. Being the company's first architect, helping better define the role, and starting to work with development teams who are not used to working with an architect has really gotten me thinking. And reading some more.

I've read a lot of concerns about architects. Concerns that surprised me because they haven't been my experience, so I'm a little curious if these concerns are holdovers from days gone by (or at least going by) or if they are still relevant concerns. Either way, since the concerns are still talked about, I see a lot of value in looking at them and learning from them.

Architects are Ivory Tower Theorists

I've run into this before, and for good reasons. This is one have seen as a problem- designs getting passed on and the architect disappearing. Now, the disappearing act was often due to the fact that another effort had been dropped on an architect in a sorely understaffed group, but that doesn't mean the perception doesn't need changing.

Architects value theory over practicality

I'm kind of split on this one. There's a fine line here. Architects have to take the long view. I've sometimes said that I'm not working on this project, I'm working on the next one for this product. On the other hand, strict adherence to OO theory and complete Protected Variation (If indeed there is such a thing) are worthless if you can't get the project out the door. One of the biggest challenges of my career has been justifying a design that takes into account change that only might happen. I've found that YAGNI is a moving target.

Architects over complicate everything

Kind of an extension of number 2, but it goes a bit farther. A former manager of mine once said that an elegant design is one that makes the solution seem simple to the point of obviousness. I've often told developers that if I have to answer more than two clarifying questions about my design, then I made it too complicated.

So, what's the answer? I'm a pretty big believer in the idea that there isn't a "The" answer to much of anything, but I've been mulling over one answer. 

Architecture is an Agile project with the development team.

The parallels hit me recently. We provide a product for developers and should interact with them under the same principles under which developers interact with the business on a project.

Constant interaction

A sure sign that something has gone off the rails is an architect not knowing who is implementing a design. Just as an Agile development project requires constant communication with the client, so should we have constant communication and feedback from developers. A good development team doesn't need low-level guidance, be it from an architect, manager, or anyone else. But if the development team can't give feedback to the architect, then one of two things happen. Either they implement a flawed design or they ignore the design. Toss a coin as to which will cause more problems.

This doesn't mean an architect always has to incorporate developer feedback into the design. Sometimes you just have to say "No, this is the way we have to do it". I've done that once. Ever.

Factum non dictum

Deeds, not words. While thinking things through is important, even mandatory, at some point you have to act. And that point should be sooner, rather than later. Action is a funny thing. I've found that acting refines my thinking faster than thinking does. I've also found that action breeds more action. When I'm providing designs, rather than thinking about them, I get feedback faster (See the last heading) and thus work more efficiently.

But this isn't just about translating thoughts to deeds. How does one "act" as an architect? Over the years, I've come to three methods of communication:

1. For simple things, talk to the developers. More than that isn't necessary if things are simple. "We have a web service that manages this functionality. Let's use that rather than developing a new library." "Let's use SSIS for this task"
2. For moderately complex projects, I'll go ahead and use UML, but only if the resulting diagram doesn't look like a spider threw up a Visio diagram. If I have to actually follow a line with my finger to see what elements it connects, UML isn't helpful.
3. Code is best communicated using code. There's a reason we call them "Languages" and there's a reason we have the phrase "Lost in the translation". With some things, I'll create a library with stubbed classes and a few examples based on project use cases and acceptance criteria. I don't mean this as a final design to be carved in stone, but rather a communication of a thought using a language natural to the discussion.

They don't work for you, you don't work for them

Developers and Architects are two sides of a coin. And while Architects may be used to giving guidance and oversight to developers, we sometimes forget that developers can, and should, give guidance and oversight to Architects.

In his book Software Architecture for Developers, Simon Brown compares Architects to Master Masons, responsible for design and oversight of the work and the workers. I think there's a lot of truth to that, but that's just one part of the relationship. Architects, I've found, love to talk theory. I've spent hours comparing design patterns, arguing the possible effects of a given DI Framework, or just whether or not a particular class should be considered an Interface or an Abstract class. Which is all a heck of a lot of fun. But if discussion hinders progress then the development team has the oversight, and even the responsibility, to say "Knock it off and deliver something already!"

Check your ego at the door

Fortunately, there's one thing that makes this all far easier to manage. In a good development department, everyone's a professional working towards the successful delivery of a quality product. That goes a long way. If the development team accepts the realities of an architect and the architect accepts the realities of practical software development, then it's highly unlikely there will be significant problems. Which begs the question, when conflict arises am I the one holding too tightly to my ideas or not communicating them well? Part of why I'm writing this is to remind myself to ask these questions of myself.

The Tipping Point

"You can push that car just a little too far any Sunday afternoon. And if you break your neck in some damnfool wreck, they forget about you soon." --Charlie Daniels, "Stroker Ace"

I generally prefer to work at small to midsize companies. The reasoning is fairly simple, too. I like flexibility. Not a complete lack of defined policies, mind you. Policies are important. They give companies a road map for, if not efficiency, then at least predictable inefficiency. But smaller companies tend to have the flexibility to know when you need to stray off the beaten path. Large companies do not. And there's a certain logic behind that. The more you do, the more you rely on that predictability. Policies have saved my neck a time or two. Being able to say "I can't start this effort because our policies have not been followed" has forced projects to refine requirements and has gone a long way to prevent train wrecks. But there's a flip side, too.

At larger companies, it's harder to change policies that either no longer fit, or need refinement from the original draft in order to produce the intended result. There's also more risk in proposing new policies, I think. There generally tend to be more people that need convincing, which tends to mean more people that don't want to "Change what has been working for us". It often comes to a point where it's easier to just live with the inefficiency than try to change it. Or worse, at least in some ways, ignore policy and try not to get caught.

Okay. So far, I haven't told anyone something they don't know. This is one of the factors that need to be weighed when deciding whether or not to accept an offer or to leave a company. It's, hopefully, one of the factors you investigate when interviewing a company. As an aside, please note that I didn't say "interviewing with a company." You're as much deciding whether or not to offer them your services as they are offering you a position. Never forget, you're a contractor.

The point is, while working for smaller companies, I've noticed a reoccurring phenomenon, which I've started calling The Tipping Point. As smaller companies grow, they start to take on more work and start to do more. At this point, I have observed two results.

If the company does not at least have some policies guiding their work, the company tends to collapse. There comes a time when it's simply too late to gain control of source code, whether because nothing is in source control or there's no structure. When it's simply too late to implement good project policies because stakeholders aren't interested in becoming properly involved in projects and that disinterest is too entrenched to change. When projects are dangerous to deploy because no one knows what anyone else is doing. At this point, while the company may struggle on, it's no longer possible to fix the problems, and the only smart move is to leave.

The second result I've observed usually happens when there are a modicum of policies in place, and is usually hastened by bringing in An Expert. Perhaps a new CIO, perhaps a contractor. The buildup, again in my observations, tends to start slowly. No deploying projects without communicating with other groups. Nothing terrible there. Common sense, in fact. Issues, bugs, and defects need to be logged. Again- why would you not? And we need to get a sense of how much we're spending on projects, so we need people to log time spend on projects. Not my favorite activity, but I can't deny the importance.

But then things grow. Communicating deployments becomes getting signoff from other groups before deploying. The bug tracking system becomes a full-on change management system designed to integrate with every step of any process. Except yours, inevitably. Rather than turning in time tracking spreadsheets, either a web app gets build, or you're to use a built-in feature of the change management system.

Finally, comes the tipping point. I wish I could say this is an exaggeration, but in one case, I was entering time into an application that had a database lookup for projects, yet my projects never seemed to show up. I also had to email the same to my manager. The time tracker was in half hour increments, but my manager wanted 15-minute increments. Every change, even to dev environments, needed to be entered into five different systems (again- not exaggerating) and cleared in a bi-weekly Change Control Board meeting.

And all this doesn't even take into account well-documented problems when you mix in an Expert Scrum Consultant. I think I've made my opinions on the subject pretty clear, but it's pointless to deny what often happens when Scrum policies get blindly applied. And that's the problem- policies getting blindly applied. The "Monkey See Monkey Do" style of "Best Practices".

It's a rare gem when you find an organization with the self-discipline to recognize a policy that needs refining or simply removed. Or temporarily ignored on a non-precedential basis. A good set of policies are a balancing act. Too many and you get buried under their weight. Too few and you get buried under your own weight. That's The Tipping Point.

Dear Recruiters

Start with what is right rather than what is acceptable." --Franz Kafka

An open letter to recruiters. Mainly recruiters for software developers, but I suspect much of these are reasonable requests for all sectors.

1. Please stop saying "Leading provider of". Sure- you want to give the idea that your client is A Major Player. Fine. All good. But using rehashed buzzwords doesn't convey that idea. The phrase is like the paintings in a hotel room. If you even notice them, they have no real meaning. Instead, tell me why your client leads their industry. What have they accomplished? How do they lead? Is it through use of new technology? New innovations? Say something meaningful. Something that will have an impact.
2. Please stop telling me how many years your client has been in business. This may be useful information for clients, but potential employees aren't looking to retain their services. They're looking for a culture that fits. Generally, the amount of time a company has been in existence is irrelevant. Instead, talk about the culture. Not everyone wants to wear a suit and tie and interact with a rigid corporate structure. But not everyone wants to work in shorts and sandals, sitting on a bean bag, and walking into a Director's office for casual conversation. Laying this out will help find candidates that are a good fit for the company.
3. Proofread your communications. Twice. When I see "I think you'd be a good fit for [Job Description]", I delete the email. Same with blatant misspellings. Anymore, any text entry application comes with an automatic spell checker.
4. Read the resume. The most recent position is where your candidate has moved in his career and it's reasonable to think that that the position on purpose. If your contact is in a leadership, planning, or strategy position, it's probably a waste of time to offer direct development work. Your contact has moved on to something else and it's fair to assume that, barring unemployment, moving back isn't likely to happen.
5. Be specific. "Maintaining large applications" or "Excellent communication skills" doesn't tell me anything. Again, these are hotel room paintings. What I want is a good snapshot of my day-to-day activities. Does "Sr. Application Developer" mean "Application Developer with a lot of experience"? Does it mean "Responsible for the work of a development team"? If I don't know, I'm less likely to take a chance. And that's exactly what you're looking for. Someone who will take a chance on your job offering being better than the current one.
6. This is likely somewhat out of your control, but stop with the "X years of experience". While I realize that your client is telling you that, under the misapprehension that years of experience is an accurate measure of anything, you shouldn't have to tell that to candidates. If you can't tell from the resume how many years of experience the candidate has in the necessary technologies, then the resume has been badly written.
7. Same with this "Degree needed" or "Degree or relevant experience needed" silliness. Aside from this not being any measure of anything important, it's pointless to include in a communication to a specific candidate. If your candidate doesn't have the necessary degree, don't bother. Likewise with "Degree or relevant experience". If your candidate doesn't have either, they clearly aren't a good fit.

So, what's the bottom line here? Much like the fact that a good candidate needs to stand out in order to be seen as a good candidate, recruiters need to stand out in order to be seen as a good recruiter. You can't afford to be a carbon copy of everyone else. You can't just be hotel room art, and you can't hand over a vague description with ubiquitous buzzwords and expect to spark any interest. Instead, you need to capture the candidate's attention. You do this through clear and concise communication of what your client is looking for. You do this by standing out.

A thought to keep in mind. All the advice recruiters give to job seekers about how they present themselves through resumes and interviews? That should apply to your communications with candidates. Especially your first contact.

Agile Isn't Dead

"Best practices are useful reference points, but they must come with a warning label : The more you rely on external intelligence, the less you will value an internal idea." ― Gyan Nagpal, Talent Economics: The Fine Line Between Winning and Losing the Global War for Talent

Agile isn't dead. It's not even on life support. However, to extend an analogy that everyone in the world should stop using, it does have a couple of CAT scan anomalies it should get checked out.. I've read a few tech opinion pieces to the contrary lately, so I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring.

+Hayim Makabee wrote an excellent piece on the subject, but one that I feel missed the mark somewhat. Jim Bird wrote on a finer grained level on the subject, and if you take them together an interesting picture starts to emerge. Starting with Jim Bird's piece, he lists several "Agile" practices that aren't needed. Skipping by a few points on which I disagree, his overall point is sound. Not all common practices are necessary. Hayim Makabee takes this a step further, rightly pointing out how "Agile" or "Scrum" consultants "over-simplify the software development process and underestimate the real complexity of building software systems". And I'm not really arguing that this "one size fits all" approach is a problem. I believe that the problem's source hasn't quite come out yet.

In short, the problem is IT decision makers. Not Agile, which is just a set of principles. Not Agile consultants, who are just selling a service people have asked for. And while we can discuss the moral culpability of someone "just selling a service", the fact of the matter is that people are buying the service. And those people are IT decision makers in pursuit of a concept that has made me cringe for some time now. Best Practices. "Best practices" are like the Dark Side of the Force. Quick, simple, seductive, and once you walk down it's path, forever will it dominate your destiny. "Best Practice" is shorthand for "What everyone else is doing", and while it's the sort of thing one ought to take into account, I've seen enterprise after enterprise implement iron-clad procedures based solely on "Best Practices", or rather "Just do what the neighbors across the street are doing". And before too long, you have Citogenesis, that curious phenomena where people think something is correct because people think something is correct.

Agile is a set of principles, and as far as principles go, they're pretty darn good. Agile isn't dead because these principles are still the best way to create software. But it really needs that dark spot checked out.