software III

Don't pee your pants for nobody

This one is pretty similar to the "you'll regret the hack" thing, and I see this a lot with green developers.  With deadlines looming and a rush to get things done, you may be tempted to degrade your work from "software product" to "proof of concept".  What this means is that you're no longer building a software platform you can add to later, instead you're building specific features to try and get somebody off your back.  It works out a lot like the old metaphor about peeing your pants for warmth.

you're warm for a while, anyway...

Essentially, you solve your short-term problem but wind up with a bigger, long-term problem.  This is bad when it's a team decision, and even worse when a developer does this without telling anybody.  I've personally been in the situation where one of my developers did this sort of thing and I wasn't close enough or careful enough to know that's what was happening.  Once we got past UAT (user acceptance testing) and I started rattling off the next steps and new features to add, he turned defensive and told me he needed a few months to rework everything because everything he had just done was purpose built to get past that first deadline.  He literally set us back 6 months and absolutely destroyed my trust in him.

Hire fast, check-in faster, fire fastest

Back in the games days I had an employment model that was built around the fact that I had no idea how to hire people.  In retrospect, I was probably ahead of my time, since research seems to indicate that interviewing is almost worthless, GPA is a poor predictor of work performance, and things like pedigree and credentials are over-rated.  This was before I had ever heard of a behavioral inteview, much less experiened or conducted one.  Since I worked in computer games, every job opening I had was flooded with candidates, and often these candidates were non-traditional.  They were often wiz-kids with no college or formal training.  Sometimes they were older folks with a passion for gaming.  Some were hobbyists who wanted some extra income (that was fine, I had plenty of contract-work jobs available, too).  The hard part wasn't finding people, the hard part was knowing which ones I could count on.

This was especially important for my projects with really short timelines and really tight budgets.  One really flaky developer could derail the entire project (and with it the budget and with the budget my paycheck for weeks or months).

The approach I came up with was "Hire fast, check in faster, fire fastest".

I googled "you're fired" and somehow this image came up.  It somehow seems better than anything else I could have put here.

Basically, I gave a job to anybody who wanted one.  Every new employee would get a single work product to deliver and two weeks to deliver it.  The work product was always something I actually needed and something that I knew could be done in two weeks.  Anybody who didn't get the work done on time was fired.  No questions asked, no conversation, no excuses.  What I had learned was that anybody who is willing to flub their very first impression will continue to disappoint thereafter.  Honestly, this got rid of around 80% of the people I hired.

I've applied this rule in a general sense in many ways since.  If I'm looking to hire a painter and he shows up late to discuss the quote, I take him out of the running.  I once had a buddy ask me to help him find a contractor to build a block wall around his house.  The guy showed up 30 minutes late and I told my friend not to hire him.  My friend did anyway and since I'm telling this story here, I'm sure you can imagine he never got his wall.

Hit the easy problems first

There's the rule when you're playing pool.  When one of your balls is sitting right on the pocket, you don't shoot that shot.  It will probably get knocked in on its own and you're really just wasting a shot.  That mindset is completely misplaced here.

a tempting but misleading metaphor!

Really this is probably just a good project management thing.  If you leave the little problems until they end, nothing good can come of it.  If they really are little, you'll just have a shit-ton of little problems to sort through and fatigue will build.  If any of them turn out not to be little problems (and some of them will end up a lot bigger than you originally thought) you suddenly have big problems that you weren't expecting, popping up right at the end of your project, when you don't have time to course-correct effectively.

Do those little, easy-looking things as early as you can.  Sprinkling in small wins helps to keep you from getting worn down on big projects.  Also, it gives you the chance to adjust your timelines or features if you wind up facing some big, unforeseen shitshow!

this thing again

software development II

You will always regret the hack

Every project gets hairy at some point.  Deadlines start to loom, customer requirements start to tighten, subcontractors and ingredient suppliers are late or flake out entirely.  The team gets stressed and the iron triangle reminds you of its immutable force:

the ol' iron triangle

Adding resources at this point never works.  Even if you have some ninja team of superhuman developers in your back pocket, they won't be able to parachute in at the last minute and do anything right away other than churn the project and introduce more problems.

Slipping the schedule is always tempting.  Reducing features is often what happens.  Sometimes we're smart about it and try to stage them together; reduce the features in the first release, with a schedule for releasing the remainder of the features in the future.

The worst thing that happens is when the decision is made to fight the triangle and keep the same schedule with the same features.  When that happens something else gives--Quality.

In software, when quality slips this usually means that the developers start to introduce hacks.

Magic numbers start to appear instead of declared variables.  Convoluted blocks of nested code get tucked into other functions instead of broken out into separate functions.  Blocks of code get commented out.  Blocks of code go undocumented.  Temporary variable names that make no sense get introduced.  Single purpose design takes over and expandable, scalable features fall by the way-side.  Unit tests and BAT tests go unwritten.

Your software product effectively gets downgraded to proof-of-concept.  When you need to build more later, you're instead spending time refactoring the junk you slapped together.  When users find errors it takes 5x as long to troubleshoot.  At the end of the day, you give up a lot more than you gained and always, always regret it.

Software Development

I've been doing professional software development of some kind or another since the mid-90's.  I wrote my first program on a Timex Sinclair when I was 10 years old, and taught myself Assembly to try to squeeze more into the 2K of RAM it came with.

pictured here with the 16K RAM upgrade!!  That changed everything!!

A lot has changed since then (thankfully).  Along the way I learned a lot of lessons--all of them the hard way.  Looking back at my first attempts at building a company, developing a brand, organizing a development methodology and cultivating people I realize I did things about as wrong as I could.

Here are some of those lessons.  Maybe you won't have to learn them the hard way, too...

Produce excellence, especially when you're not asked for it

My first commercial products were euphemistically called "Casual Games" or "Budget Extreme Sports Games" or more correctly "Shovelware".  Google "Extreme Paintbrawl" and read some of the reviews.  Enjoy the laughs and then come on back.

Extreme Paintbrawl and the games like it were precisely what our publisher hired us to do.  One important guy at a publisher told us "You could literally take a shit on the CD and I could sell it with the right licensing, just get them done as fast as possible."  So that's what we did.  We banged out junky games as fast as we could, because that's what we were hired to do.

This kept the lights on, and kept our customer satisfied, but it didn't lead anywhere.  Later on, when we tried to land bigger, higher-quality projects, nobody was interested.  We had a reputation for producing junk games at light speed.  Literally nobody would give us a shot at producing a quality game with more time and more budget.  In retrospect, they were probably right.  We had a shovelware culture and I'm not certain we could have turned the corner.

At the same time, a friend of mine with a very similar company and very similar starting point aligned his people around producing beautiful, compelling games.  He had the same customers, the same deadlines and the same budgets.  They were late all the time, the games were completely over-engineered relative to the spec, and they didn't make any money on those games, but they proved that his group could do really nice work.  They successfully segued into AAA games while I wound up throwing in the towel and leaving the industry.

Get a monkey on a football

On one of my early projects we had to develop a considerable amount of development infrastructure from scratch.  We were building a new rendering engine, new level design tools, new asset management tools and were working out of a basement.  Weeks went by with no visible progress to show the customer.  They started freaking out and threatened to cancel the contract.

I came up with a schedule of visible milestones to deliver to the customer.  For the first one I said "Look, I don't care if we render a monkey riding a flying football around the course, we have to show these guys something!!"  "A Monkey on a Football" became our catch-phrase for tangible customer deliverables that may not be completely required for the technical aspects of the development, but are completely required to make sure that your customers know you're moving forward.

It is a lesson I should have internalized from an earlier interaction with a guy named "Joris" in the Netherlands.  Joris had worked for us before and we hired him to write the AI for Santa in one of our early projects called "Nuclear Winter".  Joris kept telling us he was making progress and we kept believing him without demaning tangible proof.  When the time came for Joris to turn in his code, Joris disappeared.  Then he turned in corrupt zips, then disappeared again.  Eventually, Joris admitted that he hadn't done any work at all.  He had spent his entire advance on phonesex with some woman in Kansas that he was in love with and he needed more money from us and then he promised he would get right to work.  

So now, I always demand a monkey on a football from the folks who are working on my team, and I always give a monkey on a football to my stakeholders.

I have a few more, but my blogging time is up for this week... I'll post them another time.