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In 2018, I started working at Bloomberg. Things have changed a lot since. I’m not the most junior member in the company anymore and I’ve mentored quite a few new engineers, which has been amazing. It helped me observe how others differ from me, absorb their best practices, and figure out things I’ve unconsciously been doing pretty well.
Yearly work reviews are a good way to condense these lessons I’ve learned. They’re valuable for pattern matching, too. Only when I zoom out do certain patterns become visible. I can then start tracking these patterns consciously.
The broad theme for this year is zooming out and challenging the boundaries. It’s also about zooming in, and adding nuance to the sections from last year. It’s more fun if you’ve read last year’s review first: You can then diff my growth.1
It all began with a question: How do I grow further?
Growing using different ladders of abstraction
Entering my second year, I had all the basics in place. I had picked all the low hanging fruit, and my rate of growth slowed down. Not good. The big question in my mind was “How do I grow further?”
There was only so much I could do to improve my coding skills. Most blogs epousing techniques to write cleaner code, repeating yourself, not repeating yourself, etc. are micro-optimisations. Almost none of them would make me instantly impactful.2
However, I did figure out something insightful. I’m working inside the software development lifecycle, but this lifecycle is part of a bigger lifecycle: the product and infrastructure development lifecycle. I decided to go broader instead of deeper. Surprisingly, the breadth provided more depth to what I knew.
I zoomed out in 3 broad directions: learning what people around me are doing, learning good habits of mind, and acquiring new tools for thought.
Learning what people around me are doing
Since we’re not in a closed system, it makes sense to better understand the job of the product managers, the sales people, and the analysts. In the end it’s a business making money through products. The goal isn’t to write code, it’s to be a profitable business.3
Most big companies aren’t doing just one thing, which means there are different paths to making money in the same company. Everyone is on at least one path - if they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here.4 Tracking these paths, and the path I’m on was pretty valuable. It helped me see how I matter, and what levers I can pull to become more effective. Sometimes, it’s about making the sales jobs easier, so they can make more sales. Other times, it’s about building a new feature for clients. And some other times, it’s about improving a feature that keeps breaking.
Product managers are the best source for this. They know how the business makes money, who are the clients, and what do clients need.
Over the year, I setup quite a few meetings with everyone on my path. A second benefit this gave me was the context of other’s jobs. It helped me communicate better. Framing things in the right way is powerful.
For example, one conversation helped me appreciate why Sarah in Sales wants a bulk update tool. Some companies have lots of employees, and updating them one by one is a pain. The code I write would literally ease Sarah’s pain.
Learning good habits of mind
Software engineering entails thinking well and making the right decisions. Programming is implementing those decisions.
A habit of mind is something your brain does regularly. This could be thinking of X whenever you see Y happen, or applying thinking tool X to problem Y. In short, habits of mind facilitate better thinking.
I suspected if I learn the general skill, I should be able to apply it better to software engineering.
Software engineering is an excellent field to practice thinking well in. The feedback loops are shorter, and gauging correctness doesn’t take too long.
I dived into cognitive science studies. It’s a permanent skill that’s worth exploring - a force multiplier for whatever I end up doing, and pays dividends throughout my life. One output was a framework for critical thinking. It’s compounding, and compounding is powerful.
There’s lots of good things that came out of this, which I’ll talk about in a bit. They deserve their own section.
Strategies for making day-to-day more effective
The other side of the coin is habits that allow you to think well. It starts with noticing little irritations during the day, inefficiencies in meetings, and then figuring out strategies to avoid them. These strategic improvements are underrated.
You decide what to do, and then let it run on automatic, freeing up the brain to think of more fun stuff. Of course, that’s what a habit is, too.
Some good habits I’ve noticed:
- Never leave a meeting without making the decision / having a next action
- Decide who is going to get it done. Things without an owner rarely get done.
- Document design decisions made during a project
This pattern became visible during the review, so I’m keen to pay attention and collect more strategies next year. Having an excellent scrum master who holds me accountable has helped me get better at following these strategies.
Acquiring new tools for thought & mental models
New tools for thought are related to thinking well, but more specific to software engineering. Tools for thought help me think better about specific engineering problems.
I’ve adopted a just-in-time approach to this. I look for new tools only when I get stuck on something, or when I find out my abstractions and design decisions aren’t working well.
For example, I was recently struggling with a domain with lots of complex business logic. Edge cases were the norm, and we wanted to design a system that handles this cleanly. That’s when I read about Domain Driven Design5. I could instantly put it to practice and make a big difference. Subsequently, I grasped these concepts better. I acquired a new mental model of how to create enterprise software.
The second way I keep learning and acquiring new mental models is via reading what surfaces on Hacker News. They are interesting ideas, some of which I’ve put to practice, but this is a lot less effective than the technique above. The only reason I still do this is to map the territory - it keeps me aware of techniques that exist, so when I face a problem, I know there’s a method that might help.
The final way I acquire better mental models is by learning new diverse languages. The diversity bit is important. Learning yet another dialect of lisp has a lot less benefit than say, learning C++03, a functional programming language, a dynamic typed language, and a lisp. Today, J seems interesting, and one I might consider learning. It’s a thinking model I haven’t used before.
I’ve gotten lots of value from doing this. Each language has its own vocabulary and grammar, and vocabulary is a meta-mental model. It’s a new lens to look at how to do things.
Broadly, that’s all I did this year. What follow are insights that sprang forth thanks to zooming out.
Protect your slack
When I say slack, I don’t mean the company, but the adjective.
One thing that gives me high output and productivity gains is to “slow down”. Want to get more done? Slow down.
Caveats apply, but here’s what I mean:
I’ve noticed people rush to solve problems. It can be something they’ve done before, or something we have a template for. It feels pretty good to smash through things. I’ve done that before, too! However, there’s very specific cases where this makes sense.6
Whenever I’m working on something new, I take the time to learn things about the system I’m working on, and things closely related to it. If it’s too massive, I optimise for learning as much as I can. Every time I revisit the system, I aim to learn more.
When there is slack, you get a chance to experiment, learn, and think things through. This means you get enough time to get things done.
When there is no slack, deadlines are tight, and all your focus goes into getting shit done.
Protecting your slack means not letting deadlines wrap tight around you. Usually, this is as simple (or hard) as communicating.7
Slack might have a negative connotation with “slackers”, but protecting slack is a super power. It’s a long term investment into building yourself up at the cost of short term efficiency.
When I’m quickly dishing out stories, I also have a much harder time fixing bugs. I don’t take the time to create proper mental models of the system, which means my assumptions don’t match the code, and this mismatch is where most bugs lie.
I protect my slack, so I can take the time out to prioritise learning things over doing things.8
One of my favourite use cases for slack is experimentation. Sometimes, I’ll find a bug that makes zero sense to me. I notice I’m confused, find an answer on Stack Overflow, and continue. However, this keeps bugging me until I understand the bug. Stack Overflow answered it, but didn’t explain what was wrong in my understanding. To build up my understanding, I need to experiment.
If I have no slack, I have no time to experiment, which means I have to forget about the bug. When there’s slack, I can run experiments to find out exactly what was missing from my understanding. I love moments like these, when I uncover something new about the system. It makes me a lot more effective the next time around.
We’re generally bad at asking questions. Either we fear they’ll make us look dumb, so we don’t ask them at all, or we ask them with long preambles that’s more about how we’re not dumb, rather than learning more about the thing.
The thing is, you can’t judge a question as dumb until you figure out the answer. The way I get around this is to declare I’ll ask lots of questions. This frees me up to start from the bottom and patch the holes in my understanding. A positive team culture helps, too.
For example, here’s my journey learning about packaging software:
Q: What is a package?
A: It’s code wrapped together that can be installed on a system.
Q: Why do I need packages? A: They give a consistent way of getting all the files you need in the right place. Without them, things are easy to mess up. You need to ensure every file is where it’s supposed to be, the system paths are set up, and dependent packages are available.
Q: How do packages differ from applications I can install on my system?
A: It’s a very similar idea! Windows installer is like a package manager that helps install applications. Similarly, DPKG and rpm packages are like
.exes that you can install on Linux systems, with the help of
yum package managers, which are like the windows installers.
Q: I see. So, this
setup.py in python somehow converts into a
dpkg? How does that work?
A: We have a python-debhelper that runs
setup.py for the conversion.
Q: Oh, how very interesting! How did you figure this out?
debian/rules file contains instructions on how to create a
dpkg. I looked at it to figure this out.
Then I know it’s time for me to look at the documentation. I have enough pieces to make sense of the outline. Turns out, this wasn’t as simple as I thought, and it wasn’t a dumb question to ask.
This is a habit of mind I’ve cultivated, and there are some good questions you can always ask. Most of them are context-dependent, but I do have one favourite general question.
It’s called playing the meta: How did you find out X?
When I ask someone something, and they answer it, the next thing I ask is how did they figure it out? That helps me do it myself the next time around. I did this above, which taught me about the
debian/rules file and how it works.
Another good question is to ask about what confuses you.9
One fine day, I was working with datetimes in Python. These were dates our search engine would index, and we wanted them in UTC. So, I modified our pipeline to convert dates to UTC before ingestion. This required making these dates timezone-aware.
I created a datetime like this:
import datetime from pytz import timezone indexed_date = datetime.datetime(2019, 11, 20, 12, 2, 0, tzinfo=timezone('Asia/Kolkata'))
In my tests, this conversion was off by 23 minutes. I didn’t notice it at the time, but seeing this confused me. So, I modified the test offset to -23 minutes, so the tests would pass.
It’s… a pretty shitty way of thinking. Once I noticed this, I couldn’t un-see it. It sometimes still haunts me that I let this pass.
Of course, someone commented on the PR with “this looks wrong” - which jerked me out of my default thinking, to actually figure out what went wrong here.
It’s a pretty epic bug. Pytz has timezone information throughout ages. Before 1942, the timezone for Asia/Calcutta was +5:53:20. (Yes, even the city name was different). When pytz timezones are passed into a new date, there’s no reference date to match the timezone to the year. So, it defaults to the first available timezone - which is wrong. The docs mention this, too. The right way is to use
tzinfo.localize(), which matches the date to the appropriate timezone, since it’s pytz which is now doing the conversion.
import datetime from pytz import timezone tz=timezone('Asia/Kolkata') indexed_date = tz.localize(datetime.datetime(2019, 11, 20, 12, 2, 0))
I wouldn’t have found out about this if that PR review didn’t trigger me. It exposed this scary mode of thinking where I push confusion under the rug. I’ve been wary ever since.
To stop this from happening again, I’ve started training my “noticing muscles”. This is called noticing confusion. Not just when writing code, but with everything, there’s a tendency to explain away confusion, pushing it under the rug.
Every time you hear something that sounds weird, and you rush to explain why it must be true, you’re pushing confusion under the rug. I’ve written more about this here.
Once you start noticing confusion, you can ask questions about what confuses you. That might have sounded trite in the previous section, but I hope this context helps. The tricky bit is noticing what confused you.
One fine sprint, I accidentally felt the power of the Force.
the Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.
I think Obi Wan Kenobi was onto something, albeit in the wrong domain. It’s something I can leverage in software engineering: becoming a force multiplier.
That sprint I didn’t get much done myself. I wrote very limited code. Instead, I co-ordinated which changes should go out when (it was a complicated sprint), tested they worked well, did lots of code reviews, made alternate design suggestions, and pair-programmed wherever I could to get things un-stuck. We got everything done, and in this case, zooming out helped make decisions for PRs easier. It was one of our highest velocity sprints.
the Force is what gives an engineer his power. It’s an energy field created by all things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the code together.
Alright, I won’t stretch this analogy further.
Figuring out how to become a force multiplier sounds more valuable to me than a 10x developer. In practice, a good force multiplier (or divider) is the team culture.
Just like I can create habits of mind to multiply my output, so can the entire team. This happens with the team culture. Retrospectives, reviews, and experiments are everything a team does to mould their culture. The culture is always in flux, as team members come and go, adding their personal touches.
A culture that empowers is a force multiplier. I was able to do what I did above because our culture allowed it. Our team culture looks at the team’s output for the sprint, not the individual outputs. This allowed me to optimise for the team getting lots done, instead of focusing on myself.
The team shapes the culture, and the culture shapes the team.
This idea even extends to cities and nations:
A society that is under constant military threat will have a culture that celebrates martial virtues, a society that features a cooperative economy will strongly stigmatize laziness, an egalitarian society will treat bossiness as a major personality flaw, an industrial society with highly regimented work schedules will prize punctuality, and so on. - Why the Culture Wins
We’re 3 teams at BNEF, and we share a Jenkins setup for automated testing. There was a big Jenkins maintenance task upcoming, and I chose to own it. This meant figuring out how to do things, arranging meetings to discuss improvements and alternatives, and finally, coordinating implementation.
Except, I didn’t know I’ll be doing all that when I chose to own it. I just thought it would be fun.
I messaged on our group chat about alternatives I had come up with. The conversation soon died, possibly because everyone was busy with something. I noticed feeling “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here now”. So I decided to get on with my other sprint tasks.
My instinct here went “oh well, I tried. Someone will reply someday and then we can continue the conversation”. I had played the role of the owner, without becoming the owner.
I was surprised when I noticed this. It was a hilariously bad way of managing. Everyone is working on something, and that is what they’re thinking about, not my stuff. So, it’s my responsibility to bring their attention to it.
Two days after the initial chat (that’s how long it took me to reflect and figure out I was in the wrong), I messaged again explaining what I decided, and what work will spill over to which team. This was the second time I was surprised: everyone agreed. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, it’s just that they had nothing more to add after the first chat.
I cherish this experience a lot. It taught me some important habits: always follow up, and if you own a task, it’s your responsibility to move it forward. Don’t get stuck playing the role, actually get shit done: be it by delegating or doing it yourself.
It also reinforced a meta habit: cherish surprise. Surprise is a measure of mismatch between what you predicted and what actually happened. This is a brilliant opportunity to change your mind.
Okay, one final story. Last year, I worked on a side project that failed. It was one of those projects where I learn a new language, a new way of doing things, and test a product hypothesis. It was surprisingly difficult to stick to the project - I felt fear whenever I’d think about it.
This was a huge ball of feelings I couldn’t ignore. It primed me to notice subtler pangs of the same feeling, specially at work. Whenever there’s a daunting task ahead of me and I don’t already know how to do it, this feeling creeps back. “Ugh, how would this work? I have no idea yet.”
I’ve learned to embrace this feeling. It excites me. It’s information about what I’m going to learn. I’ve taken it so far that I’ve started tracking it in my human log - “Did I feel fear this week?” If the answer is no too many weeks in a row, I’ve gotten too comfortable.10
Fear is information
This meta skill of noticing what’s going on in the brain is a powerful monitoring and diagnostic tool. Just like cron jobs that periodically check the health of the system, reviews check and improve your health: mental and physical. That’s exactly the purpose of this post too: it’s my annual work review.
This review wouldn’t be complete without adding nuance to last years sections. You can see last year’s here.
There’s this funny meme in software engineering which reduces things down to copying from Stack Overflow. It’s a dangerous pattern when new engineers start believing the meme. There’s a lot of things happening, the nuance of which is lost when we say “copy from SO”.
Here’s an example of what copying from SO might look like. Let’s say I’m trying to list all permutations from a generator. Then:
- This is not a coding interview, so I can look for libraries that do this for me. I don’t know what to use, yet.
- I google it, and find I can use
itertools.permutations([1,2,3,4])to generate permutations of a list.
- Okay, golden! So now I convert the generator to a list, copy this code, and then pass the list in. I’m done.
Now, let’s say product requirements are to sort these in lexicographic order. So I write a sort function that works on lists of lists.
Except, it doesn’t work. I find out that
permutations returns a list of tuples, so I go back to my sorting function and convert it to work on list of tuples.
A while later, product comes back with new requirements: these permutations are too long, and we want to make things faster. We only need permutations of length 4, no matter how big the list.
Ugh. Okay. Since I already have a function for generating all permutations, I do that and take the first 4 elements from each permutation tuple. I realise this leads to duplicates, so I put these tuples in a set, then apply the sorting function to get them in the right order.
And now I’m done. Phew, this was hard work, but hey, everyone is sort of happy! The permutation function is still pretty slow for long lists, so I add an item in the backlog to get to it sometime.
If I had taken the time to check the documentation for
itertools.permutations, to understand what it does, I would have noticed: it has a parameter for the length of permutations you want to return. It returns a list of tuples. And, it returns them in sorted order. Further, the input argument is not a list, but an iterable, so I could’ve passed in the generator. It was going to get converted into a tuple anyway though, so this doesn’t matter.
This example might seem trivial, but the thinking machinery behind it is not. I’ve noticed this almost happen to me with sufficiently complex APIs and misdirecting names.
In short, my rule is “I don’t write code I don’t understand”. Just like the “copy from SO” meme, this rule has tacit knowledge that gets lost in translation. For example, what does it mean to understand code?
There are at least three different levels of understanding: you might understand exactly what
itertools.permutations would produce, you might understand how it does it, or at an even deeper level, you might understand why it makes those implementation decisions.
Level 1 is understanding what the function or API does.
Level 2 is understanding how it does it (the code).
Level 3 is understanding why it does it the way it does.
For well designed APIs and things you don’t want to learn in depth, Level 1 works.
However, Level 1 is the bare minimum. Level 0 is what we saw in the example above, and it’s problematic. Another example is copying existing team templates for the first time, whic is somewhere between a level 0 and 1 understanding.
Yes, there’s a trade-off. Level 0 is super quick, while getting to Level 3 takes a lot of time.
I slow things down when I don’t copy paste existing templates. But when I have enough slack11, I choose to get a Level 1 understanding before I write code. This usually means I’m slow the first time around, but over time, I get much faster. I deepen my understanding a little bit every time, and this helps me solve bugs quickly. I prioritise learning over getting things done.
And, yes, I do break the rule sometimes. Some situations demand a quick and easy hack.
Sometimes, open-source documentation sucks. When this happens, you need a level 2 understanding to give you the level 1 understanding: you go read the source code. Whenever I have to do this, I remember to preserve context for future-me. It’s hard work to understand someone else’s code, specially if it’s in a language you’re not familiar with. Optimise for not having to do this hard work again and again. When you figure out something important, write it down - that’s what comments are for. Plus, your team will thank you for it. It’s an easy way to build up the force multiplier.
This is a lot like “saving” information packets. They’re units of work you’ve already done, so you don’t do them again the next time.
The levels of understanding apply to the code your team owns as well, not just code you copy paste, or ‘inherit’ from others. Ideally, you ought to have a level 2 understanding of your team’s code, and a level 3 understanding of code you own. This understanding is building a mental model of how the code works.
I’ve noticed that code reviews help a lot in building this mental model. I do as many reviews as I can: it keeps me in the loop for what my team is working on. There’s also a very interesting feedback mechanism built in to this. I can judge how well I understand the code by my review comments. The less familiar I am with the code base, the more trivial my comments. As my mental model improves, I start seeing the system as a whole and how this new part will interact with everything else. I can spot inconsistencies, and figure out when something wouldn’t work. When I start making comments like these, I know I’m inching towards a level 2-3 understanding.
Since the code is always evolving, this is a constant process: your understanding can go up and down depending on how out of touch you get.
Another reason to get a level 2-3 understanding is to seek inspiration. When you understand the code of a new system, you figure out what decisions they made, and why. This increases your repertoire of things to work with12. This is one big reason why I dived into Unix, and wrote about how it works. This is also a very good reason to understand the tools you use, which is why I learned how Git works
- Don’t write code you don’t understand
- Prioritise learning whenever possible
- Preserve context for future you
- Aim for a level 2-3 understanding of code your team owns
- Code reviews help keep your mental models up to date
Say you build a new system, and testing reveals it to be too slow. You designed it considering how long each component would take, but looks like some of your assumptions failed you. What’s the next thing you do?13
I would measure how long each component takes to identify where I can make the biggest impact. Some things are indeed out of your control, like the request latency. You’re probably not going to launch a satellite to make your code faster. Measuring timing and figuring out where you can improve is critical.
I’ve tried going in guns blazing, optimising whatever looks suboptimal to me, like converting dicts to sets - but the final solution is usually never this obvious. Dicts are probably not the reason your request is taking a second longer.14
Measure instead of assuming.
In last year’s review, I wrote:
If there’s an environment mismatch between test and deploy machines, you’ll be in trouble. And here’s where deployment environments come in. […] The idea is to try and catch errors that unit and system testing wouldn’t. For example, an API mismatch between requesting and responding system.
I didn’t quite appreciate a clean testing environment until it bit me. By clean, I mean it replicates your prod environment completely. It allows you to test exactly what will happen in prod. Of course, you don’t need a physical machine, docker works well here.
I’ve found docker to be one of the biggest productivity tools for testing. It allows me to whip up new environments, test things locally, and reduces friction. This fast feedback loop allows me to develop quicker. It’s frustrating when I have to wait 5-10 minutes to check if I deployed well, trigger a test, check outputs, etc. Docker is all of that, right on my machine.
One final thing I learned was to optimise for zero false positives. It’s easy to write tests that pass without testing what you intended to. For example, iterating through a database cursor and checking the values? Well if the iterator returns nothing, your test has passed without checking anything.
These are false positives, and they’re sinister for giving you a false sense of confidence. How do I fix these? Well, I start by being extra careful during code reviews. The second, sure-fire way of testing this is to make your tests fail. I switch around an equals to a not-equals. If tests still pass, I have a problem. This is something I’ve started doing recently, once I saw my first false positive.
- With optimisation problems, measure instead of assuming.
- Have a clean staging environment. Containerisation is cool.
- Optimise for 0 false positives.
Almost every system design is about trade-offs. The good engineers make these trade-offs explicit.
These trade-offs rise out of the constraints on us and on the product we want.
Speaking of, requirements and constraints are not the same. Constraints are real world limits. For example, we can’t send messages from New York to Australia in 1 millisecond, yet. There are also product constraints, like we don’t want users to see more than 3 pop ups any time.
Requirements, on the other hand, are flexible. They are things we want to happen, but often times we don’t know what we want. Asking myself “what am I really trying to do?” helps uncover the constraints from the requirements. Usually, people jump too quickly into the requirements - which is just one of the many possible paths from the constraints. So, whenever I feel the requirements don’t make sense, I go back the constraints and reason up to reach alternative requirements. I learned to do this from my PM - he’s excellent! - and from @shreyas Twitter threads.15
There’s no holy grail design that will always work
When designing systems, I’ve noticed two broad themes.
The first is that there are a limited number of components we’ve invented: queues, caches, databases, and connectors (or code to make them work together). Every possible design is a permutation of these components - each of which present their own trade-offs. Some are much faster, some are much more maintainable, and some are much more scalable, depending on your use-case.
Given your constraints, one arrangement will be better than the other. Your goal is finding that arrangement. From time to time, there are brilliant hacks you can do to reduce complexity, or make things faster. However, the basic infrastructure doesn’t change.
The second is that everyone has a few happy-themes to go back to, which they’ve seen work well in the past. These are different lenses to look at the system. Design is about figuring out which permutations conform to this lens.
For example, I love reducing state and keeping things simple. Reducing state helps me reason better about systems, and helps me write better tests. Same for keeping things simple. Both lead to fewer bugs. Of course, it can’t be too simple: it can’t violate the constraints.
Like I said last year, it’s worth thinking about speed, as well as local development and testing. If two designs are equivalent, but one is much easier to setup locally and write tests for, I’ll almost always choose the one that’s easier to write tests for.
I like figuring out other people’s lenses, and try to adopt lenses I don’t have. That’s another reason I read tech blogs.
When designing, it’s worth preserving context too, just like when writing code. Often times, I’ve seen myself come back to very old code, forget the assumptions we had then, and think “Wtf, why did we do it like this?!”. Making our constraints and trade-offs explicit helps keep things in perspective, and helps judge whether you made the right decision.
Finally, when designing systems that replace existing systems, I find it very important to talk about the migration paths: How will we manage moving from the old system to new system?
If you’ve ever noticed a system with half of the things running on the new code, and half on the old code, that’s a flawed migration path. Not thinking about the migration path leads to mounting tech debt: you now have to manage and maintain both the new and the old systems. Sometimes, this happens because priorities switch, and you’re left in the middle. In either case, these abnormalities don’t age well.
Good migration paths that might take longer than a sprint take into account the state they leave the system in. If priorities change, will we get stuck in a state where we can’t do anything? Or is our migration incremental, which is robust to changing priorities? Of course, the incremental migration isn’t always the right solution. Sometimes, the clean break is a lot easier. The important part there is communicating well: we can’t deal with changing priorities for this migration.
- Every system design is about trade-offs.
- There’s limited technical components to every design.
- People have definite lenses with which they approach design, just like mental models.
- Preserve context when designing: write down your constraints and trade-offs.
- When replacing old systems, have a clear migration path.
Going with the above theme, gathering requirements is actually gathering constraints. Like we saw above, requirements are sometimes a translation of the constraints into tech requirements, which isn’t always the way to go forward.
In my team culture, there’s enough trust in both the team and the PM that we’re free to challenge each other on this. Asking the question suffices.
A checklist of questions works well here. Here are some questions I ask frequently
This final section dives into a few gotchas, some things I did wrong, and a summary of everything that went right.
Some hacks that have worked very well for me
- Doing as many code reviews as possible. The more you miss, the wronger your mental model for the code becomes, and the more time it takes you to figure out how to design the new thingy.
- Playing the meta: An important second question to ask is “How did you find out X?”, where X is the answer to your first question.
- The first person to review my PRs is… me. Always. I like doing this a lot. It’s something I learned from writing: The first phase is writing out the substance, the second phase is editing for flow. It’s similar in code. Code review is the edit phase, and doing this on my code makes me better at writing code, noticing inconsistencies, and figuring out how others would approach the review.
Just like in a video game, there are a few power ups you can obtain. These help give you powers in the real world. Just like in a video game, you need to go on quests to obtain them.
Here are a few I’ve discovered, and possible quests to get them through.
- Getting into the source code when documentation isn’t enough
- Quest: Reading open source code.
- Quickly build a mental model for the code you’re looking at
- Quest: Reading open source code.
- Embracing fear
- Quest: Build a side project.
- Confidence to express ignorance
- Quest: Overcome the first gotcha with growing.
- Defining my terms. Letting people know exactly what I’m talking about. Like I mentioned in an Idea Muse article a few weeks ago: “Most of the time, most people don’t know what they’re talking about.”
- Quest: ???
Some gotchas with growing
Just as engineers appreciate documentation that includes common gotchas, I think people appreciate reading about common gotchas with growing - mistakes I noticed myself making, and then corrected.
Sometimes, I feel I need to know the answer to everything
As I figure out more things, more people reach out to me with questions. This feels great! However, there are bound to be questions I don’t know the answer to. In this case, chasing the feeling, and feigning intelligence is a trap. A trap that stops me from learning.
Will people stop coming to me if I say I don’t know? Probably not.
Further, they’re going to find out the answer anyway, since they’re competent and smart too. How dumb would it be to not soak in that knowledge too?
Confidence to express ignorance is a super power.
One good way I hone this skill is by saying “Nothing to add” when I have nothing to add, instead of repeating what other people said. It feels powerful to me. I got this one from Charlie Munger.
Sometimes, I lose my cool
There are some times when I enter the panic & frustration mode. I stop reasoning about things rationally and write whatever garbage I can to solve the problem. Add a call, add a bracket, print random stuff, just get things to run some way. This usually starts when it takes me longer than expected to fix something.
Here’s a concrete example. I was working on tests for a new queue system we built, and I wanted to simulate starving and competing queue consumers. So, I decided to spawn several threads in the test, all running the consumer, which would run for 5 seconds, competing for one single message in the queue. I’d expect only one of them to get the message (that’s the queue semantics we implemented). And I’d expect none of them to crash.
For the test, I
joined the threads with a timeout of 5 seconds. These tests didn’t seem to work. I tried simulating things manually, and everything would work as expected. But with the threads, sometimes the tests would fail. I couldn’t figure this out. I tried every random thing I could. In one great moment of desperation, I re-ordered the tests. It felt funny doing this, how could this possibly help? Turns out, the first test passed again, and the other one, which was passing beforehand started failing.
This is when I noticed I had lost my cool, trying random things that didn’t make sense. I calmed down, and started investigating what was happening in the threads. Turns out,
join just waits, and doesn’t kill the process even after timeout.
terminate() is what kills the process. If I had taken the time to read the docs properly, I wouldn’t have felt so frustrated.
The threads weren’t being terminated, and these orphans would mess with the following tests.
Usually, this happens when I’m in a rush, when I haven’t protected my slack, and as a result I’m not prioritising learning over doing. Other times, it’s because it’s a hard piece of code, and no low-hanging fruit solved the problems.
Noticing I’m doing this is usually enough to snap me out of it. I move from ad-hoc bug fixing to strategic bug fixing.
It’s easy to take optimising learning over doing too far. For example, making the wrong design decisions to try out a new technology. I keep myself in check thanks to our team culture. We challenge each other’s decisions, and realise when we have no good reason to explain it, there’s a latent desire - which we then make explicit.
A concrete way I do this: When figuring out pros and cons for a design, I explicitly mention “this would be cool to learn”, so this desire stops hiding behind flimsy reasons.
Make decisions for the right reasons, not to try something new out
Adding a new technology to the team stack is a big decision, one not to be taken lightly.
To extend last year’s list, there are a few questions I don’t yet have the answer to.16 I’d like to think more about these this year.
How do you build a culture which promotes X, Y, Z?
How do you judge culture fit? Hard to do top-down predictions when things are built bottom up.
I suspect being precise with your words is yet another super power. It’s effective communication + communicating the right thing. What’s one quest I can do to hone this?
What are some open problems in software engineering?
and some questions from last year that I’d still like to think about
How to deal with documentation for code and workflows?
Explore De-risking further. What all strategies exist to de-risk projects?
How to decrease rate of system degradation?
My first year was all about absorbing all I could. I didn’t know enough to see the system, I could only see the parts. This year, I took a gods eye view to the system. I figured out places where I was suboptimal and worked on those. I looked at other parts of the system, absorbed their best practices, and become wary of practices that didn’t work for me.
Over time I started looking inward for things I’m doing right, and before I knew it, others started seeing me as a senior software engineer.17
Damn, I love engineering.
If you’re looking for a summary to remember this post by, read software engineering skills.
Thanks to Hung for reading drafts of this.
Also, probably the first thing I learned this year was to use the American spelling of ‘learned’ (not ‘learnt’), since most readers are from the States and some of them freaked out on HN and Reddit when they saw ‘learnt’. Funny. ↩
My interpretation, not representing my employers. Same for the entire article. ↩
Except for a few system inefficiencies. ↩
Affiliate link ↩
Like when you know exactly what you’re doing and you’ve done it a few times before. ↩
Just communicating is probably not enough in certain team cultures. I haven’t been a part of one like this yet, so I don’t know how to help there. ↩
Again, caveats apply. For example, having slack is not an excuse to go fix that damn bug that irritates you - that’s a proper story / KTLO item. There are good and bad ways to use up your slack. I prefer using slack for understanding depth of the current issue / new tech / etc. ↩
One way to hack this would be to start getting fearful of the smallest things, but I’ve never been able to control what I’m afraid of, so I think I’m safe here. ↩
read: I can protect my slack ↩
Tools for thought! ↩
Not rhetorical, I’d love to hear from you! ↩
Not usually, anyway. ↩
You should go follow Shreyas! ↩
No, I don’t have the title yet. ↩
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