Working Up

by Dwayne Phillips

Life is full of bad experiences. There is always something that can be learned in each experience. The bad experience is a form of tuition. The learning is a form of education. Nothing guarantees we get the education with the tuition. The education, however, is there for our choosing.

College is pretty simple: you pay the tuition and get an education. Well, maybe it is simple in in principle, but I don’t know how often it really happens. The favorite saying of one professor I knew was

Education is the one thing people are willing to pay for and not get.

He would tell us that in class and when someone disagreed, the professor would reply, “if I said class dismissed now, half an hour early, how many of you would protest with, ‘No, I paid for a full hour of your time and I want it.'” Case closed.

Life is not as simple as college was (if anyone out there reading this is in college now, sorry to disappoint you). Tuition is not usually paid in money; it is paid in pain, frustration, angst, and several other not-so-much-fun words. Education is what is available for learning. Sometimes it isn’t easy to find. Sometimes the pain of the tuition blocks the learning that is available.

For example, the week before Christmas, we spent the night in a gas station parking lot in a snowstorm. All went well as we reached our destination safely. The delays, worries, and fatigue were the tuition.

Education? Did I learn anything? Yes. Never hit the road in the snow without a full tank of gas. Bring a snow shovel with you. Have your cell phone charger with you (the one that works in the car). Bring food and drink with you. Big education (the things that I didn’t do): leave at a better time to to avoid the snow and make several motel reservations along the route in case you need them.

Another example: saying something in jest that got me in trouble. I won’t cite the specifics of any of the cases, but this has happened to me at least a dozen times. The trouble was the tuition. The education? Watch out when you have the urge to say something that you think is funny. I finally absorbed the education about the 10th or 11th time I paid the tuition.

A computer programming example: making a backup of source code before changing it. The tuition? Finding myself with changed software that didn’t do anything and not being able to return to a working version. Wow, that was painful. The education? Always make a copy of the working software so you can go back to it. The first several times I paid this tuition, I didn’t get the education. The education finally stuck.

Something hurts? Something embarrassing? Feel a burning sensation? That is the tuition. There is an education out there somewhere. Try to see through the pain, find the education, and get it.

by Dwayne Phillips

It is possible to predict the future on projects. It is also possible to change the future on projects. Knowing this second property and how to state it can make a big difference to project stakeholders.

It is possible to predict the future. Given a system-building project that has been planned properly, you can track the progress using earned value, critical path, and good communication. These tools will allow you to predict the future of the project. It is really pretty simple as the rate at which work has been accomplished indicates that rate at which work will be accomplished.

I was once in a situation where a project was a quarter of the way through. The project was 20 percent behind schedule at that point. I calmly predicted that the project would finish at least 20 percent behind schedule – more likely 30 percent behind schedule.

A representative of the users went berserk. “How in the world could this happen? This is terrible. What do you mean it will be late?” Explanations were not in order at the time.

My boss pulled me aside later for a discussion. He understood what I was saying, but the user representative didn’t understand. “Well,” I said, “let’s explain it to him. Let’s teach him about earned value and such.” That idea didn’t go far. Come to think of it, none of the ideas went anywhere on that project in that situation.

What I didn’t know at the time was that while the status tools we were using were good for predicting the future of a project, those predictions were still changeable. Discussions of the future of the projects needed a new phrase that began with the word “unless.” For example,

This project will finish 20 percent behind schedule.

could be worded,

Unless we do something different, this project will finish 20 percent behind schedule.

Aha, there is a possibility of changing the future. I have seen the second statement be true. I worked on projects where everything pointed to being late, being over budget, or both. Things changed; mostly the people changed, and the outcome changed.

Rewind back to that bad day when the user representative went berserk. I wish I would have said,

Unless we do something different, this project will be at least 20 percent behind schedule – more likely 30 percent behind schedule. AND I know what we can do different and how we can do it. Let me show you.

by Dwayne Phillips

Most computer programmers and builders of systems see ourselves as being helpful to the people who use the things we build. Beware, as most users of the things we build see us as interfering in their lives. This situation applies to must people in the world who see themselves as helpful (consider, as an example, “public servants” a.k.a. politicians).

There it was again. Yet another product that promised the ability to create great applications for a computer. You didn’t need any training as a computer programmer. No, this product merely required your great idea plus the ability to draw a few boxes, circles, and lines and then type a few words. Voila – a great application for your home, business, or to make you millions of dollars.

I have seen these for years. Some of them do make “computer programming” easier. Some of them allow people with no training in programming to “write” programs that do run on computers. A few of these products have made millions of dollars, but not for the non-programmers writing programs. No the people making the millions were the ones who created the product with all the promises.

There is something about these products that have great appeal. Well, let me rephrase that, there is something about what these products promise to replace that has great appeal. These products promise to rid the earth of the professional programmer. Ooops, I was once a professional programmer and still fancy myself as someone who can design programs.

Why would anyone want to rid the earth of me and my kind? We are perfectly logical people who only want the best for those who use programs. Pity those poor souls who, unlike me and my kind, cannot write programs themselves. But those poor souls are blessed with me and my kind. Me and my kind will take care of them. Me and my kind will write their programs for them. Me and my kind are benvolent. What could be wrong with the presence of me and my kind?

It seems that the poor souls of the world don’t really care for me and my kind and our benevolence.

There are several problems that follow benevolent people like me and my kind. The receivers of benevolence seem to tire quickly of me and my kind. Our benevolent attitude usually comes across as arrogance instead of benevolence. How could that be? Don’t the poor souls understand the good intentions of me and my kind? The answer in a word is NO.

Wise men and women have long known one little thing about people:

attempts to help are usually interpreted as attempts to interfere.

Stated another way:

benevolence is usually interpreted as arrogance.

But, but, but…

No “buts” about it fellow programmers and designers of software. The poor souls who are not “blessed,” or is it “cursed?”, with the logic and math and science and just plain smarts needed to write computer programs are not happy with us. They have never been happy with us. They have merely tolerated us as a necessary evil. If they can only find that magic program that allows non-programmers to be programmers, they WILL rid the earth of us.

There are several options (we logical types always can list options):

1. Learn a new trade as this one will disappear.
2. Learn how to be less interfering and arrogant.

I don’t know which option will be easier for us.

Oh, and by the way, this helpful-interfering and benevolent-arrogant thing is not confined only to programming computers. It also exists in all fields of endeavor. So, if you find yourself always being benevolently helpful to others, most of the people of the world may see you as an arrogant interferer. Beware as you may have the same fate as me and my kind.

by Dwayne Phillips

Difficult experiences can change your perspective on what is difficult and what is easy. I recently went through such a difficult experience. Now, if I could just recreate that in a safe place so that others can grow as well.

On Friday afternoon December 18th, my wife, youngest son, and I started driving south on Interstate 81 in Virginia. We were heading to Louisiana for Christmas. We were met by a northbound storm that delivered about 20 inches of snow to every place in its path.

We drove in traffic for an hour at 20 miles per hour. Then traffic stopped. We sat still for three hours. The events that followed are exciting, frightening, and boring. And please note that during all this, it is snowing hard, the temperatures are in the mid-20s, and every half hour we have to clean the ice off our windshield wipers.

• Turn around on I-81
• Drive north one mile
• Exit, but stop because three cars are stuck on the exit ramp
• Back down the exit ramp
• Drive another mile north on I-81
• Exit I-81
• Drive past three motels (that may have been full anyways) to try Route 11
• Lose traction on a steep hill on Route 11
• Be pulled up the steep hill on Route 11
• Drive a mile on Route 11
• Pull into a Shell station on Route 11 next to I-81
• Stay at the Shell station for nine hours (running the engine to stay warm and dry)
• Start south on I-81 at 9:30 AM
• Drive 20 miles per hour all alone on I-81 for an hour (it is a bit spooky to be the only vehicle on a major Interstate, what does everyone else know?)
• Take a couple of detours
• Finally reach cleared roads
• The End

We were in a Chevy van. Vans have poor traction in the snow. I had my wife and son sit in the back seat to add some traction to the rear tires. Every snow-covered hill was an adventure – the hardest, most tense driving in my life. What I thought was difficult driving is now simple. When stuck in traffic in Louisiana, and that happens often in the post-Katrina era, I tell people, “at least it isn’t snowing.”

I have heard sayings like, “if it doesn’t kill me it only makes me stronger” and “it’s a confidence-building exercise.” Well, those statements are true, at least for me.

Let’s move on from driving in the snow to professional pursuits. The military has boot camps where recruits are pushed beyond what they think they can do. Parts of war seem easy compared to the drill instructor. We don’t have boot camps in the computing professions. Sure, some parts of college seem tough at the time, but not that tough. If you continue on for a Master’s degree it can be tougher. If you suffer through a PhD program it can be even tougher. I now wonder how much of graduate school was just an exercise to show me how mean, inconsiderate, and obnoxious people can be.

I don’t advise tossing your team of programmers and engineers out in a snow storm in a van with bad traction and telling them to climb a series of dangerous hills. I wish I knew how to recreate that experience and turn what was hard into something much easier. Suggestions are welcome.

by Dwayne Phillips

This past week I spent a day at the funeral of my Uncle Lawrence. We always called him L. O.

Uncle L. O. was buried in the town of Jennings, Louisiana near Interstate 10 in the southwest corner of the state. He was born and raised there and met and married my mother’s sister Irene while they were both teenagers. He lived to be 87. Uncle L. O. and Aunt Irene were married for over 65 years.

Uncle L. O. served his country during WW II. He was in the famed 8th Air Force in England maintaining B-17s for the duration. The local American Legion post sent a squad of men to the funeral. They had a ceremony with the American flag and then a 21-gun salute at the grave site. They were all old men in that squad. All old men. There aren’t many of those men left with us these days.

I didn’t know much of Uncle L. O.’s early years when I was a child. What I did know of him was that he was always a gadget guy.

In the 1960s he was the only person in my large extended family who had a Polaroid camera. Everyone else had the little Kodak Instamatics and such. Uncle L. O. would take a photo, pull this thing out of his Polaroid, and study his watch while he waved the thing in the air to help it dry. In a few minutes he would pull the thing apart and reveal the photo – hardcopy as we call it today. I later learned that Uncle L. O. had owned several generations of Polaroid cameras. Perhaps his daughter will one day display his collection.

And then Uncle L. O. had an electronics workshop. His house had a carport with a workshop attached opposite their house. In it he would have a television or two that he was repairing. He had electronic test equipment and a magnifying glass and a soldering iron. It really wasn’t much of a tech workshop, but it seemed amazing to a kid who for some reason thought all that was more interesting than what his cousins were doing.

Uncle L. O. even built Heathkits. For the young, a Heathkit came in parts – circuit boards, case, resisters, capacitors, inductors, and maybe even an integrated circuit. You had to solder all the components to the circuit board and place the completed boards in the case. Heathkits came for clocks, radios, test equipment, televisions, and later for personal computers. Building a Heathkit was the height of electronics hobbying in the 1970s when I was in high school. I once had a Heathkit catalog and begged my parents to buy me a clock radio kit that I could build. I never got that Heathkit. Instead, I went to college and earned a degree or three in Electrical Engineering.

Yes, we lost a gadget guy this week. A veteran, husband, father, and grandfather. And an uncle who helped inspire one kid from a tiny town in Louisiana to be an electrical engineer.

by Dwayne Phillips

There are words we can say that change situations and sometimes even our lives. “Up until now” are a few words that can erase reputations from our past.

I have learned a few magic words through the years. Say these words aloud, and the situation changes.

A few magic words are “up until now.” Say these words after you say something that you have never been able to do. For example,

I have never been able to be on time

becomes

I have never been able to be on time up until now.

This implies that from now on, I will be able to be on time.

Too often, we allow our past to define our future. Perhaps there were good reasons why you were never able to be on time. For example, I coached kids sports for many years. There were kids who were always late to practice. These kids were 10 or 12 years old. Kids that age don’t drive; their parents bring them to practice. The kids were late because their parents were late. The kids, however, caught the reputation of always being late. Reputations like that tend to stick to us into our 30s, 40s, and beyond. “Up until now” can help erase a reputation.

A few more examples,

I have never been able to finish anything (up until now).

I cannot eat a balanced diet (up until now).

I cannot help being so sarcastic (up until now).

Try adding these three words to the end of your cannots and never-been-able-tos.

by Dwayne Phillips

People don’t predict the future well. A problems is that we attempt to predict the future often. Failing to predict the future can bring labels like “liar” and “moron.” Take care when you are about to predict the future.

People often predict the future. Let’s change that a little: people often attempt to predict the future.

Consider a couple of examples of attempting to predict the future: (1) estimating tasks on projects and (2) making commitments of what you will do.

(1) Many of us are on projects where we are employed. It is inevitable for a project planner to ask, “how long will it take you to do so-and-so on the next project?” This isn’t hard to answer if

• the next project is just like the last project
• the people working on the next project are the same as who worked on the last project
• the task is just like it was on the last project
• and a few other things being just like they were on the last project.

A few small problems:

• the next project is different from the last project
• the people working on the next project will be different from those on the last project
• the task will be different from what it was on the last project
• and a lot of other things will be different from the last project

If the actual work on the next project is within 20% of your estimate, you did well at estimating. Really, you did well. One thing though, no one will say you did well. Instead, they will complain about your lousy estimate.

(2) We often make commitments of things we will do. “This year, I will eat fewer deserts and more vegetables.” Few people expect that prediction to come true. Few people beside myself will be affected when that prediction doesn’t come true.

A commitment that is a bit more serious could be, “This year, I will stop meddling in my engineers’ work and stick to managing.” If this prediction doesn’t come true, several bad things will occur: my engineers will be unhappy with me, I won’t manage well, and all of us will be disgusted.

There are many things that can affect my commitment to my self and the engineers. I could have the best intentions, but still fail to meet my commitment.

We don’t predict the future well; we fail often. A big problem is that failing to predict the future brings bad labels. That is right, not bad results although the results will be bad enough, but we will have bad labels.

Two of the bad labels are (1) liar and (2) moron.

I say something will be so; that something doesn’t become so. A person who tells the truth does what he says he will do. A liar says one thing and does another.

I say something will be so; that something doesn’t become so. I am a moron as someone who knows what he is doing makes predictions that come true.

Take great care when predicting the future. We often fail, and in addition to bad results, we can receive bad labels.

by Dwayne Phillips

Technical debt in a system builds as changes are made to the system. At some point, the expense and risk of the next change is prohibitive.

This is the first post I will make about fill-in-the-blank debt. These all go back to the concept of technical debt in a technical system.

Systems that are used by people change with time. Users are pretty darn smart and come to know a system better than anyone – better than the people who designed and built the system. The users suggest changes, someone makes the changes. Often, the person making the changes is not the person who designed or built the system.

Changes degrade a system. Yes, the changes are made to improve the system in a way that the user wants, but changes put a little stress on a system here and there.

Consider a lawn mower. I like the lawn mower, but I wish the throttle control were a little higher on the handle. I improve the mower by moving the throttle. A little drilling, a little duct tape, a few nuts and bolts, and the improvement is made. Then I improve the mower by changing the angle that the mower throws the cut grass. A little sawing, a little bending, a little more duct tape, and the mower is improved. Go through a half-dozen more changes and I have a lot of nuts, bolts, cuts, bends, and duct tape all over the lawn mower.

The lawn mower has accumulated a lot of technical debt. If I want to make one more improvement to the mower, I’ll have to remove some duct tape, remove some nuts and bolts, make a few more cuts…let’s see, have I forgotten anything? Oh yes, that rivet I put in and…oh well. Maybe it is time to buy a new lawn mower.

Technical debt builds to the point where we can’t make any more changes to the technical system. The next change may cost  a lot to ensure it doesn’t break any previous changes. The next change may break everything – lots of risk. Hence, we have to scrap the system and build a new one.

Technical debt applies to all technical systems from lawn mowers to supercomputers to word processors.

While technical debt applies to technical systems, there are many other types of systems – management, retail, financial, and social to name a few. Future posts will discuss the type of debt that builds in these systems, how to recognize the debt, and when to replace the system with a new one.

by Dwayne Phillips

If you are a leader or manager, the people who work with and for you are watching and listening. Bob Sutton recently had a blog post with the theme being,

leaders get the behavior they model and tolerate

Most leaders and managers understand this little concept. Most manageres even agree with this little concept. Few, however, act like they understand it.

One of the managers I worked with in the last ten years was a great guy. I mean he was a G R E A T guy, the kind of guy you love to work with. He was kind, smart, and funny as well. He had one irksome habit:

he would tell us how he practiced duplicity with his bosses

Aaargh. Sigh, grit my teeth, slump over in my chair and twist.

One thing he would say time and again was, “I know that such-and-such is true, but I can’t tell that to Mr.-or-Ms.-big-boss.”

In other words, “I don’t tell my boss the truth.” Yet, he would expect us to tell him the truth.

People were watching him; people were listening to him, and people were doing what he was doing. Sometimes the world is a messy place. Nice concepts are nice and make sense, but living them in the world in front of people just doesn’t quite happen.

by Dwayne Phillips

I solve problems. Sometimes that is my job, but often it comes away from the job. I say “no” more often than in the past. There are several reasons with a major one being that only when some people experience the pain of a problem do they stop creating problems for themselves.

I am a problem solver. Perhaps this is a gift, but sometimes it is a curse. As the years pass, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances learn that I solve problems. They tend to ask me to help them with their problems.

Some of these problem-solving seekers are people at my job. I am paid to solve problems there. As long as I want to continue being paid, I work with these people and solving their problems.

It seems that more often these days I am sought for problem solving by people outside my paying job. People ask me for a favor, “could you help me with this.” I tend to say, “no” more often the last couple of years. There are various reasons.

1. I learned how to say “no.” I was raised to be helpful and always say “yes.” There are good reasons for being available to assist and serve others. A problem, however, can arise with all this assisting. One day you find yourself addicted to rescuing others. This is known as co-dependent, and that can lead to all sorts of personal difficulties.

2. I am tired. This one is pretty simple. I don’t have the physical and emotional energy I had 20 years ago. I try to be a little more selective now as there is less of me to go around.

3. The other person could use some problem-solving practice. This reason surfaces more often. I won’t be around forever. What will these people do when I am gone? Some people might want to learn how to solve their own problems themselves.

4. The other person might learn to stop creating problems. This is the big one with me. The typical case is when someone comes to me with, “I promised so-and-so that I would do such-and-such, but I finally realized that I can’t do such-and-such. What should I do?”

Maybe its the cynic in me, but my first response is, “don’t promise something unless you can do it.”

“Yes, but,” are the first words in their reply. That ‘but’ word usually precedes something awful. “I have a big problem now and I need your help to get out of it.”

Sometimes I have a solution to their situation. Often I have nothing. Regardless, I tend to tell them, “no thanks.” Only by living through the consequences might they learn not to make commitments that are impossible for them to fulfill. The same is true for most self-created problems.