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I believe that letting CSS load a custom cursor was a mistake. This might seem like a niche complaint, and you know what? It is. But it’s also an important one. One of the best things about CSS is that it lets us make websites and web apps look like anything we can dream up. One of the worst things about CSS is that it lets us make websites and web apps look like anything we can dream up. This is to say that adding a custom cursor might seem like a fun, fancy thing to do at first, but has some serious inclusive design considerations to be aware of. What a custom cursor isn’t First off, I’m not talking about the ability to change a mouse cursor's state. This includes a pointing hand icon for links, resize and text entry indicators, zooming, dragging affordances, etc. A four by two grid of CSS cursors, including OS default, text edit bar, link pointer, move, open drag hand, zoom in, column resize, and cell..cls-1{fill:#4a4a4a}@media...
over a year ago

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More from Eric Bailey

Evaluating overlay-adjacent accessibility products

I get asked about my opinion on overlay-adjacent accessibility products with enough frequency that I thought it could be helpful to write about it. There’s a category of third party products out there that are almost, but not quite an accessibility overlay. By this I mean that they seem a little less predatory, and a little more grounded in terms of the promises they make. Some of these products are widgets. Some are browser extensions. Some are apps. Some are an odd fourth thing. Sometimes it’s a case of a solutioneering disability dongle grift, sometimes its a case of good intentions executed in a less-than-optimal way, and sometimes it’s something legitimately helpful. Oftentimes it’s something that lies in the middle area of all of this. Many of them also have some sort of “AI” integration, which is the unfortunate upsell du jour we have to collectively endure for the time being. The rubric I use to evaluate these products remains very similar to how I scrutinize overlays. Hopefully it’s something that can be helpful for your own efforts. Should the product’s functionality be patented? I’m not very happy with the idea that the mechanism to operate something in an accessible way is inhibited by way of legal restriction. This artificially limits who can use it, which is in opposition to the overall mission of digital accessibility. Ideally the technology is the free bit, and the service that facilitates it is what generates the profit. Do I need to subscribe to use it? A subscription-based model is a great way to run a business, but you don’t need to pay a recurring fee to use an accessible website. The nature of the web’s technology means it can be operated via keyboard, voice control, and other assistive technology if constructed properly. Workarounds and community support also exist for some things where it’s not built well. Here I’d also like you to consider the disability tax, and how that factors into a rental model. It’s not great. Does the browser or operating system already have this functionality? A lot of the time this boils down to an issue of discovery, digital literacy, or identity. As touched on in the previous section, browsers and operating systems offer a lot to help you self-serve. Notable examples are reading mode, on-screen narration, color filters, interface and text zoom, and forced color inversion. Can it be used across multiple experiences, or just one website? Stability and predictability of operation and output are vital for technology like this. It’s why I am so bullish on utilizing existing browser and operating system features. Products built to “enhance” the accessibility of a single website or app can’t contribute towards this. Ironically, their presence may actually contribute friction towards someone’s existing method of using things. A tricky little twist here is products that target a single website are often advertised towards the website owner, and not the people who will be using said website. Can I use the keyboard to operate it? I’ve gotten in the habit of pressing Tab a few times when I first check out the product’s website and see if anything happens. It’s a quick and easy test to see if the company walks the walk in addition to talking the talk. Here, I regrettably encounter missing focus indicators and non-semantic interactive controls more often than not. I might also sometimes run the homepage through axe DevTools, to see if there are other egregious errors. I then try to use the product itself with a keyboard if a demo is offered. I am usually found wanting here. How reliable is the AI? There are two broad considerations here: How reliable is the output? How can bias affect someone’s interpretation of things? While I am a skeptic, I can also acknowledge that there are some good use cases for LLMs and related technology when it comes to disability. I think about reliability in terms of the output in terms of the “assistive” part of assistive technology. By this, I mean it actually helps you do what you need to get done. Here, I’d point to Salma Alam-Naylor’s experience with newer startups in this space versus established, community supported solutions. Then consider LLM-based image description products. Here we want to make sure the content is accurate and relevant. Remember that image descriptions are the mechanism that some people rely on to help them understand the world. If that description is not accurate, it impacts how they form an understanding of their environment. A step past that thought is the biases inherent in, and perpetuated by LLM-based technology. I recall Ben Myers’ thoughts on implicit, hegemonic normalization, as well as the sobering truth that this technology can exert influence over its users worldview at scale. Can the company be trusted with your data? A lot of assistive technology is purposely designed to not announce the fact that it is being used. This is to stave off things like discrimination or ineffective, separate-yet-equal “accessibility only” sites. There’s also the murky world of data brokerage, and if the company is selling off this information or not. AccessiBe comes to mind here, and not in a good way. Also consider if the product has access to everything you visit and interact with, and who has access to that information. As a companion concern, it is also worth considering the product’s data security practices—or lack thereof. Here, I would like to point out that startups tend to deprioritize this boring kind of infrastructure work in favor of feature creation. Not having any personal information present in a system is the best way to guard against its theft. Also know that there is no way to undo a data breach once it occurs. Leaked information stays leaked. Will the company last? Speaking of startups, know that more fail than succeed. Are you prepared for an outcome where the product you rely on is is no longer updated or supported because the company that made it went out of business? It could also be a case where the company still exists, but ceases to support the product you use. Here, know that sometimes these companies will actively squash attempts for community-based resurrection and support of the service because it represents potential liability. This concern is another reason why I’m bullish on operating system and browser functionality. They have a lot more resiliency and focus on the long view in this particular area. But also I’m not the arbiter of who can use what. In the spirit of “the best camera is the one you have on you:” if something works for your specific access needs, by all means use it.

a week ago 11 votes
Stanislav Petrov

A lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defense Forces prevented the end of human civilization on September 26th, 1983. His name was Stanislav Petrov. Protocol dictated that the Soviet Union would retaliate against any nuclear strikes sent by the United States. This was a policy of mutually assured destruction, a doctrine that compels a horrifying logical conclusion. The second and third stage effects of this type of exchange would be even more catastrophic. Allies for each side would likely be pulled into the conflict. The resulting nuclear winter was projected to lead to 2 billion deaths due to starvation. This is to say nothing about those who would have been unfortunate enough to have survived. Petrov’s job was to monitor Oko, the computerized warning systems built to centralize Soviet satellite communications. Around midnight, he received a report that one of the satellites had detected the infrared signature of a single launch of a United States ICBM. While Petrov was deciding what to do about this report, the system detected four more incoming missile launches. He had minutes to make a choice about what to do. It is impossible to imagine the amount of pressure placed on him at this moment. Source: Stanislav Petrov, Soviet officer credited with averting nuclear war, dies at 77 by Schwartzreport. Petrov lived in a world of deterministic systems. The technologies that powered these warning systems have outputs that are guaranteed, provided the proper inputs are provided. However, deterministic does not mean infallible. The only reason you are alive and reading this is because Petrov understood that the systems he observed were capable of error. He was suspicious of what he was seeing reported, and chose not to escalate a retaliatory strike. There were two factors guiding his decision: A surprise attack would most likely have used hundreds of missiles, and not just five. The allegedly foolproof Oko system was new and prone to errors. An error in a deterministic system can still lead to expected outputs being generated. For the Oko system, infrared reflections of the sun shining off of the tops of clouds created a false positive that was interpreted as detection of a nuclear launch event. Source: US-K History by Kosmonavtika. The concept of erroneous truth is a deep thing to internalize, as computerized systems are presented as omniscient, indefective, and absolute. Petrov’s rewards for this action were reprimands, reassignment, and denial of promotion. This was likely for embarrassing his superiors by the politically inconvenient shedding of light on issues with the Oko system. A coerced early retirement caused a nervous breakdown, likely him having to grapple with the weight of his decision. It was only in the 1990s—after the fall of the Soviet Union—that his actions were discovered internationally and celebrated. Stanislav Petrov was given the recognition that he deserved, including being honored by the United Nations, awarded the Dresden Peace Prize, featured in a documentary, and being able to visit a Minuteman Missile silo in the United States. On January 31st, 2025, OpenAI struck a deal with the United States government to use its AI product for nuclear weapon security. It is unclear how this technology will be used, where, and to what extent. It is also unclear how OpenAI’s systems function, as they are black box technologies. What is known is that LLM-generated responses—the product OpenAI sells—are non-deterministic. Non-deterministic systems don’t have guaranteed outputs from their inputs. In addition, LLM-based technology hallucinates—it invents content with no self-knowledge that it is a falsehood. Non-deterministic systems that are computerized also have the perception as being authoritative, the same as their deterministic peers. It is not a question of how the output is generated, it is one of the output being perceived to come from a machine. These are terrifying things to know. Consider not only the systems this technology is being applied to, but also the thoughtless speed of their integration. Then consider how we’ve historically been conditioned and rewarded to interpret the output of these systems, and then how we perceive and treat skeptics. We don’t live in a purely deterministic world of technology anymore. Stanislav Petrov died on September 18th, 2017, before this change occurred. I would be incredibly curious to know his thoughts about our current reality, as well as the increasing abdication of human monitoring of automated systems in favor of notably biased, supposed “AI solutions.” In acknowledging Petrov’s skepticism in a time of mania and political instability, we acknowledge a quote from former U.S. Secretary of Defense William J. Perry’s memoir about the incident: [Oko’s false positives] illustrates the immense danger of placing our fate in the hands of automated systems that are susceptible to failure and human beings who are fallible.

2 weeks ago 17 votes
GitHub’s updated Commits page and the interactive list component

GitHub has updated the page template used to list Commits on a repository. Central to this experience is an interactive list component that I was responsible for architecting. This work was done alongside input from James Scholes, whose guidance was instrumental to the effort’s success. An interactive list is a construct that’s more commonplace on desktop applications than the web. That does not mean its approach is forbidden from being used for web experiences, however. What concerns does an interactive list address? The main concern an interactive list addresses is when each discrete item in a series contains multiple interactive child elements. Navigating through every child interactive element placed with each parent list item can be a tedious enough chore that it makes the effort a non-starter. For example, if the list has ten items and each item has seven interactive child elements, that means it takes up to seventy Tab keypresses someone needs to perform to get what they need. That’s an exhausting experience to endure. It could also be agonizing. Think motor control disabilities, where individual movements in aggregate can exceed someone’s pain tolerance threshold. Making each list item’s container itself focusable and traversable addresses this problem, as it lowers the number of keypresses someone needs to use. It also supports allowing you to quickly jump to the start or end of the list for even more navigation options. On GitHub, navigating an interactive list via your keyboard can be accomplished by pressing: Tab: Places focus on the interactive list item that last received focus. Defaults to the first item in the list if the list was previously not interacted with. Down: Moves focus to the next list item, if present. Up: Moves focus to the previous list item, if present. End: Moves focus to the last list item in the interactive list. Home: Moves focus to the first list item in the interactive list. There’s a trick here: We want to make sure each list item’s announcement contains enough information that someone can make an informed choice when navigating via a screen reader. We also do not want to make the announcement so verbose that it slows down the navigation process. For example, we only include the commit title when navigating via list item on the Commits page. For an Issue, we use: The Issue title, Its status, and Its author (there is currently a bug here, we’re working on fixing it). There is an intentionality behind the order of content in this announcement, as we want to include the most pertinent information first. This, in turn, helps people navigating by list item announcement make more informed choices faster. This lets us know: What the problem is, Has it been dealt with yet, and Who found the problem? We also use the term “More information available below” to signal that someone can explore the list item’s child content in more detail. This is accomplished via pressing: Tab: Navigates forwards through each child interactive element in sequence. Shift + Tab: Navigates backwards through each child interactive element in sequence. Esc: Moves focus out of the child interactive elements and places it back on the parent list item itself. Examples of child content that someone could encounter are an Issues’ author, its labels, linked Pull Requests, comment tally, and assignees. Problems The use of the phrase “More information available below” does not sit well with me, despite being the person who oversaw its inclusion. There’s a couple of reasons here: First, I’m normally loathe to hardcode interaction hints for screen readers. The interactive list component is a bit of an exception to that rule. It is an uncommon interaction pattern on the web, so the hint needs to be included until efforts to formalize it both: Manifest, and Get widespread support from assistive technology vendors. Without these two things, I fear that blind and low vision individuals will not be able to fully utilize the experience the same way their peers can. Second, the hint phrasing itself isn’t that great. The location-based term “below” is shorthand to try and communicate that there’s subsequent child content that is related to the list item’s main content. While “subsequent child content that is related to the list item’s main content” is more descriptive, it’s an earful. I am very much open to suggestions for a replacement phrase. And this potential for change sets up other things that weigh on me. Bigger problems Using this interactive list component on the Commits page template means there are now two main areas on GitHub where the component is present. The second being the lists of repository Issues for logged-in accounts. Large, structural changes to a design’s underlying semantics disrupts the mental model and muscle memory of how many people who use screen readers operate an experience. It’s an act that I’m always nervous about undertaking. The calculated bet here is that the prominence of the components on these high-traffic areas means that understanding how to operate them becomes easier over time. I’ve also hedged that bet by including alternate ways of navigating the interactive list, including baking headings into each Commit and Issue title. HeadingsMap. I do think that this update to each page’s semantic structure is net better than what came before it. However, it is still going to manifest as a large and sudden change for people who use screen readers. And for the record, I view changing the “More information available below” phrasing as another large and disruptive change. Subsequent large and sudden changes is what I want to avoid at all costs. That said, we’re running out the clock on a situation where an interactive list will someday contain non-interactive content. The component’s current approach does not have a great way for people to be aware of, and subsequently read that kind of content. That’s not great. Because of this inevitability, I would like to replace the list’s interaction approach with the one we’re using for nested/sub-Issues. There are a few reasons for this, but the main ones are: Improving consistency and uniformity of interaction across all of GitHub for this kind of clustering of content. Leaning on more well-known interaction techniques for secondary content within an item by using dialogs instead of Tab keypresses. Providing a mechanism that can more easily handle exploring non-interactive content being placed within a list item. Making these changes would mean a drastic update on top of another drastic update. While I do think it would be a better overall experience, rolling it out would require a lot of careful effort and planning. Even bigger problems In many ways, GitHub is a battleship. It is slow to turn just by virtue of the sheer size and scale of concerns it needs to cover. Enacting my goal of replacing and unifying these kinds of interactions would take time: It would mean petitioning for heavy investment in something that may be perceived as an already “solved” problem. It also would require collaboration across multiple siloed product areas, each with their own pre-existing and planned objectives and priorities. I have the gift of hindsight in writing this. The interactive list was originally intended to address just the list of repository Issues. Its usage has since has grown to cover more use cases—not all of them actually applicable. This is one of the existential problems of a design system. You can write all the documentation you want, but people are ultimately going to use what they’re going to use regardless of if its appropriate or not. Replacing or excising misapplied components is another effort that runs counter to organization priorities. That truth lives hand-in-hand with the need to maintain the overall state of usability for everyone who uses the service. You’re gonna carry that weight Making dramatic changes to core parts of GitHub’s assistive technology user experience, followed by more dramatic changes, then potentially followed by even more dramatic changes is an outcome we’re potentially facing. It is the nature of software—especially websites and web apps—to change. That said, I worry about the overall churn this all could represent. I feel the weight of that responsibility as the person who set this course. I also feel the consequent pressure it exerts. I’ll continue to write about and plead the case internally. However, I worry that I’ve blown my one chance to get things right. I know my colleagues who produce visual designs also may feel this way, but I also think it’s a more acute problem for digital accessibility. I also don’t think that this sort of situation is one that’s talked about that often in accessibility spaces, hence me writing about it. This is to say nothing about quantifying it, either. Centering I’m pretty proud of what we accomplished, but those feelings are moot if all this effort does not serve the people it was intended to. It’s also not about me. Our efforts to be more inclusive may ironically work against us here. How much churn is the point where it’s too much and people are pushed away? To that point, feedback helps. Constructive reports on access barriers and friction are something that can bypass the internal perception of the things I’ve outlined as being seen as non-problems. I am twice heartened when I see reports. First, it is a signal that means someone is still present and cares. Second, there has been renewed internal interest in investing in acting on these user-reported accessibility problems. The work never stops This post is about interactive lists on GitHub, and how to use them. It’s also about: The responsibilities, pressures, and politics of creating complex components like the interactive list and ensuring they are accessible, How these types of components affect the larger, holistic experience of GitHub as a whole, The need to ensure these components actually work for the people they serve, and The value of providing feedback if they don’t. These are powerful things to internalize if you also do this sort of work, but also valuable to keep in mind if you don’t. The have served me well in my journey at GitHub, and I hope they help to serve you too.

2 months ago 18 votes
Don’t forget to localize your icons

Former United States president and war criminal George W. Bush gave a speech in Australia, directing a v-for-victory hand gesture at the assembled crowd. It wasn’t received the way he intended. What he failed to realize is that this gesture means a lot of different things to a lot different people. In Australia, the v-for-victory gesture means the same as giving someone the middle finger in the United States. This is all to say that localization is difficult. Localizing your app, web app, or website is more than just running all your text through Google Translate and hoping for the best. Creating effective, trustworthy communication with language communities means doing the work to make sure your content meets them where they are. A big part of this is learning about, and incorporating cultural norms into your efforts. Doing so will help you avoid committing any number of unintentional faux pas. In this best case scenario these goofs will create an awkward and potentially funny outcome: In the worst case, it will eradicate any sense of trust you’re attempting to build. Trust There is no magic number for how many mistranslated pieces of content flips the switch from tolerant bemusement to mistrust and anger. Each person running into these mistakes has a different tolerance threshold. Additionally, that threshold is also variable depending on factors such as level of stress, seriousness of the task at hand, prior interactions, etc. If you’re operating a business, loss of trust may mean less sales. Loss of trust may have far more serious ramifications if it’s a government service. Let’s also not forget that it is language communities and not individuals. Word-of-mouth does a lot of heavy lifting here, especially for underserved and historically discriminated-against populations. To that point, reputational harm is also a thing you need to contend with. Because of this, we need to remember all the things that are frequently left out of translation and localization efforts. For this post, I’d like to focus on icons. Iconic We tend to think of icons as immutable glyphs whose metaphors convey platonic functionality and purpose. A little box with an abstract mountain and a rising sun? I bet that lets you insert a picture. And how about a right-facing triangle? Five dollars says it plays something. However, these metaphors start to fall apart when not handled with care and discretion. If your imagery is too abstract it might not read the way it is intended to, especially for more obscure or niche functionality. Transit. Similarly, objects or concepts that don’t exist in the demographics you are serving won’t directly translate well. It will take work, but the results can be amazing. An exellent example of accommodation is Firefox OS’ localization efforts with the Fula people. Culture impacts how icons are interpreted, understood, and used, just like all other content. Here, I’d specifically like to call attention to three commonly-found icons whose meanings can be vasty different depending on the person using them. I would also like to highlight something that all three of these icons have in common: they use hand gestures to represent functionality. This makes a lot of sense! Us humans have been using our hands to communicate things for about as long as humanity itself has existed. It’s natural to take this communication and apply it to a digital medium. That said, we also need to acknowledge that due to their widespread use that these gestures—and therefore the icons that use them—can be interpreted differently by cultures and language communities that are different than the one who added the icons to the experience. The three icons themselves are thumb’s up, thumb’s down, and the okay hand symbol. Let’s unpack them: Thumb’s up What it’s intended to be used for This icon usually means expressing favor for something. It is typically also a tally, used as a signal for how popular the content is with an audience. Facebook did a lot of heavy lifting here with its Like button. In the same breath I’d also like to say that Facebook is a great example of how ignoring culture when serving a global audience can lead to disastrous outcomes. Who could be insulted by it In addition to expressing favor or approval, a thumb’s up can also be insulting in cultures originating from the following regions (not a comprehensive list): Bangladesh, Some parts of West Africa, Iran, Iraq, Afganistan, Some parts of Russia, Some parts of Latin America, and Australia, if you also waggle it up and down. It was also not a great gesture to be on the receiving end of in Rome, specifically if you were a downed gladiator at the mercy of the crowd. What you could use instead If it’s a binary “I like this/I don’t like this” choice, consider symbols like stars and hearts. Sparkles are out, because AI has ruined them. I’m also quite partial to just naming the action—after all the best icon is a text label. Thumb’s down What it’s intended to be used for This icon is commonly paired with a thumb’s up as part of a tally-based rating system. People can express their dislike of the content, which in turn can signal if the content failed to find a welcome reception. Who could be insulted by it A thumb’s down has a near-universal negative connotation, even in cultures where its use is intentional. It is also straight-up insulting in Japan. It may also have gang-related connotations. I’m hesitant to comment on that given how prevalent misinformation is about that sort of thing, but it’s also a good reminder of how symbolism can be adapted in ways we may not initially consider outside of “traditional” channels. Like the thumb’s up gesture, this is also not a comprehensive list. I’m a designer, not an ethnographic researcher. What you could use instead Consider removing outrage-based metrics. They’re easy to abuse and subvert, exploitative, and not psychologically healthy. If you well and truly need that quant data consider going with a rating scale instead of a combination of thumb’s up and thumb’s down icons. You might also want to consider ditching rating all together if you want people to actually read your content, or if you want to encourage more diversity of expression. Okay What it’s intended to be used for This symbol is usually used to represent acceptance or approval. Who could be insulted by it People from Greece may take offense to an okay hand symbol. The gesture might have also offended people in France and Spain when performed by hand, but that may have passed. Who could be threatened by it The okay hand sign has also been subverted by 4chan and co-opted by the White supremacy movement. An okay hand sign’s presence could be read as a threat by a population who is targeted by White supremacist hate. Here, it could be someone using it without knowing. It could also be a dogwhistle put in place by either a bad actor within an organization, or the entire organization itself. Thanks to the problem of other minds, the person on the receiving end cannot be sure about the underlying intent. Because of this, the safest option is to just up and leave. What you could use instead Terms like “I understand”, “I accept”, and “acknowledged” all work well here. I’d also be wary of using checkmarks, in that their meaning also isn’t a guarantee. So, what symbols can I use? There is no one true answer here, only degrees of certainty. Knowing what ideas, terms, and images are understood, accepted by, or offend a culture requires doing research. There is also the fact that the interpretation of these symbols can change over time. For this fact, I’d like to point out that pejorative imagery can sometimes become accepted due to constant, unending mass exposure. We won’t go back to using a Swastika to indicate good luck any time soon. However, the homogenization effect of the web’s implicit Western bias means that things like thumb’s up icons everywhere is just something people begrudgingly get used to. This doesn’t mean that we have to capitulate, however! Adapting your iconography to meet a language culture where it’s at can go a long way to demonstrating deep care. Just be sure that the rest of your localization efforts match the care you put into your icons and images. Otherwise it will leave the experience feeling off. An example of this is using imagery that feels natural in the language culture you’re serving, but having awkward and stilted text content. This disharmonious mismatch in tone will be noticed and felt, even if it isn’t concretely tied to any one thing. Different things mean different things in different ways Effective, clear communication that is interpreted as intended is a complicated thing to do. This gets even more intricate when factors like language, culture, and community enter the mix. Taking the time to do research, and also perform outreach to the communities you wish to communicate with can take a lot of work. But doing so will lead to better experiences, and therefore outcomes for all involved. Take stock of the images and icons you use as you undertake, or revisit your localization efforts. There may be more to it than you initially thought.

3 months ago 30 votes

More in programming

Diagnosis in engineering strategy.

Once you’ve written your strategy’s exploration, the next step is working on its diagnosis. Diagnosis is understanding the constraints and challenges your strategy needs to address. In particular, it’s about doing that understanding while slowing yourself down from deciding how to solve the problem at hand before you know the problem’s nuances and constraints. If you ever find yourself wanting to skip the diagnosis phase–let’s get to the solution already!–then maybe it’s worth acknowledging that every strategy that I’ve seen fail, did so due to a lazy or inaccurate diagnosis. It’s very challenging to fail with a proper diagnosis, and almost impossible to succeed without one. The topics this chapter will cover are: Why diagnosis is the foundation of effective strategy, on which effective policy depends. Conversely, how skipping the diagnosis phase consistently ruins strategies A step-by-step approach to diagnosing your strategy’s circumstances How to incorporate data into your diagnosis effectively, and where to focus on adding data Dealing with controversial elements of your diagnosis, such as pointing out that your own executive is one of the challenges to solve Why it’s more effective to view difficulties as part of the problem to be solved, rather than a blocking issue that prevents making forward progress The near impossibility of an effective diagnosis if you don’t bring humility and self-awareness to the process Into the details we go! This is an exploratory, draft chapter for a book on engineering strategy that I’m brainstorming in #eng-strategy-book. As such, some of the links go to other draft chapters, both published drafts and very early, unpublished drafts. Diagnosis is strategy’s foundation One of the challenges in evaluating strategy is that, after the fact, many effective strategies are so obvious that they’re pretty boring. Similarly, most ineffective strategies are so clearly flawed that their authors look lazy. That’s because, as a strategy is operated, the reality around it becomes clear. When you’re writing your strategy, you don’t know if you can convince your colleagues to adopt a new approach to specifying APIs, but a year later you know very definitively whether it’s possible. Building your strategy’s diagnosis is your attempt to correctly recognize the context that the strategy needs to solve before deciding on the policies to address that context. Done well, the subsequent steps of writing strategy often feel like an afterthought, which is why I think of diagnosis as strategy’s foundation. Where exploration was an evaluation-free activity, diagnosis is all about evaluation. How do teams feel today? Why did that project fail? Why did the last strategy go poorly? What will be the distractions to overcome to make this new strategy successful? That said, not all evaluation is equal. If you state your judgment directly, it’s easy to dispute. An effective diagnosis is hard to argue against, because it’s a web of interconnected observations, facts, and data. Even for folks who dislike your conclusions, the weight of evidence should be hard to shift. Strategy testing, explored in the Refinement section, takes advantage of the reality that it’s easier to diagnose by doing than by speculating. It proposes a recursive diagnosis process until you have real-world evidence that the strategy is working. How to develop your diagnosis Your strategy is almost certain to fail unless you start from an effective diagnosis, but how to build a diagnosis is often left unspecified. That’s because, for most folks, building the diagnosis is indeed a dark art: unspecified, undiscussion, and uncontrollable. I’ve been guilty of this as well, with The Engineering Executive’s Primer’s chapter on strategy staying silent on the details of how to diagnose for your strategy. So, yes, there is some truth to the idea that forming your diagnosis is an emergent, organic process rather than a structured, mechanical one. However, over time I’ve come to adopt a fairly structured approach: Braindump, starting from a blank sheet of paper, write down your best understanding of the circumstances that inform your current strategy. Then set that piece of paper aside for the moment. Summarize exploration on a new piece of paper, review the contents of your exploration. Pull in every piece of diagnosis from similar situations that resonates with you. This is true for both internal and external works! For each diagnosis, tag whether it fits perfectly, or needs to be adjusted for your current circumstances. Then, once again, set the piece of paper aside. Mine for distinct perspectives on yet another blank page, talking to different stakeholders and colleagues who you know are likely to disagree with your early thinking. Your goal is not to agree with this feedback. Instead, it’s to understand their view. The Crux by Richard Rumelt anchors diagnosis in this approach, emphasizing the importance of “testing, adjusting, and changing the frame, or point of view.” Synthesize views into one internally consistent perspective. Sometimes the different perspectives you’ve gathered don’t mesh well. They might well explicitly differ in what they believe the underlying problem is, as is typical in tension between platform and product engineering teams. The goal is to competently represent each of these perspectives in the diagnosis, even the ones you disagree with, so that later on you can evaluate your proposed approach against each of them. When synthesizing feedback goes poorly, it tends to fail in one of two ways. First, the author’s opinion shines through so strongly that it renders the author suspect. Your goal is never to agree with every team’s perspective, just as your diagnosis should typically avoid crowning any perspective as correct: a reader should generally be appraised of the details and unaware of the author. The second common issue is when a group tries to jointly own the synthesis, but create a fractured perspective rather than a unified one. I generally find that having one author who is accountable for representing all views works best to address both of these issues. Test drafts across perspectives. Once you’ve written your initial diagnosis, you want to sit down with the people who you expect to disagree most fervently. Iterate with them until they agree that you’ve accurately captured their perspective. It might be that they disagree with some other view points, but they should be able to agree that others hold those views. They might argue that the data you’ve included doesn’t capture their full reality, in which case you can caveat the data by saying that their team disagrees that it’s a comprehensive lens. Don’t worry about getting the details perfectly right in your initial diagnosis. You’re trying to get the right crumbs to feed into the next phase, strategy refinement. Allowing yourself to be directionally correct, rather than perfectly correct, makes it possible to cover a broad territory quickly. Getting caught up in perfecting details is an easy way to anchor yourself into one perspective prematurely. At this point, I hope you’re starting to predict how I’ll conclude any recipe for strategy creation: if these steps feel overly mechanical to you, adjust them to something that feels more natural and authentic. There’s no perfect way to understand complex problems. That said, if you feel uncertain, or are skeptical of your own track record, I do encourage you to start with the above approach as a launching point. Incorporating data into your diagnosis The strategy for Navigating Private Equity ownership’s diagnosis includes a number of details to help readers understand the status quo. For example the section on headcount growth explains headcount growth, how it compares to the prior year, and providing a mental model for readers to translate engineering headcount into engineering headcount costs: Our Engineering headcount costs have grown by 15% YoY this year, and 18% YoY the prior year. Headcount grew 7% and 9% respectively, with the difference between headcount and headcount costs explained by salary band adjustments (4%), a focus on hiring senior roles (3%), and increased hiring in higher cost geographic regions (1%). If everyone evaluating a strategy shares the same foundational data, then evaluating the strategy becomes vastly simpler. Data is also your mechanism for supporting or critiquing the various views that you’ve gathered when drafting your diagnosis; to an impartial reader, data will speak louder than passion. If you’re confident that a perspective is true, then include a data narrative that supports it. If you believe another perspective is overstated, then include data that the reader will require to come to the same conclusion. Do your best to include data analysis with a link out to the full data, rather than requiring readers to interpret the data themselves while they are reading. As your strategy document travels further, there will be inevitable requests for different cuts of data to help readers understand your thinking, and this is somewhat preventable by linking to your original sources. If much of the data you want doesn’t exist today, that’s a fairly common scenario for strategy work: if the data to make the decision easy already existed, you probably would have already made a decision rather than needing to run a structured thinking process. The next chapter on refining strategy covers a number of tools that are useful for building confidence in low-data environments. Whisper the controversial parts At one time, the company I worked at rolled out a bar raiser program styled after Amazon’s, where there was an interviewer from outside the team that had to approve every hire. I spent some time arguing against adding this additional step as I didn’t understand what we were solving for, and I was surprised at how disinterested management was about knowing if the new process actually improved outcomes. What I didn’t realize until much later was that most of the senior leadership distrusted one of their peers, and had rolled out the bar raiser program solely to create a mechanism to control that manager’s hiring bar when the CTO was disinterested holding that leader accountable. (I also learned that these leaders didn’t care much about implementing this policy, resulting in bar raiser rejections being frequently ignored, but that’s a discussion for the Operations for strategy chapter.) This is a good example of a strategy that does make sense with the full diagnosis, but makes little sense without it, and where stating part of the diagnosis out loud is nearly impossible. Even senior leaders are not generally allowed to write a document that says, “The Director of Product Engineering is a bad hiring manager.” When you’re writing a strategy, you’ll often find yourself trying to choose between two awkward options: Say something awkward or uncomfortable about your company or someone working within it Omit a critical piece of your diagnosis that’s necessary to understand the wider thinking Whenever you encounter this sort of debate, my advice is to find a way to include the diagnosis, but to reframe it into a palatable statement that avoids casting blame too narrowly. I think it’s helpful to discuss a few concrete examples of this, starting with the strategy for navigating private equity, whose diagnosis includes: Based on general practice, it seems likely that our new Private Equity ownership will expect us to reduce R&D headcount costs through a reduction. However, we don’t have any concrete details to make a structured decision on this, and our approach would vary significantly depending on the size of the reduction. There are many things the authors of this strategy likely feel about their state of reality. First, they are probably upset about the fact that their new private equity ownership is likely to eliminate colleagues. Second, they are likely upset that there is no clear plan around what they need to do, so they are stuck preparing for a wide range of potential outcomes. However they feel, they don’t say any of that, they stick to precise, factual statements. For a second example, we can look to the Uber service migration strategy: Within infrastructure engineering, there is a team of four engineers responsible for service provisioning today. While our organization is growing at a similar rate as product engineering, none of that additional headcount is being allocated directly to the team working on service provisioning. We do not anticipate this changing. The team didn’t agree that their headcount should not be growing, but it was the reality they were operating in. They acknowledged their reality as a factual statement, without any additional commentary about that statement. In both of these examples, they found a professional, non-judgmental way to acknowledge the circumstances they were solving. The authors would have preferred that the leaders behind those decisions take explicit accountability for them, but it would have undermined the strategy work had they attempted to do it within their strategy writeup. Excluding critical parts of your diagnosis makes your strategies particularly hard to evaluate, copy or recreate. Find a way to say things politely to make the strategy effective. As always, strategies are much more about realities than ideals. Reframe blockers as part of diagnosis When I work on strategy with early-career leaders, an idea that comes up a lot is that an identified problem means that strategy is not possible. For example, they might argue that doing strategy work is impossible at their current company because the executive team changes their mind too often. That core insight is almost certainly true, but it’s much more powerful to reframe that as a diagnosis: if we don’t find a way to show concrete progress quickly, and use that to excite the executive team, our strategy is likely to fail. This transforms the thing preventing your strategy into a condition your strategy needs to address. Whenever you run into a reason why your strategy seems unlikely to work, or why strategy overall seems difficult, you’ve found an important piece of your diagnosis to include. There are never reasons why strategy simply cannot succeed, only diagnoses you’ve failed to recognize. For example, we knew in our work on Uber’s service provisioning strategy that we weren’t getting more headcount for the team, the product engineering team was going to continue growing rapidly, and that engineering leadership was unwilling to constrain how product engineering worked. Rather than preventing us from implementing a strategy, those components clarified what sort of approach could actually succeed. The role of self-awareness Every problem of today is partially rooted in the decisions of yesterday. If you’ve been with your organization for any duration at all, this means that you are directly or indirectly responsible for a portion of the problems that your diagnosis ought to recognize. This means that recognizing the impact of your prior actions in your diagnosis is a powerful demonstration of self-awareness. It also suggests that your next strategy’s success is rooted in your self-awareness about your prior choices. Don’t be afraid to recognize the failures in your past work. While changing your mind without new data is a sign of chaotic leadership, changing your mind with new data is a sign of thoughtful leadership. Summary Because diagnosis is the foundation of effective strategy, I’ve always found it the most intimidating phase of strategy work. While I think that’s a somewhat unavoidable reality, my hope is that this chapter has somewhat prepared you for that challenge. The four most important things to remember are simply: form your diagnosis before deciding how to solve it, try especially hard to capture perspectives you initially disagree with, supplement intuition with data where you can, and accept that sometimes you’re missing the data you need to fully understand. The last piece in particular, is why many good strategies never get shared, and the topic we’ll address in the next chapter on strategy refinement.

11 hours ago 3 votes
My friend, JT

I’ve had a cat for almost a third of my life.

2 hours ago 3 votes
[Course Launch] Hands-on Introduction to X86 Assembly

A Live, Interactive Course for Systems Engineers

5 hours ago 2 votes
It’s cool to care

I’m sitting in a small coffee shop in Brooklyn. I have a warm drink, and it’s just started to snow outside. I’m visiting New York to see Operation Mincemeat on Broadway – I was at the dress rehearsal yesterday, and I’ll be at the opening preview tonight. I’ve seen this show more times than I care to count, and I hope US theater-goers love it as much as Brits. The people who make the show will tell you that it’s about a bunch of misfits who thought they could do something ridiculous, who had the audacity to believe in something unlikely. That’s certainly one way to see it. The musical tells the true story of a group of British spies who tried to fool Hitler with a dead body, fake papers, and an outrageous plan that could easily have failed. Decades later, the show’s creators would mirror that same spirit of unlikely ambition. Four friends, armed with their creativity, determination, and a wardrobe full of hats, created a new musical in a small London theatre. And after a series of transfers, they’re about to open the show under the bright lights of Broadway. But when I watch the show, I see a story about friendship. It’s about how we need our friends to help us, to inspire us, to push us to be the best versions of ourselves. I see the swaggering leader who needs a team to help him truly achieve. The nervous scientist who stands up for himself with the support of his friends. The enthusiastic secretary who learns wisdom and resilience from her elder. And so, I suppose, it’s fitting that I’m not in New York on my own. I’m here with friends – dozens of wonderful people who I met through this ridiculous show. At first, I was just an audience member. I sat in my seat, I watched the show, and I laughed and cried with equal measure. After the show, I waited at stage door to thank the cast. Then I came to see the show a second time. And a third. And a fourth. After a few trips, I started to see familiar faces waiting with me at stage door. So before the cast came out, we started chatting. Those conversations became a Twitter community, then a Discord, then a WhatsApp. We swapped fan art, merch, and stories of our favourite moments. We went to other shows together, and we hung out outside the theatre. I spent New Year’s Eve with a few of these friends, sitting on somebody’s floor and laughing about a bowl of limes like it was the funniest thing in the world. And now we’re together in New York. Meeting this kind, funny, and creative group of people might seem as unlikely as the premise of Mincemeat itself. But I believed it was possible, and here we are. I feel so lucky to have met these people, to take this ridiculous trip, to share these precious days with them. I know what a privilege this is – the time, the money, the ability to say let’s do this and make it happen. How many people can gather a dozen friends for even a single evening, let alone a trip halfway round the world? You might think it’s silly to travel this far for a theatre show, especially one we’ve seen plenty of times in London. Some people would never see the same show twice, and most of us are comfortably into double or triple-figures. Whenever somebody asks why, I don’t have a good answer. Because it’s fun? Because it’s moving? Because I enjoy it? I feel the need to justify it, as if there’s some logical reason that will make all of this okay. But maybe I don’t have to. Maybe joy doesn’t need justification. A theatre show doesn’t happen without people who care. Neither does a friendship. So much of our culture tells us that it’s not cool to care. It’s better to be detached, dismissive, disinterested. Enthusiasm is cringe. Sincerity is weakness. I’ve certainly felt that pressure – the urge to play it cool, to pretend I’m above it all. To act as if I only enjoy something a “normal” amount. Well, fuck that. I don’t know where the drive to be detached comes from. Maybe it’s to protect ourselves, a way to guard against disappointment. Maybe it’s to seem sophisticated, as if having passions makes us childish or less mature. Or perhaps it’s about control – if we stay detached, we never have to depend on others, we never have to trust in something bigger than ourselves. Being detached means you can’t get hurt – but you’ll also miss out on so much joy. I’m a big fan of being a big fan of things. So many of the best things in my life have come from caring, from letting myself be involved, from finding people who are a big fan of the same things as me. If I pretended not to care, I wouldn’t have any of that. Caring – deeply, foolishly, vulnerably – is how I connect with people. My friends and I care about this show, we care about each other, and we care about our joy. That care and love for each other is what brought us together, and without it we wouldn’t be here in this city. I know this is a once-in-a-lifetime trip. So many stars had to align – for us to meet, for the show we love to be successful, for us to be able to travel together. But if we didn’t care, none of those stars would have aligned. I know so many other friends who would have loved to be here but can’t be, for all kinds of reasons. Their absence isn’t for lack of caring, and they want the show to do well whether or not they’re here. I know they care, and that’s the important thing. To butcher Tennyson: I think it’s better to care about something you cannot affect, than to care about nothing at all. In a world that’s full of cynicism and spite and hatred, I feel that now more than ever. I’d recommend you go to the show if you haven’t already, but that’s not really the point of this post. Maybe you’ve already seen Operation Mincemeat, and it wasn’t for you. Maybe you’re not a theatre kid. Maybe you aren’t into musicals, or history, or war stories. That’s okay. I don’t mind if you care about different things to me. (Imagine how boring the world would be if we all cared about the same things!) But I want you to care about something. I want you to find it, find people who care about it too, and hold on to them. Because right now, in this city, with these people, at this show? I’m so glad I did. And I hope you find that sort of happiness too. Some of the people who made this trip special. Photo by Chloe, and taken from her Twitter. Timing note: I wrote this on February 15th, but I delayed posting it because I didn’t want to highlight the fact I was away from home. [If the formatting of this post looks odd in your feed reader, visit the original article]

yesterday 4 votes
Stick with the customer

One of the biggest mistakes that new startup founders make is trying to get away from the customer-facing roles too early. Whether it's customer support or it's sales, it's an incredible advantage to have the founders doing that work directly, and for much longer than they find comfortable. The absolute worst thing you can do is hire a sales person or a customer service agent too early. You'll miss all the golden nuggets that customers throw at you for free when they're rejecting your pitch or complaining about the product. Seeing these reasons paraphrased or summarized destroy all the nutrients in their insights. You want that whole-grain feedback straight from the customers' mouth!  When we launched Basecamp in 2004, Jason was doing all the customer service himself. And he kept doing it like that for three years!! By the time we hired our first customer service agent, Jason was doing 150 emails/day. The business was doing millions of dollars in ARR. And Basecamp got infinitely, better both as a market proposition and as a product, because Jason could funnel all that feedback into decisions and positioning. For a long time after that, we did "Everyone on Support". Frequently rotating programmers, designers, and founders through a day of answering emails directly to customers. The dividends of doing this were almost as high as having Jason run it all in the early years. We fixed an incredible number of minor niggles and annoying bugs because programmers found it easier to solve the problem than to apologize for why it was there. It's not easy doing this! Customers often offer their valuable insights wrapped in rude language, unreasonable demands, and bad suggestions. That's why many founders quit the business of dealing with them at the first opportunity. That's why few companies ever do "Everyone On Support". That's why there's such eagerness to reduce support to an AI-only interaction. But quitting dealing with customers early, not just in support but also in sales, is an incredible handicap for any startup. You don't have to do everything that every customer demands of you, but you should certainly listen to them. And you can't listen well if the sound is being muffled by early layers of indirection.

yesterday 4 votes