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A lot of applications treat your email address as something immutable that is linked to you and which will never change. It can't be linked to someone else, and it can't change. This is, of course, not true. Email addresses do change. I changed my work email address recently (associated with the same account) and let me tell you: almost no software handled it correctly. This is the story of how badly applications handled this, how a surprising application handled it perfectly, and how you should handle this in your own code. The mess of my email change I've held this job for about six years, and recently announced a name change at work. Everyone has been great about it, and our IT admin immediately started helping me get my name changed across all of our internal systems. We started with Google, so my email address would match my new name. This was easy: GSuite has a separation of email address from the account itself, and my email address was updated. My old name was setup as an...
a year ago

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More from ntietz.com blog

Licensing can be joyful (and legally dubious)

Software licenses are a reflection of our values. How you choose to license a piece of software says a lot about what you want to achieve with it. Do you want to reach the maximum amount of users? Do you want to ensure future versions remain free and open source? Do you want to preserve your opportunity to make a profit? They can also be used to reflect other values. For example, there is the infamous JSON license written by Doug Crockford. It's essentially the MIT license with this additional clause: The Software shall be used for Good, not Evil. This has caused quite some consternation. It is a legally dubious addition, because "Good" and "Evil" are not defined here. Many people disagree on what these are. This is really not enforceable, and it's going to make many corporate lawyers wary of using software under this license1. I don't think that enforcing this clause was the point. The point is more signaling values and just having fun with it. I don't think anyone seriously believes that this license will be enforceable, or that it will truly curb the amount of evil in the world. But will it start conversations? * * * There are a lot of other small, playful licenses. None of these are going to change the world, but they inject a little joy and play into an area of software that is usually serious and somber. When I had to pick a license for my exceptional language (Hurl), I went down that serious spiral at first. What license will give the project the best adoption, or help it achieve its goals? What are its goals? Well, one its goals was definitely to be funny. Another was to make sure that people can use the software for educational purposes. If I make a language as a joke, I do want people to be able to learn from it and do their own related projects! This is where we enter one of the sheerly joyous parts of licensing: the ability to apply multiple licenses to software so that the user can decide which one to use the software under. You see a lot of Rust projects dual-licensed under Apache and MIT licenses, because the core language is dual-licensed for very good reasons. We can apply similar rationale to Hurl's license, and we end up with triple-licensing. It's currently available under three licenses, each for a separate purpose. Licensing it under the AGPL enables users to create derivative works for their own purposes (probably to learn) as long as it remains licensed the same way. And then we have a commercial license option, which is there so that if you want to commercialize it, I can get a cut of that2. The final option is to license it under the Gay Agenda License, which was created originally for this project. This option basically requires you to not be a bigot, and then you can use the software under the MIT license terms. It seems fair to me. When I got through that license slide at SIGBOVIK 2024, I knew that the mission was accomplished: bigotry was defeated the audience laughed. * * * The Gay Agenda License is a modified MIT license which requires you do a few things: You must provide attribution (typical MIT manner) You have to stand up for LGBTQ rights You have to say "be gay, do crime" during use of the software Oh, and if you support restricting LGBTQ rights, then you lose that license right away. No bigots allowed here. This is all, of course, written in more complete sentences in the license itself. The best thing is that you can use this license today! There is a website for the Gay Agenda License, the very fitting gal.gay3. The website has all the features you'd expect, like showing the license text, using appropriate flags, and copying the text to the clipboard for ease of putting this in your project. Frequently Anticipated Questions Inspired by Hannah's brilliant post's FAQ, here are answers to your questions that you must have by now. Is this enforceable? We don't really know until it's tested in court, but if that happens, everyone has already lost. So, who knows, I hope we don't find out! Isn't it somewhat ambiguous? What defines what is standing up for LGBTQ rights? Ah, yes, good catch. This is a big problem for this totally serious license. Definitely a problem. Can I use it in my project? Yeah! Let me know if you do so I can add it into a showcase on the website. But keep in mind, this is a joke totally serious license, so only use it on silly things highly serious commercial projects! How do I get a commercial license of Hurl? This is supposed to be about the Gay Agenda License, not Hurl. But since you asked, contact me for pricing. When exactly do I have to say "be gay, do crime"? To be safe, it's probably best that you mutter it continuously while using all software. You never know when it's going to be licensed under the Gay Agenda License, so repeat the mantra to ensure compliance. Thank you to Anya for the feedback on a draft of this post. Thank you to Chris for building the first version of gal.gay for me. 1 Not for nothing, because most of those corporations would probably be using the software for evil. So, mission accomplished, I guess? 2 For some reason, no one has contacted me for this option yet. I suspect widespread theft of my software, since surely people want to use Hurl. They're not using the third option, since we still see rampant transphobia. 3 This is my most expensive domain yet at $130 for the first year. I'm hoping that the price doesn't raise dramatically over time, but I'm not optimistic, since it's a three-letter domain. That said, anything short of extortion will likely be worth keeping for the wonderful email addresses I get out of this, being a gay gal myself. It's easier to spell on the phone than this domain is, anyway.

4 months ago 57 votes
Asheville

Asheville is in crisis right now. They're without drinking water, faucets run dry, and it's difficult to flush toilets. As of yesterday, the hospital has water (via tanker trucks), but 80% of the public water system is still without running water. Things are really bad. Lots of infrastructure has been washed away. Even when water is back, there has been tremendous damage done that will take a long time to recover from and rebuild. * * * Here's the only national news story my friend from Asheville had seen which covered the water situation specifically. It's hard for me to understand why this is not covered more broadly. And my heart aches for those in and around the Asheville area. As I'm far away, I can't do a lot to help. But I can donate money, which my friend said is the only donation that would help right now if you aren't in the area. She specifically pointed me to these two ways to donate: Beloved Asheville: a respected community organization in Asheville, this is a great place to send money to help. (If you're closer to that area, it does look like they have specific things they're asking for as well, but this feels like an "if you can help this way, you'd already know" situation.) Mutual Aid Disaster Relief: there's a local Asheville chapter which is doing work to help. Also an organization to support for broad disaster recovery in general. I've donated money. I hope you will, too, for this and for the many other crises that affect us. Let's help each other.

4 months ago 51 votes
Teleportation

teleportation does exist from OR to recovery room I left something behind not quite a part of myself —unwelcome guests poisoning me from the inside no longer welcome

4 months ago 44 votes
Rust needs a web framework for lazy developers

I like to make silly things, and I also like to put in minimal effort for those silly things. I also like to make things in Rust, mostly for the web, and this is where we run into a problem. See, if I want to make something for the web, I could use Django but I don't want that. I mean, Django is for building serious businesses, not for building silly non-commercial things! But using Rust, we have to do a lot more work than if we build it with Django or friends. See, so far, there's no equivalent, and the Rust community leans heavily into the "wire it up yourself" approach. As Are We Web Yet? says, "[...] you generally have to wire everything up yourself. Expect to put in a little bit of extra set up work to get started." This undersells it, though. It's more than a little bit of extra work to get started! I know because I made a list of things to do to get started. Rust needs something that does bundle this up for you, so that we can serve all web developers. Having it would make it a lot easier to make the case to use Rust. The benefits are there: you get wonderful type system, wonderful performance, and build times that give you back those coffee breaks you used to get while your code compiled. What do we need? There is a big pile of stuff that nearly every web app needs, no matter if it's big or small. Here's a rough list of what seems pretty necessary to me: Routing/handlers: this is pretty obvious, but we have to be able to get an incoming request to some handler for it. Additionally, this routing needs to handle path parameters, ideally with type information, and we'll give bonus points for query parameters, forms, etc. Templates: we'll need to generate, you know, HTML (and sometimes other content, like JSON or, if you're in the bad times still, XML). Usually I want these to have basic logic, like conditionals, match/switch, and loops. Static file serving: we'll need to serve some assets, like CSS files. This can be done separately, but having it as part of the same web server is extremely handy for both local development and for small-time deployments that won't handle much traffic. Logins: You almost always need some way to log in, since apps are usually multi-user or deployed on a public network. This is just annoying to wire up every time! It should be customizable and something you can opt out of, but it should be trivial to have logins from the start. Permissions: You also need this for systems that have multiple users, since people will have different data they're allowed to access or different roles in the system. Permissions can be complicated but you can make something relatively simple that follows the check(user, object, action) pattern and get really far with it. Database interface: You're probably going to have to store data for your app, so you want a way to do that. Something that's ORM-like is often nice, but something light is fine. Whatever you do here isn't the only way to interact with the database, but it'll be used for things like logins, permissions, and admin tools, so it's going to be a fundamental piece. Admin tooling: This is arguably a quality-of-life issue, not a necessity, except that every time you setup your application in a local environment or in production you're going to have to bootstrap it with at least one user or some data. And you'll have to do admin actions sometimes! So I think having this built-in for at least some of the common actions is a necessity for a seamless experience. WebSockets: I use WebSockets in a lot of my projects. They just let you do really fun things with pushing data out to connected users in a more real-time fashion! Hot reloading: This is a huge one for developer experience, because you want to have the ability to see changes really quickly. When code or a template change, you need to see that reflected as soon as humanly possible (or as soon as the Rust compiler allows). Then we have a pile of things that are quality-of-life improvements, and I think are necessary for long-term projects but might not be as necessary upfront, so users are less annoyed at implementing it themselves because the cost is spread out. Background tasks: There needs to be a story for these! You're going to have features that have to happen on a schedule, and having a consistent way to do that is a big benefit and makes development easier. Monitoring/observability: Only the smallest, least-critical systems should skip this. It's really important to have and it will make your life so much easier when you have it in that moment that you desperately need it. Caching: There are a lot of ways to do this, and all of them make things more complicated and maybe faster? So this is nice to have a story for, but users can also handle it themselves. Emails and other notifications: It's neat to be able to have password resets and things built-in, and this is probably a necessity if you're going to have logins, so you can have password resets. But other than that feature, it feels like it won't get used that much and isn't a big deal to add in when you need it. Deployment tooling: Some consistent way to deploy somewhere is really nice, even if it's just an autogenerated Dockerfile that you can use with a host of choice. CSS/JS bundling: In the time it is, we use JS and CSS everywhere, so you probably want a web tool to be aware of them so they can be included seamlessly. But does it really have to be integrated in? Probably not... So those are the things I'd target in a framework if I were building one! I might be doing that... The existing ecosystem There's quite a bit out there already for building web things in Rust. None of them quite hit what I want, which is intentional on their part: none of them aspire to be what I'm looking for here. I love what exists, and I think we're sorely missing what I want here (I don't think I'm alone). Web frameworks There are really two main groups of web frameworks/libraries right now: the minimalist ones, and the single-page app ones. The minimalist ones are reminiscent of Flask, Sinatra, and other small web frameworks. These include the excellent actix-web and axum, as well as myriad others. There are so many of these, and they all bring a nice flavor to web development by leveraging Rust's type system! But they don't give you much besides handlers; none of the extra functionality we want in a full for-lazy-developers framework. Then there are the single-page app frameworks. These fill a niche where you can build things with Rust on the backend and frontend, using WebAssembly for the frontend rendering. These tend to be less mature, but good examples include Dioxus, Leptos, and Yew. I used Yew to build a digital vigil last year, and it was enjoyable but I'm not sure I'd want to do it in a "real" production setting. Each of these is excellent for what it is—but what it is requires a lot of wiring up still. Most of my projects would work well with the minimalist frameworks, but those require so much wiring up! So it ends up being a chore to set that up each time that I want to do something. Piles of libraries! The rest of the ecosystem is piles of libraries. There are lots of template libraries! There are some libraries for logins, and for permissions. There are WebSocket libraries! Often you'll find some projects and examples which integrate a couple of the things you're using, but you won't find something that integrates all the pieces you're using. I've run into some of the examples being out of date, which is to be expected in a fast-moving ecosystem. The pile of libraries leaves a lot of friction, though. It makes getting started, the "just wiring it up" part, very difficult and often an exercise in researching how things work, to understand them in depth enough to do the integration. What I've done before The way I've handled this before is basically to pick a base framework (typically actix-web or axum) and then search out all the pieces I want on top of it. Then I'd wire them up, either all at the beginning or as I need them. There are starter templates that could help me avoid some of this pain. They can definitely help you skip some of the initial pain, but you still get all the maintenance burden. You have to make sure your libraries stay up to date, even when there are breaking changes. And you will drift from the template, so it's not really feasible to merge changes to it into your project. For the projects I'm working on, this means that instead of keeping one framework up to date, I have to keep n bespoke frameworks up to date across all my projects! Eep! I'd much rather have a single web framework that handles it all, with clean upgrade instructions between versions. There will be breaking changes sometimes, but this way they can be documented instead of coming about due to changes in the interactions between two components which don't even know they're going to be integrated together. Imagining the future I want In an ideal world, there would be a framework for Rust that gives me all the features I listed above. And it would also come with excellent documentation, changelogs, thoughtful versioning and handling of breaking changes, and maybe even a great community. All the things I love about Django, could we have those for a Rust web framework so that we can reap the benefits of Rust without having to go needlessly slowly? This doesn't exist right now, and I'm not sure if anyone else is working on it. All paths seem to lead me toward "whoops I guess I'm building a web framework." I hope someone else builds one, too, so we can have multiple options. To be honest, "web framework" sounds way too grandiose for what I'm doing, which is simply wiring things together in an opinionated way, using (mostly) existing building blocks1. Instead of calling it a framework, I'm thinking of it as a web toolkit: a bundle of tools tastefully chosen and arranged to make the artisan highly effective. My toolkit is called nicole's web toolkit, or newt. It's available in a public repository, but it's really not usable (the latest changes aren't even pushed yet). It's not even usable for me yet—this isn't a launch post, more shipping my design doc (and hoping someone will do my work for me so I don't have to finish newt :D). The goal for newt is to be able to create a new small web app and start on the actual project in minutes instead of days, bypassing the entire process of wiring things up. I think the list of must-haves and quality-of-life features above will be a start, but by no means everything we need. I'm not ready to accept contributions, but I hope to be there at some point. I think that Rust really needs this, and the whole ecosystem will benefit from it. A healthy ecosystem will have multiple such toolkits, and I hope to see others develop as well. * * * If you want to follow along with mine, though, feel free to subscribe to my RSS feed or newsletter, or follow me on Mastodon. I'll try to let people know in all those places when the toolkit is ready for people to try out. Or I'll do a post-mortem on it, if it ends up that I don't get far with it! Either way, this will be fun. 1 I do plan to build a few pieces from scratch for this, as the need arises. Some things will be easier that way, or fit more cohesively. Can't I have a little greenfield, as a treat?

4 months ago 52 votes
What I tell people new to on-call

The first time I went on call as a software engineer, it was exciting—and ultimately traumatic. Since then, I've had on-call experiences at multiple other jobs and have grown to really appreciate it as part of the role. As I've progressed through my career, I've gotten to help establish on-call processes and run some related trainings. Here is some of what I wish I'd known when I started my first on-call shift, and what I try to tell each engineer before theirs. Heroism isn't your job, triage is It's natural to feel a lot of pressure with on-call responsibilities. You have a production application that real people need to use! When that pager goes off, you want to go in and fix the problem yourself. That's the job, right? But it's not. It's not your job to fix every issue by yourself. It is your job to see that issues get addressed. The difference can be subtle, but important. When you get that page, your job is to assess what's going on. A few questions I like to ask are: What systems are affected? How badly are they impacted? Does this affect users? With answers to those questions, you can figure out what a good course of action is. For simple things, you might just fix it yourself! If it's a big outage, you're putting on your incident commander hat and paging other engineers to help out. And if it's a false alarm, then you're putting in a fix for the noisy alert! (You're going to fix it, not just ignore that, right?) Just remember not to be a hero. You don't need to fix it alone, you just need to figure out what's going on and get a plan. Call for backup Related to the previous one, you aren't going this alone. Your main job in holding the pager is to assess and make sure things get addressed. Sometimes you can do that alone, but often you can't! Don't be afraid to call for backup. People want to be helpful to their teammates, and they want that support available to them, too. And it's better to be wake me up a little too much than to let me sleep through times when I was truly needed. If people are getting woken up a lot, the issue isn't calling for backup, it's that you're having too many true emergencies. It's best to figure out that you need backup early, like 10 minutes in, to limit the damage of the incident. The faster you figure out other people are needed, the faster you can get the situation under control. Communicate a lot In any incident, adrenaline runs and people are stressed out. The key to good incident response is communication in spite of the adrenaline. Communicating under pressure is a skill, and it's one you can learn. Here are a few of the times and ways of communicating that I think are critical: When you get on and respond to an alert, say that you're there and that you're assessing the situation Once you've assessed it, post an update; if the assessment is taking a while, post updates every 15 minutes while you do so (and call for backup) After the situation is being handled, update key stakeholders at least every 30 minutes for the first few hours, and then after that slow down to hourly You are also going to have to communicate within the response team! There might be a dedicated incident channel or one for each incident. Either way, try to over communicate about what you're working on and what you've learned. Keep detailed notes, with timestamps When you're debugging weird production stuff at 3am, that's the time you really need to externalize your memory and thought processes into a notes document. This helps you keep track of what you're doing, so you know which experiments you've run and which things you've ruled out as possibilities or determined as contributing factors. It also helps when someone else comes up to speed! That person will be able to use your notes to figure out what has happened, instead of you having to repeat it every time someone gets on. Plus, the notes doc won't forget things, but you will. You will also need these notes later to do a post-mortem. What was tried, what was found, and how it was fixed are all crucial for the discussion. Timestamps are critical also for understanding the timeline of the incident and the response! This document should be in a shared place, since people will use it when they join the response. It doesn't need to be shared outside of the engineering organization, though, and likely should not be. It may contain details that lead to more questions than they answer; sometimes, normal engineering things can seem really scary to external stakeholders! You will learn a lot! When you're on call, you get to see things break in weird and unexpected ways. And you get to see how other people handle those things! Both of these are great ways to learn a lot. You'll also just get exposure to things you're not used to seeing. Some of this will be areas that you don't usually work in, like ops if you're a developer, or application code if you're on the ops side. Some more of it will be business side things for the impact of incidents. And some will be about the psychology of humans, as you see the logs of a user clicking a button fifteen hundred times (get that person an esports sponsorship, geez). My time on call has led to a lot of my professional growth as a software engineer. It has dramatically changed how I worked on systems. I don't want to wake up at 3am to fix my bad code, and I don't want it to wake you up, either. Having to respond to pages and fix things will teach you all the ways they can break, so you'll write more resilient software that doesn't break. And it will teach you a lot about the structure of your engineering team, good or bad, in how it's structured and who's responding to which things. Learn by shadowing No one is born skilled at handling production alerts. You gain these skills by doing, so get out there and do it—but first, watch someone else do it. No matter how much experience you have writing code (or responding to incidents), you'll learn a lot by watching a skilled coworker handle incoming issues. Before you're the primary for an on-call shift, you should shadow someone for theirs. This will let you see how they handle things and what the general vibe is. This isn't easy to do! It means that they'll have to make sure to loop you in even when blood is pumping, so you may have to remind them periodically. You'll probably miss out on some things, but you'll see a lot, too. Some things can (and should) wait for Monday morning When we get paged, it usually feels like a crisis. If not to us, it sure does to the person who's clicking that button in frustration, generating a ton of errors, and somehow causing my pager to go off. But not all alerts are created equal. If you assess something and figure out that it's only affecting one or two customers in something that's not time sensitive, and it's currently 4am on a Saturday? Let people know your assessment (and how to reach you if you're wrong, which you could be) and go back to bed. Real critical incidents have to be fixed right away, but some things really need to wait. You want to let them go until later for two reasons. First is just the quality of the fix. You're going to fix things more completely if you're rested when you're doing so! Second, and more important, is your health. It's wrong to sacrifice your health (by being up at 4am fixing things) for something non-critical. Don't sacrifice your health Many of us have had bad on-call experiences. I sure have. One regret is that I didn't quit that on-call experience sooner. I don't even necessarily mean quitting the job, but pushing back on it. If I'd stood up for myself and said "hey, we have five engineers, it should be more than just me on call," and held firm, maybe I'd have gotten that! Or maybe I'd have gotten a new job. What I wouldn't have gotten is the knowledge that you can develop a rash from being too stressed. If you're in a bad on-call situation, please try to get out of it! And if you can't get out of it, try to be kind to yourself and protect yourself however you can (you deserve better). Be methodical and reproduce before you fix Along with taking great notes, you should make sure that you test hypotheses. What could be causing this issue? And before that, what even is the problem? And how do we make it happen? Write down your answers to these! Then go ahead and try to reproduce the issue. After reproducing it, you can try to go through your hypotheses and test them out to see what's actually contributing to the issue. This way, you can bisect problem spaces instead of just eliminating one thing at a time. And since you know how to reproduce the issue now, you can be confident that you do have a fix at the end of it all! Have fun Above all, the thing I want people new to on-call to do? Just have fun. I know this might sound odd, because being on call is a big job responsibility! But I really do think it can be fun. There's a certain kind of joy in going through the on-call response together. And there's a fun exhilaration to it all. And the joy of fixing things and really being the competent engineer who handled it with grace under pressure. Try to make some jokes (at an appropriate moment!) and remember that whatever happens, it's going to be okay. Probably.

5 months ago 60 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