The Death of Software Engineering?

Tom DeMarco recently made quite a stir with an article in IEEE Software (July/Aug, 2009). Despite his own history as an influential thought-leader in software engineering, he now suggests that perhaps the very idea of software engineering has outlived its usefulness. The value of control, furthermore, depends inversely on the value of the project itself. In other words, “strict control is something that matters a lot on relatively useless projects and much less on useful projects.”

Needless to say, the idea was controversial, and unleashed a torrent of letters in response. There has long been a creative tension between software development as a rigorous scientific discipline, and the more romantic notion of software developer as artist or craftsman, with passionate debate on both sides. My own viewpoint tends to fall somewhere in the middle, and I found DeMarco’s article especially moving, because it suggests a willingness to abandon orthodoxy in favor of pragmatic reality.

One aspect of conventional wisdom that DeMarco challenges is his own earlier statement that “you can’t control what you can’t measure.” It’s a catchy statement, and oft-quoted. Certainly, it’s hard to argue against measuring the critical parameters for your project if you have a practical means of doing so. But life is full of counter-examples as well. As my wife and I interact with our daughter, we establish guidelines and boundaries. Her compliance isn’t measured in any scientific way, yet she’s not “out of control.” Similarly, I’ve experienced success in guiding projects without measuring every aspect of the outcome that is important: Typically cost and schedule are measured quantitatively, but code quality may be more subjective. Metrics can be useful, but not necessarily essential, depending on the type of project.

I am reminded of a linguistics professor I heard lecture in the 1980s (I wish I could remember his name -- it was a great lecture!). He was challenging the opinion held by many that we don’t really know something unless we can put it in words. As a counter-example he cited an instance where his young grandson went missing. He knew vividly what the boy looked like, and would have recognized him in an instant. Nevertheless, it was difficult to describe him precisely in words for the missing persons report. It often seems to be the case that we know something when we see it (high-quality software design, for example), even if we cannot quantify a metric to prove our case.
I hope the end result of Tom DeMarco’s skeptical article will be greater openness and flexibility. As software developers, we have many tools at our disposal. We can be craftsmen and engineers at the same time. Embracing one end of the spectrum doesn’t exclude us from the other.

The City Bike

When was the last time you had that much fun on a bike? I'm not necessarily recommending V-neck sweaters and saddle shoes for biking attire (although there's nothing wrong with that). But what about the bike itself? Those sturdy, dependable steeds of our childhood memories - where have they gone?

Fortunately, there seems to be a resurgence of this type of bicycle, often called a "city bike." Not that they've ever really gone away in much of the rest of the world. In the United States, however, we've been riding in a different direction for a while. When "10-speed" bikes caught on in the 70s, I can recall how odd it felt at first to ride such a skittish beast. The mountain bike craze of the late 80s / early 90s brought us back into a more stable kind of riding. But unless you're cruising down singletrack, most of us don't really need a mountain bike.

Don't get me wrong - I love drop handlebars, and enjoy a light, responsive road bike as much as the next guy. But for a certain style of riding, there's nothing to beat the relaxed ride of our youth. Besides, I always need a bike project to occupy my mind (especially in the winter months). So I'm thinking of converting my hybrid bike into more of a city bike configuration. The main thing is to change out the handlebars; I'm just waiting for the oh-so-beautiful porteur handlebars at Velo Orange to come back in stock.

The Perfect Saddle

As I was eating the roasted beet salad at McGinty's tonight, it struck me that some things in life are perfect just as they are. There aren't too many other products I could think of that were perfect or near-perfect, but one of them is the Brooks B-17 saddle. (I know - quite a leap there from beets to bike saddles, but bear with me).

I have used this saddle on a variety of bikes for everything from trail riding to long-distance touring, and even for a century ride. Regardless of the distance, the saddle has always been completely comfortable. Everyone I have run into who's riding a Brooks saddle says the same thing. Given how common the sore butt complaint is among cyclists, it's amazing that you don't see more of these.

There are three main complaints I've heard about Brooks saddles: cost, break-in and maintenance. Let me briefly touch on all three.

Cost

Some of the sprung saddles can get quite expensive (over $150), and of course the titanium models are stratospheric. But the B-17 standard is available from many internet retailers for under $90. It's hard to find a quality saddle much cheaper than that. A quick check at Performance Bike just now brought up over 40 saddles that cost more than the B-17. There are also numerous testimonials from folks who say their Brooks saddle has outlasted the first bike they put it on. So all things considered it seems like an excellent value.

Break-In

Before I got my first B-17, I had read all the horror stories about the long, painful break-in period that's supposedly required in order to reach riding nirvana. My experience with two different B-17s is that one of them (the first one I ever rode) was extremely comfortable right off the bat. The other one wasn't quite as comfortable at first -- though still better than any other saddle I've ever used. That one took about 500 miles of riding to become as comfortable as the first. But it was still pleasant to ride on during that break-in period. I wouldn't consider the break-in period to be a deal killer by any means.

Maintenance

Because the saddle is made from natural leather (no rubber, nylon or other synthetic materials) it does require a bit of care. You shouldn't make a habit of leaving it out in the rain. Also, the manufacturer recommends you treat it with Proofide every so often. That is a kind of soft wax that you rub into the leather. It's easily done, and doesn't create a mess. Some people take this to mean you can never get the saddle wet, and that's certainly not the case. Mine has sat through several all-night downpours during RAGBRAI, and often collects road spray from commuting in the rain. It's none the worse for the experience (though I do try to dry it off once I get home from a wet ride). Maintenance needs, though not zero, are still fairly minimal.

If you've never tried a Brooks saddle, what are you waiting for? There are several retailers that will even offer a 6-month money back guarantee if you try it and decide it's not for you.