- Consulting / Coaching
- Jeff’s Blog
Tim, a modern urbane developer (i.e., he willingly practices TDD), talks about the reality of living in his team, circa 2008, where his organization was attempting to grow TDD.
I am not gonna lie, this place is crazy with buzz words and terms. They use words like Agile and Scrum as adjectives as opposed to ways of thinking and common sense still. I hear, “Well, we are doing Agile, so we don’t have time for design.” My jaw hits the floor… and then I start drinking heavily.
The team I am on currently, is a “center of excellence,” so to speak. We consult development teams within the organization (along with owning development projects, components, and standards). I feel pretty confident in my abilities to help teams out. I have no problem saying that I do not think of myself as an expert or perfect (yet). I have always been of the opinion that this should be a constant learning experience. I find it difficult to relay my thoughts, though, to the rest of the guys on my team. It is basically the three of them attacking me. It’s not totally me vs. the world, but it turns into a joke. I hear:
“…so basically you want me to double my development…”
“…there is no design in TDD…”
“…there is no empirical evidence that says TDD improves code…”
“…I have beens in shops before where the test cases were bogus…”
So…I think I know how you must feel sometimes 🙂 I never once say that it is a silver bullet. What I tell them is I didn’t realize how little I knew until I started using it as an approach. Primarily from a design and coding point of view. Don’t get me wrong, I have some smart-ass retorts, but I am just outnumbered 🙂 It’s a tad difficult for me to try and persuade them, because we all are strong developers (I think) on the same hierarchy, and everyone has their own opinions.
Fortunately or unfortunately, they will have to come on board though, because this is coming from the top down. The quality of code, and overall abilities of the development teams here is borderline atrocious for most projects. At least the ones we see on a regular basis. The good teams obviously don’t need our help. To put it bluntly, I have seen one too many 5000 line classes than I care to ever see again.
I think they (my teammates) have just had either bad personal experiences with TDD/Agile/etc., or bad education on it.
A commenter on last week’s post indicated that he viewed being the minority as an opportunity to show how much better things can go with TDD–fewer defects and getting code done sooner. That’s true, and it can feel gratifying, but you’re not likely to gain new converts by effectively showing them up–at least not immediately.
In a den of dogs with old tricks, some of the smart ones eventually come around, but in the short term they’re unlikely to admit that the new tricks might be better. Tim himself was sure his old way of coding (no TDD) was better until well after I’d left his scene.
In any case, from Tim we once again hear how bad experiences with TDD and agile can sour people. (Remember, this is four years ago.) What can we do to help? Here are a couple thoughts:
In “TDD Is Not a Silver Bullet” I reproduced part of an interview with Tim, a sharp young corporate developer that I’d paired with very briefly in 2006. In 2008, he sent me an email about his experiences in the interim. Tim’s stories are what prompted me to want an interview with him. Here’s a portion of the email.
Much to my surprise, it is being conveyed from the head of our development that we need to be “stressing” TDD. My surprise was… I thought we already were practicing TDD on an enterprise level. Regardless, I guess they had brought in this guy named [Very Big Agile Name deleted]. (I am sure he runs in your circles.) If you are friends with him, take what I am about to say not as an insult, rather my perception; but if he would have been the expert to introduce me to TDD, I would never even thought of adopting/agreeing with it. And, as it turns out, the teams he consulted felt the same way.
I have been telling my boss about my experiences with you, and told her it would be like night and day. I respected the fact, that while TDD was the stressed point with you, you also provided more than just using TDD as a silver bullet per se. Basic things… like knowing the language, having fun, communicating, and so on.
I got in touch with Tim this week to make sure he was ok with me publishing this stuff four years later. No surprise, Tim is still doing (and presumably enjoying) TDD.
If you’re a “real” programmer, you find coding fun at least some of the time. Of course, it might not necessarily be fun when the code fights you all the way, hiding bugs and throwing nasty dependencies in your path. Still, I happen to enjoy coding always, despite the challenges. Test-driving is fun, too–it’s more code, and it gives me confidence to craft cleaner code, which is even more fun.
Maybe learning doesn’t have to be fun to be effective, but I have to figure sucking the fun out of it on purpose can’t possibly work. (I’m disappointed that a Very Big Agile Guru could do that.) Yes, the sticky challenges of real code mean that you can’t teach TDD with a few trivial, “non-real-world” examples. That’s why I employ a deliberately horked-up, fairly realistic codebase in my training. But the class also learns that it’s only a challenge, not a barrier, and they quickly learn a few simple techniques to surmount the challenge. They have a good time learning TDD.
Ultimately, my students leave the classroom enthusiastic about the prospects for TDD, and confident that they at least have the basic understanding needed to begin tackling their challenges. After that, it’s a matter of their having good support for the practice. (Being the minority in a team, as I’ll relate in a later blog post through Tim’s stories, is a great way to lose that enthusiasm.) When I get to pair with developers to help them through learning TDD, both of us have a good time.
If you’re interested in coming up to speed on TDD, make sure you pick trainers and consultants who don’t suck the fun out of it.
As a writer, I’ve left a few incomplete efforts by the wayside, promising I would someday return and complete them. The one I feel most guilty about is an interview with a promising young developer named Tim.
In 2006, I had helped train and coach a development team in TDD at a large corporation’s headquarters in the U.S. In fact, the training and coaching were separated by a month or so. I initially worked with a cool manager who brought me in to run training, but by the time I returned for the follow-up coaching, the manager had departed. In his place was a humorless, dictatorial manager. While working with the team, I focused primarily on helping the individuals see how TDD might help them build quality software. Unfortunately the temperament of the manager meant I departed with few hopes for the success of agile or TDD at the team level.
When pairing with Tim, I could tell he was very sharp but also very skeptical and resistant to TDD. Two years later, I received an email from him. He had some interesting things to say. I asked him some questions on TDD, with the intent of shaping it into an interview I would publish. He asked that I not mention the company at that time. Well, four years later, I still think these are wonderful answers, and so I plan on publishing them over a couple or more blog entries. (Tim–sorry I took so long!)
Here’s one of the questions and answers from Tim.
Q #5. What did you finally see or recognize in TDD that you initially couldn’t see?
A. I have somewhat of a loaded answer to this question. I’ll preface with this… I didn’t go out and research TDD on my own. I had never heard of it, or knew what it meant. I wasn’t chomping at the bit to change the way I had been writing code for the 5+ years before that. It was directed from the top down in my organization, and my team was a test bed, so to speak. Right off the bat, I had preconceived notions as to why I had to learn this approach, but why should I? So I had no expectations as to what I was supposed to see other than tangible things that management probably thought were the only byproduct of TDD (i.e. JUnit/HttpUnit test cases).
So I can only answer your question with what I have found with using the TDD approach. It’s rather simple, and yet not so simple. I have to bullet them:
- I have found myself writing cleaner, more efficient, maintainable, and better “architected” code.
- I have a better understanding on topics as simple and innate as the Java specs, to more complex such as patterns, writing frameworks, and abstraction.
- Some would laugh, but I never followed the whole “code to the interface, not the spec” statement. I cannot imagine not following this now.
- My skills with the editor I use have become extremely advanced. So much so, that I would challenge anyone who claims TDD will slow you down that I can write the same thing simpler, faster, and tested.
- I automatically have a spec/documentation (the test cases) since that’s where I start. Any developer who says they keep up with documentation is flat out lying!
- I have more confidence.
- I have the feeling of “getting it”.
- And I have more fun.
I can admit that I didn’t fully understand TDD until a couple of years ago. So if you do the math, it took @2 years to really sink in, but I know I am better now than I was then (and I thought I was pretty damn good). I can only surmise that in 2 more years, I will feel the same compared to now.
By no means am I saying that I can solve any and every development endeavor and never get frustrated or challenged, all because of TDD. Development is challenging. If I didn’t get challenged than I would probably, really hate my job. I could do without the frustration, but that goes with the territory… and builds character. I feel like I have to say this because (and I think I mentioned it before) some developers I talk to think that TDD is a silver bullet to solve these issues just because you have some test cases and a build server, and as you can see (I feel) it’s much more.
One thing that stands out for me is Tim’s notion that he has “more fun.” More on that in an upcoming post.
Q. What’s “unnecessary complexity?”
A. Any code that doesn’t need to be there, or that is more difficult to understand than necessary.
Your system might exhibit unnecessary complexity if it contains duplicate code, abstractions that aren’t needed, or convoluted algorithms. Unnecessary complexity permanently increases the cost to understand and maintain code. We create it for various reasons, most of which we can begin to eliminate.
Time pressure. “We just have to ship and move on–we don’t have time to make it look nice!” You’ll regret this sadly typical choice later (not even that much later) when everything takes longer. Learn to push back when you know short-term time-saving measures will cost everyone dearly later.
Lack of education. To create quality designs that you can maintain at low cost, you have to know what that looks like. Most novices have little clue about how they are degrading their system. The concepts of cohesion and coupling (or SRP and DIP) are essential, but most everything you can do to learn about good design will pay off. Consider start by learning and living the concepts of Simple Design.
Existing complexity. The uglier your system is, the more likely that the average programmer will force-fit a solution into it and move on to the next thing. Long methods beget longer methods, and over-coupled systems beget more coupling. Incremental application of simple techniques (such as those in WELC) to get the codebase under control will ultimately pay off.
Premature Conjecture. “We might need a many-to-many relationship between customers and users down the road… let’s build it now.” Sometimes you never need to travel down that road. Even if you do, you pay for the complexity in the interim. Deferring the introduction of complexity usually increases the cost only marginally at the time when it’s actually required. When you choose the wrong unnecessary abstractions, it can significantly increase the cost to change to the right ones down the road.
Fear of changing code. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Maybe we have the education we need, but we often resist using it. Why? Imagine you must add a new feature. You’ve found a similar feature implemented in a 200-line method. The new feature must be a little bit different–five lines worth of different code. The right thing would of course be to reuse the 195 lines of code that aren’t different.
But most developers blanch at the thought–that would mean making changes to the code that supports an existing feature, code that many feel they shouldn’t touch. “If I break it, I’ll be asked why I was mucking with something that was already working.”
Good tests, of course, provide a means to minimize fear. In the absence of good tests, however, we tend to do the wrong things in the code. We duplicate the 200 lines and change the 5 we need, and make life a bit worse for everybody over time.