Exploration Through Example

“We can’t stop the conversation at ‘I just did that and I’m a user.’”

The “no user would do that” retort is the bane of testers. Ben talks well about moving the conversation past that. But a step further: any project I’d want to work on is a learning project, one that wants to be less wrong than yesterday, one that likes finding out about mistakes. Get past this particular conversation: fine. Maybe testers could even train programmers to swallow that particular reflexive retort. But the defensiveness about having partial understanding will still leak out other places.

Now, I once sat down with Elisabeth Hendrickson while she tested an app of mine. I’d built it with TDD to the max: business-facing tests all the way down to unit tests. It took her about ten minutes to find a high-priority bug. I immediately slipped right into the defensive programmer stance. It took me a few minutes to snap out of it. But if we worked together for longer, I’d like to think I’d get past that.

I aspire to be like Mark “capabilities” Miller, a programmer I once worked with. When someone found a bug in his code, he’d write a long email about it, praising the person, attributing all sorts of cleverness to her, and explaining how he’d come to make that mistake.

“People often recommend that you treat a bug as a story. […] I think this approach is incorrect. We’ve found a better way to handle [bugs].”

I want to disagree with Bret, but I haven’t come up with a counterexample that convinces even me.

“What happened here was the gradual habituation of the people, little by little, to being governed by surprise; to receiving decisions deliberated in secret; to believing that the situation was so complicated that the government had to act on information which the people could not understand, or so dangerous that, even if the people could not understand it, it could not be released because of national security….

“And one day, too late, your principles, if you were ever sensible of them, all rush in upon you….The world you live in — your nation, your people — is not the world you were born in at all. The forms are all there, all untouched, all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the jobs, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts, the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the lifelong mistake of identifying it with the forms, is changed.”