Sun, 30 Jul 2006
This trend is one I had trouble explaining at Agile 2006, so bear with me. (Or skip the whole thing - might be the best use of your time.)
Imagine telling the story of how the bicycle evolved. You could tell it as a story of technology. In it, the bicycle evolved from a crude prototype to today's designs because of improvements in materials technology, a greater understanding of applying human power to spinning wheels, and changing "ecological niches" (from unpaved or poor roads to both roads that allow greater speed and also steep paths ridden purely for recreation).
You wouldn't really include people in that story. Yes, tires got wider because people all of a sudden chose to ride down mountains, but once that niche was chosen, the form of the bicycle can be seen as inevitable. Or you might note that the frames of some bicycles are shaped differently because (first) women riders wore skirts and (later) because of tradition. But, allowing for that, the form of the woman's frame follows function.
In such a story, one of technological determinism, it would be absurd to say that a mountain bike would look different if, say, society's class structure were different.
But there's another kind of story, one of social determinism, where human relations play a driving role. A socially deterministic story of ethernet might point out that squirting packets into the ether, checking for collisions, and possibly resquirting isn't an inevitable design. After all, at one point, token ring networks were a pretty serious contender, and they were much more orderly: you wait until you get a token, then you talk. No collisions allowed. A socially determinist story would point out that ethernet was developed at a deliberately freewheeling, relatively unstructured laboratory, not too many miles from one of the most try-it-and-see-what-happens cities in the world (San Francisco). The story would try to work through how the design of ethernet reflected the overlapping societies of the actual humans participating in its creation.
A true socially determinist story sounds weird to me (and, I suspect, you). After all, surely Ethernet was a better design than token ring: no complexity of worrying about a machine crashing while it has the token, for example. And, therefore, someone would have invented it anyway, and it was just happenstance that they worked at Xerox Palo Alto Research Center.
But we technologists tell pretty weird stories, too. Remember "information wants to be free" and "the Net interprets censorship as damage and routes around it"? Those are pure technology determinism, and they seem at least a tad less plausible today than they did around the time of the Netscape IPO.
As something of an instinctive middle-of-the-roader, stories that combine the human/social and the technological make the most sense to me. Agile is noteworthy for telling such stories. For example, the story of an XP project is not the story of a progression of work artifacts (as many processes are); instead, it's a story that includes people sitting in particular physical configurations and deliberately not replicating the ownership relations of the society around them (when it comes to code and expertise).
But at the same time, XP isn't a story you can tell well without talking about technology. It's not a story of a surgical team or a squad of soldiers: it's a story of working software, changed frequently in behavior-preserving and behavior-adding ways.
So, for example, continuous integration is partly about a social reaction to a shifting technological practice. Suppose you're working alone on a machine. You write code that passes the test that motivated it. You also run a whole bunch of other tests that take a few seconds to run. When one of them fails, that's no big deal, so there are no social pressures to be extra careful to avoid them.
In contrast, failing nightly builds disrupt the project much more, so—often—peer pressure is used to prevent them. (In one company, anyone who broke the build had to keep the Frog of Shame on their monitor for all to see.)
Jeffrey Fredrick's article on continuous integration shows how a particular technology—semi-fast notification of semi-substantial test runs—requires a social contract different from both the super-fast local build and the unbearably-slow nightly build:
Fredricks' article demonstrates a nice back-and-forth between the technical and social. It's that integrated story that I worry is slipping away. One way it will happen is for those with a technologist bias (most people on our teams) to vote with their feet. The dominant methodology today is "Scrum plus some of XP." The parts of XP that often seem to get left out of the "some" are the human ones: pairing, shared code ownership. Whatever you may think about the merits of XP's particular practices, they do tend to make it obvious that a team has to form some sort of a social contract. Maybe the habit sticks. Maybe it won't when the team choses from a buffet of practices, picking the sweet corn of refactoring over the brussels sprouts of shared code ownership.
Perhaps because I have a technologist bias, I'm more alarmed by social stories that include no technology. These are stories that involve how Placating people interact with Blaming people, or how INTJs interact with ENFPs—but don't involve what they're interacting about. Such models apply as well to a surgical team as to a software team, despite the fact that "crash" has a profoundly different meaning to each of them.
I'm not denying value to pure-technology or pure-social discussions. I just think they're seductively easy. I want more discussions like one that was had in Jeff Grover's and Zhon Johansen's wonderful discovery session at Agile 2006. They began with exercises demonstrating particular human quirks, but the talk afterward seemed to zero in on specific practices.
One exchange sticks out in my memory. There was an exercise about people's personal space. That, in itself, is nothing special (if you already know about it), but I thought the resulting discussion of pairing went in a nice direction. Personal space surely matters in pairing, but someone observed that sitting side by side is different than sitting face-to-face, and that the focus on a shared object (something external to gesture at) allows a smaller personal space. Someone else then noted that personal space is why he so wants chairs with wheels in pairing environments. That way, when people need to have a longer discussion, they can turn toward each other and simultaneously scoot back to maintain comfort. I thought that was cool. It's about social organization of people in a particular physical environment doing a particular task.