Refactoring

Over the years, I’ve come to realise that code is more of an inter human communication device than a human-machine one. Machines only need electric current to perform their tasks. Logic gates, binary digits, you know what I’m talking about…

We, on the other hand, have evolved sophisticated mechanisms to relate with the surrounding environment. Even if the commands are still electric current based, we do not know how, nor do we want to communicate with each other at that level. One of the most advanced such mechanisms is the human language. This is a very complex construction, based not only on words, but also sounds, visual queues and, most importantly, abstract concepts.

It’s difficult enough to be in perfect understanding with each other, through human language (not to mention the differences between human languages and how they might map to different abstract concepts and all that…), let alone having to translate what we mean through an enormously oversimplified mechanism: that of a computer programming language.

So, thinking this way (that writing a computer program, in a computer programming language, is something that we do mostly for our own and our peers’ understanding) it makes sense to have that program as clear as possible. And yes, I know “clear” is a subjective concept, but that doesn’t mean we mustn’t try to achieve clarity. What I mean by this, is that it’s really much better for program readers to be able to grasp the intent of the program as easily as possible, if they are to do something based on it (modify it, learn from it, fix it, etc.). As always, don’t forget that you are also one of those program readers, even if it’s your own program.

Compare the following snippets of code and see which one you prefer:

  def exec(list) do
    res1 = []
    res1 = for x <- list, x.age > 18 do
      x
    end
    res2 = []
    res2 = for x <- res1 do
      x.weight
    end
    Enum.sum(res2) / length(res2)
  end

vs.

  def avg_adult_weight(people) do
    adult_weights = people 
      |> Enum.filter(&(&1.age > 18))
      |> Enum.map(&(&1.weight))
    Enum.sum(adult_weights) / length(adult_weights)
  end

The first snippet means nothing to us until we stumble upon x.age > 18, which gives away some hint about x probably being a person. A person over 18 years of age. This looks like some kind of filtering, ok. Next there’s some kind of transformation and in the end, some math. Sum / length looks like an average. Ok, I think I understand what they meant.

But wait! Why do they iterate twice over the list, isn’t that wasteful? Sure it is.

I left the multiple iteration pattern in there on purpose (something that is unfortunately very common in production code), to emphasise the fact that the authors were just drafting their intention. Once they tried it and saw that it “worked”, they moved on.

The second snippet should be clear for every programmer and, even for non-programmers. I specifically didn’t mention the programming language, because I really shouldn’t have to, for the reader to understand it. Even if you don’t get the weird syntax with those ‘&’ signs, you should easily read over them and see what the author meant. This is the essence of code clarity.

For even more clarity, I would also add details about the function signature:

@type person :: %{name: String.t(), age: integer, weight: integer}
@spec avg_adult_weight([person]) :: float

I think that code produced in the style of the first snippet, comes from the fact that authors think in an artificial way first, trying to explain human concepts in computer science terms (data structures, loops…). Refactoring then, is the process of translating the expression of those terms to a more human friendly form. This, to me, is a very low level process that we could avoid, by approaching coding from a human language perspective. For example, this is how I would approach the average adult weight function (ok, I would directly write the elixir code in this case, but the process is valuable when you don’t know exactly how you would implement it):

I know I want a function to tell me the average adult weight for a bunch of people:

  def avg_adult_weight(people) do
   
  end

Ok. Now I get those bunch of people and I want just the adults and then do some math with their weights:

  def avg_adult_weight(people) do
   # get just the adults… some filtering
   # do some math with the weights… sum / count probably
  end

You see, by taking notes (in comments) of what I want to achieve, I also get implementation ideas (after the ‘…’). This is quite the reverse of the above process. It’s a transition from human to programming language. Now, actually substituting the comments with code, is straightforward.

NOTE: Do not assume this function is written without having some verification mechanisms in place (tests, REPL sessions…).

Too many (maybe most) refactoring debates are taking place at the low level we discussed about a few paragraphs above. In my experience, this is really counterproductive. I see refactoring, as a process, starting from the step where you already have humanly readable code (like the second snippet) and you want to reshape it, to accommodate and play nicely with similar or new concepts. I’m talking about things like creating a higher order function, to abstract an algorithm, or similarly, in OOP, creating a template method in a superclass.

Senior developers

I guess this can be about senior anything, but I’ll stick to developers here.

There are loads of senior developers out there (and I don’t mean señor developer 🙂 this time). At least that’s what they call themselves and most of the time, it’s because the industry recognizes them as such.

I argue that, at least in most of the cases that I’ve encountered, this title is meaningless. Why? It should imply a lot of things, but it usually implies years spent in the industry, which is by far not enough to drive a team, to come up with adequate designs, to talk the client’s language etc.

I have seen far too many seniors that slow businesses down, or even drive them towards critical situations, because they know better. Classical example: senior developer imposes major code refactoring, in order to “stabilize the system”. Another example: senior developer destroys junior’s confidence by completely dragging their work through mud, trying to prove all the ways in which the junior is unworthy.

I’ve met a few real seniors. The experiences I’ve had, while working with them, can be represented by just a few words: safety, familiarity, clarity, simplicity, confidence. This is not at all related to how many technologies, frameworks or languages they master (although they do master several), but how well they can get their ideas across and how they can shed light on problems.

Oh yeah, by senior developer I mean also technical leads, team leads, architects and all the titles we like to invent to make ourselves feel better. How many times have you heard an architect saying something very clear and simple, with real business benefits? Now, how many times have you listened to an architect, having no clue what’s going on? Fun times, right?

Senior C# Developer (of course the caps make a difference…). Did you stop to think what that even means? Sure. It means a person working with C# for more than X years (5, 10?). Again with the time quantification… I’ve interviewed senior java developers, with 15 years of experience (almost exclusively java), that knew the language very well, but had no clue about JVM details. Good luck dealing with performance issues in production…

A senior developer is someone who makes things clear both in business and technical talk, who is really fun to work with, laughs and teaches you things. One key trait, as far as I can tell, is the diversity of things they’ve experienced: programming languages, industries, companies and life in general.

Harmful employees

What is a harmful employee? You’ve surely met your share in your career. Maybe you’ve been (or still are) one yourself. How can you know?

Usually, instincts will tell you when you are dealing with one and if all of them seem harmful, chances are that you are in fact the harmful one.

Let’s see what being harmful, as an employee, means. Businesses are run by people. The success of a particular business is directly translated into how well those people can contribute to it. Contributing poorly, means the the overall business health is less than it could be.

Considering business goals are rock solid and well communicated to everyone (meaning everyone understands what they need to do), here’s what a harmful employee looks like:

Poor technical skills that don’t improve

What this usually means is that the person does not actually want to do that particular job. Assuming they’ve had proper training and coaching, there is no reason to push them further into doing what they dislike. I call these people passively harmful.

A concrete example: Joe has to learn Python, to cope with the new tool-chain the team has adopted. After a month of study, Joe doesn’t seem to be able to do anything productive with Python.

Ever-present and putting a negative spin on everything

Some other helpful criteria is criticism, know-it-all (yet not helping and coaching), constantly using  the straw-man’s argument by focusing on meaningless problems and amplifying them. I call them actively harmful.

These people are very destructive, because they tend to shut team members off, blocking a serious part of the business resources. No matter if they do have some technical skills, overall they are more harmful for the business if they stay. They should definitely go!

A concrete example: Sarah has a senior role (tech lead, architect etc.) within team X. One of her duties is to do daily code reviews for the team. She always adds patronising comments, letting team members know they are not doing their jobs right.

I would always choose the friendly-and-inquisitive over the rigid-know-it-all-senior type.

We’ll talk in a future post about what the “senior” qualifier is used for and what it should reflect, in the context of software development.

The purpose of software

To understand the purpose of software, we first need to understand what software actually is. So what is it? It’s a tool. Nothing more, nothing less.

We developed tools, over the course of our evolution, to help us gain significant advantage over other species and to make our lives better. Our brain’s capacity to create sophisticated technology is what brought us to where we are today. We developed an unprecedented way of living, here on this planet and, in the last few decades, we changed it so drastically and so fast, that we can barely understand the impact it has on our environment and on ourselves.

The advanced technology we use today is mostly created and run by software. Farming tools, communication devices, transportation, scientific research, weapons, etc., they all have software controlling most stages in their processes. So the purpose of software, as the tool that it is, is to operate other tools, which in turn will serve us in solving specific domain problems.
Software development became such a big deal in our society, that ever more people are doing it and want to do it. Unfortunately, a lot of software developers (and dare I say the majority) make software development a purpose in itself, not giving the actual domain problem too much thought (or not at all in many cases). This doesn’t make any sense. How can you know your tool is actually helping?
Some might argue that software can be broken down into components, which can be independently built and then integrated at the end. Somewhat similar to a car factory. I understand the need for this mindset: it makes reasoning about things, easier. However, because of the “soft” nature of software, it is orders of magnitude easier to customize and change it than it is for car parts. This is actually the reality of software development: constant change. Still, it seems like most of the time, we build software systems that are difficult to change and maintain. Attempts have been made, to change this (e.g. XP, agile, lean, etc.), but somehow we took those ideas and turned them on their head until we ended up where we started, software difficult to change and maintain.

It’s difficult to see software as merely a tool, when there are countless hours being spent just to learn a particular programming language or operating system. There are egos at stake, personal targets, preferences. Social aspects basically. I don’t doubt similar things happen in other industries as well, but the nature of software integrates better with our capabilities. This has been observed quite some time ago already (Conway’s law).

We need to find better ways of creating and using this tool, because, let’s not forget it’s just a tool and it’s meant to make our lives better.