I’ve wanted to write this post for a while, and reading “Metaphors we live by” has given me some language and ideas to express it in. So here goes.
Requirements come from above
In a straw-man Waterfall project, requirements are delivered to senior developers to design. Senior developers deliver the designs to junior developers to implement. Managers instruct teams in how to progress. We have, in our language and hierarchical organisation, a metaphor which maps “up” to the origin of the project, and “down” to the implementing details. We also think in terms of seniority and power, with the originators of the vision having that seniority and power, and the more junior developers and testers being at the bottom of the pile. We even talk about the team members “on the ground”.
Think of every organisational chart with the managers at the top, or the V-model in which the requirements are split into increasing detail towards the bottom.
In life, things naturally flow downwards.
Orders come from above
The other hierarchy with which we’re familiar is the military. We can map our employment and communication hierarchies to those of the military. We even talk about companies fighting for market share, defending their reputation, a hostile trading environment, captains of industry, command-and-control management, etc. It’s hardly surprising that we have, in our subconsciousness, another pattern: that the more junior members of a company should obey orders. (This isn’t necessarily true even in the military, but it fits our perception of it.)
Turning the world upside-down
I once heard of a business analyst who got tired of explaining the requirements to the developers. “I’ve told you three times already!” she snapped. “Everything’s clear. Just do it.” The BA sees the developers as working to fulfil her requirements. They serve her needs, rather than the other way around.
When we write and deliver software to a user on an Agile project, we ask them for their feedback.
- Is this useful to you?
- Is this easy to use?
- Is anything difficult to use?
- Does it help you to do your job more effectively?
- Can you think of any ways we could make this more intuitive?
- What would you like next?
Because we think of communication in terms of orders, we also think of junior staff delivering value to senior staff. We don’t necessarily think in terms of the communication itself being a form of delivery. If we did, we might ask for feedback from the users of our communication.
- Is this communication useful to you?
- How easy was our communication to use?
- Was anything difficult to understand?
- Did it help you to do your job more effectively?
- Can you think of any format you’d find more intuitive than this?
- Any questions?
If the BA above was a piece of software, her users would be filing bug reports, working around her, and using her competitors instead. I imagine instead that she’ll get a poor review and teams will prefer to work with her colleagues. If they only have the one BA to work with, the project will probably fail – the developers won’t be able to use her to get their job done.
Stakeholders aren’t users
I’ve written about this before, and it takes on a new importance in the context of users, and stakeholders, of communication. When we get a management report, we often think, “So what?” We hit the delete key. Instead, we could try to think, “Who is it that cares about us understanding this? Why does he care?” It’s often the case that a user is meant to do something, as part of his job, which is for the benefit of someone else. Similarly, we may be asked to understand or act on something for someone else’s benefit – and it won’t be the person delivering the message either.
The stakeholders of communication on a project are often stakeholders of the project itself – the security expert, the chief architect, the facilities manager, etc.
Project experience
Eric gave me the concept of a “Project experience”. In the same way that we can think of communication as a form of delivery, we can think of the experience that our stakeholders and customers have when they ask us, as a project team, to deliver their code. We can ask usability questions about the team.
- How easy is it to use the team?
- Is it easy to see what’s going on and get information about the progress of the team?
- Is it easy to undo a mistake?
- Is it easy to input a new idea?
We often hold retrospectives amongst ourselves to work out how to change our processes. I’d also like to see us actively getting feedback from the people who use the project. And next time someone gives you some instructions which are unclear or don’t help you to do your job, perhaps this metaphor will help.
You’ve got a problem.
You want to measure, and improve, something about your project or people. You’ve got a good idea about how to do this. Perhaps the metric you want to use is already widely measured. Perhaps it’s been in the industry for a while. It might be a KPI, related to a management incentive or perhaps you simply want to replace your existing metrics with something better.
Before you put that measurement in place, borrow my Evil Hat.
The Seventh Hat
Edward de Bono identified six different ways in which people prefer to think, and created the six famous thinking hats.
Unfortunately for humanity, there’s a seventh way in which we think. It comes unconsciously from our innate desire for an easy life, our craving for approval, and mechanisms of feedback which tell us whether we’re doing the right or the wrong thing. It comes more consciously from our desire to be paid more, keep or improve our jobs, and make our bosses happy. If we’re determined to be evil, we can think of it as a way of manipulating the system for our personal gain.
The problem is, even if we aren’t evil, we do start responding subconsciously to the feedback provided by our measurements and responses to them. Like an electrical current, we tend to take the path of least resistance. If we’re seeing problems as a result of the metrics, we’ll address the problems – and if we’re doing it subconsciously, we may not actually analyze the cause of those problems, or the effect of our changes outside of the system. We’ll respond to praise for achieving the targets, and to criticism for missing them – even if the targets and the praise are implicit.
By putting on the Evil Hat, we can move those subconscious reactions into the conscious realm. Pretend, for a moment, that you have no care whatsoever for the success of your project, your team or the bigger picture. You are merely interested in your own personal gain. You are not interested in making life better for anyone else but yourself. This is what your brain is already doing, before the altruism in your conscious mind or subconscious habit kicks in (and there are plenty of arguments to suggest that altruism itself is merely done for psychologically selfish reasons).
Congratulations. The Evil Hat has just turned you into a sociopath.
Sociopaths can destroy your company or project
When a sociopath wants something, they can resort to any means necessary to get it. This article, Sociopaths in High Places, illustrates some of the behaviour we can expect from sociopaths, including bullying, cruelty, manipulation and outright fraud.
This only happens because sociopaths don’t care about other people. Of course, most of us are born with empathy. We feel other people’s pain. Don’t we?
When we’re stressed, our adrenaline levels rise. We are primed for fight or flight. Our instincts are turned inwards, to our own survival. We are more likely to act in our own interests, and less likely to worry about those around us. This rather lovely article talks about the circular nature of stress and concentration, relating the feeling of compassion to the state of relaxation. The opposite is also true.
So, let’s imagine that we’ve been set some targets, and we’re not meeting them. Our boss (who has targets of his own) is putting the pressure on us. Now we’re starting to feel stressed, which makes us less empathic. Even if we’re not sociopaths ourselves, we’re capable of selfishness, and it’s starting to show.
Sociopaths are in charge
The targets in any company tend to filter down from the top. The shareholders want a profit. The CEOs, board members and upper management are in charge of delivering that profit. Their targets and metrics are clear. As Chris Matts has said when talking about Feature Injection, they need to “make money, save money or protect money”.
Two psychologists, Paul Babiak and Robert Hare, started applying a checklist for psychopaths to the boardroom members of corporations, and published some of their findings in a book, “Snakes in suits”. This transcript of a radio interview with the authors and other experts illustrates some of the behaviours they found.
It’s often easier for a psychopath to achieve their goals by destroying others. Certainly, they have no empathic reason to want to help others, and they will protect themselves and the power they amass quite jealously. There are some phrases that we can look for to see if we or our colleagues are becoming less empathic with stress:
“It’s not my fault.”
“X did it.”
This is us, protecting our power and our jobs at the expense of someone else. We’re not thinking about the impact on others when we say these things. We’re doing it to protect ourselves.
Of course, true sociopaths and psychopaths (Wikipedia defines the difference nicely) will protect themselves in advance, so rarely have to resort to passing the blame – it will already be obvious to all powerful onlookers that they are blameless. Or, worse, the powerful onlookers will themselves have sociopathic tendencies, and be in cahoots with their sociopathic comrades.
As the stress mounts, the more clever amongst us will start protecting ourselves. We keep those emails, do everything in writing, and insist that processes are followed, making sure that we cannot be blamed for anything more than being cogs in a giant machine. The more creative amongst us find ways of becoming more influential and indispensable – hoarding knowledge, hiding our lack of skill, making friends in high places, setting others up to take the fall. As the habits develop, we become more and more sociopathic ourselves. Anyone who finds themselves unable to dispense with morality leaves, and the company culture is now fully riddled with blame.
Sociopaths can save your company or project
As Robert Hare says in the radio interview:
Enlightened self-interest is not a bad idea for psychopaths, and try to indicate or convince them that there are ways in which they can get what they want and need without having to actually harm other people. “Enlightened self-interest is not a bad idea for psychopaths…” Now it’s easier said than done, because their behavioural patterns are fairly entrenched. But these are not stupid people, I mean the range of intelligence amongst psychopathic populations is the same as it is in the general population. These are people who know what’s going on.
So, what’s going on?
The word is spreading. Self-organising teams, in which the members are not merely cogs, are more performant. Employee empowerment and learning improves company morale, reduces expensive employee turnover and can help make money. Transparency in the workplace fosters productivity. Incremental delivery reduces risk, resulting in more successful projects and more fulfilled staff; even governments are listening.
It turns out that in most cases, doing the empathic thing – creating positive cultures and professional experiences for employees – is also the most profitable thing, helping those sociopathic CEOs. It’s the most productive thing, helping their cahooting managers. If it involves transparency, it’s hard for anyone else to manipulate, and because an enabled, positive, productive workforce creates options it reduces risk and provides the greatest possible control in the event of uncertainty.
The sociopaths of the world – CEOs, managers, and democratic governments – are also starting to listen. If you know yourself to be a sociopath or a psychopath, you’re in a position of power, and you’re not paying attention, then you’re losing this race.
If, however, you are already cynically manipulating your company culture to be better, faster, more productive, empowered, self-organising, transparent, learning, improving, Lean, Agile, incremental, feedback-driven, forward-thinking, creative, optimistic and prepared, then congratulations. You are about to rule your slice of the world. Just what you always wanted.
Put on the Evil Hat
By pretending to a certain amount of sociopathy before we start introducing metrics and targets, we can ask ourselves, “How will we respond to these targets?” Will we game the system, manipulating these in a way which serves our purposes, but not the whole? Are they perverse incentives in disguise? Will we see anti-patterns emerge as a result?
We can also use the Evil Hat to turn this around. What metrics and targets could we put in place that would lead to even more productive behaviours? That would lead to success, and therefore maximise our personal gain? How can we make sure that the things we’re measuring are the things we most want?
It’s Good to be Evil
I was in a meeting when someone suggested introducing a KPI for measuring team leaders. “One of their jobs is to remove obstacles from the path of the team,” a manager suggested. “We should measure how many obstacles they remove.”
“Excuse me a moment,” I grinned. “That sounds like fun. Just let me put on my Evil Hat, and I’ll tell you what I’m going to do in response…”
Sometimes people ask me, “When we’ve gone Agile… when we are fully Lean… what will it look like?”
The only answer I can come up with is this:
Things will be changing. You’ll be in a better place to respond to change. Your people will have a culture of courage and respect, and will seek continuous improvement, feedback and learning.
I don’t know what your process will look like. The Lean and Agile communities have some ideas you can use to start with. Not all of them will work. Your processes will change, and keep changing.
I have no idea what skills your people will need. The people you have are good people; start with them. The need for their skills will change, and keep changing.
I don’t know what language, tools or technologies you’ll be using. Start with something that’s easy to change. Technology will change, and keep changing.
I don’t know which projects will succeed. Start with the most important project, or the most risky, or the one which has the highest cost of delay. Your market, your business and your customers will change, and keep changing.
There is no end-state with Agile or Lean. You’ll be improving, and continue to improve, trying new things out and discarding the ones which don’t work.
If you do find yourself with an end-state, the chances are that you’ve documented your processes somewhere, and are now asking your teams to adhere to them. Either your process is perfect, or you haven’t reached the end-state yet. I’m guessing your process isn’t perfect. Change, and keep changing.
At Agile 2009, Pat Maddox of RSpec will be running a BDD Clinic with me. Between us we have experience with Java, .NET and Ruby code, and we’re willing to look at and learn from anything else. If you bring your work or ideas along, we will be able to give you feedback and maybe make some suggestions for writing more readable or maintainable scenarios, examples and code. I’m hoping that this will be a community event, since the room is quite large – if you fancy yourself as an expert and want other people’s opinions, come along! Feel free to drop in and out of the session at any time; it’s not a presentation or an ordered workshop, and we’re there to be disturbed (if we’re not disturbed enough already).
I will also be running a workshop on giving and receiving effective personal feedback, and judging the Programming with the Stars competition.
We have been asked, as presenters, to provide materials for our sessions. Unfortunately the BDD clinic has capacity for 300 people! So, I’m not going to be able to bring enough post-its, index cards, pens, pencils etc. with me from England. If you’re coming to the clinic and fancy writing down any of our grains of wisdom or the pearls that you form around them, please bring your own. I imagine most of the vendors and exhibitors will have free pens that you can grab (try the Thoughtworks stand, they’re very friendly).
If you’re coming to the Feedback workshop and you can’t remember what you learnt, I should have done my job better. You might want to bring some paper and pens anyway. There’s always room for improvement!
Esther Derby writes great advice on giving feedback. I’m intrigued by her closing comment:
I think it depends on how a feedback sandwich is used. I tend to use it to make a safe space in which I can share feedback with people without them feeling like the world’s just been cut out from underneath them. I find it helps me phrase feedback in a very positive, constructive manner.
This is not, to me, the most effective feedback sandwich, despite adhering to any rules I might previously have given:
So, here’s how I’m using the feedback sandwich now (all other rules of giving effective feedback also apply).
I value this…
Whenever someone gives me some advice or criticism, it makes me want to change things so that I’m more effective, or so that the problem is fixed.
For instance, a graphic designer gave me some feedback on my new business cards. “You need to revisit the whole card,” he told me. “Change the shape, add some texture. Put in a tag line, something catchy that people can remember you by.”
Well, I’m not a graphical artist! Nor am I pretending to be, so the feedback didn’t really get me down. I knew I couldn’t get new business cards ready in time for the conference, nor can I really afford the services of a graphical artist right now. I thought to myself, “I could just give out my email address; that’s worked for me before. I don’t really need to take my business cards to the conference.”
Then it occurred to me much later that perhaps that wasn’t the artist’s intention. So I asked him: “Would it be better for me not to take the cards at all?”
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant. They’re fine, I mean, they’ll do the job if that’s what you want. I just wanted to give you some help to improve them.”
“Fantastic!” I smiled. “So, what do you like about them?”
“I like the colour scheme, and the symbol you’ve chosen – the big red moon – is very powerful.” And then he described the things he liked about the card.
Without anchoring the things that I value, I am in danger of losing them altogether. If I bring up someone’s annoying behaviour when they pair program with me, they might just stop pair programming. If I suggest a different way of solving a problem, they might stop thinking of themselves as problem-solvers. The human mind has this dangerous way of abstracting generalisations from particular situations, and confidence can be easily knocked! Even in the situation with the business cards, where I didn’t really feel depressed by the feedback, I was in danger of throwing away valuable work.
So, I can anchor the things I value; things that might change as a result of what I’m about to say.
“I love the solution you’ve come up with.”
“I really like the colour scheme and the icon.”
And…
The next bit of the “feedback sandwich” is the trickiest. It’s always tempting to put the word “but” or “however” in here! The word “but” has the impact of negating the first part of the sentence. I’ve heard this example a lot:
Mum: Well, he’s ugly, but he’s rich.
Daughter: Yes, Mum. He’s rich, but he’s ugly.
See what I mean?
Even the act of thinking “but” tends to lead me to phrase it unconsciously. So I’ve been trying to replace it with the word “and”. Like “should” in BDD, this leads my brain to go a different way. Instead of thinking of how to phrase the negative advice in a way which is palatable, I find myself phrasing things very differently.
“I love the way you’ve solved this problem, and I’d like to build on that.”
“I love the colour scheme and the icon, and I think there may be some ways of making them stand out.”
This has led me to new ways of providing feedback. I can even talk to managers now!
I don’t always need to criticise the behaviour that’s causing me problems in order to suggest changing it. Thinking about the last part of the feedback sandwich, and using that to work out what goes after the “and…”, helps me work out what to say.
…I want this.
There’s some place that I want to get to; some goal that I want to achieve. NLP’s well-formed outcomes can help here, or if you’re a software developer, think about the SMART technique for writing tests. How will you know that you’ve got to the place that you want to be in? What will you see? What will you hear? What will you be doing – or not doing – differently?
“I love the colour scheme and the icon, and I think there may be some ways of making them stand out. Perhaps if we had something textured, or cut into a different shape, that would catch people’s attention.”
“I love the way you’ve solved this problem, and I’d like to build on that. Maybe we could assign responsibility for this bit of the code to another class. I think that would make this class simpler, and then we could write some tests to describe its behaviour so that other people could use it too.”
“Thank you very much for letting us try out this Agile stuff! It’s great; I’m having fun. I really like the lightweight documentation, and I’d like to try and work out how to align that aspect of it with the reports you asked me for. Can you help me? I’m looking for a way to try and use the data that’s up on the walls and the project board to make this easier.”
Even when there’s some particular unpalatable behaviour that really does need to stop, this can help.
Even when it’s really unpalatable behaviour.
Provide options
I like the feedback sandwich because it sits very well with GROW, in which we move to our Goal from our Reality, looking at Options and selecting a Way Forward. Reality is the current behaviour that we value (not the problem!) and the Goal is where we want to get to.
In the examples of feedback I’ve given above, I’ve provided multiple options, or left an opening for them. Even when there’s only one option that can realistically be taken – nobody’s going to say “no” when I ask for more time to type code without having a back-seat driver telling me what to do – I’ve phrased it in a way which makes the other option available. Using words like “maybe”, or asking questions like “What do you think? Can you help me?” can invite other options, things that we haven’t thought of.
There’s safety in these options. By providing them, and allowing the coachee to make the choice, we’re saying, “You have the power here. You get to make the choices.” All I’m doing is sharing a place that I want to get to with you, and leaving it up to you to decide how to get there. You can ask me for help if you want, and even give me feedback if there’s something that I can do that might make a difference.
I was reading this article which starts with an assertion, “old commented-out code is an abomination”. That makes me wince, because an abomination is something hateful, wicked or shamefully vile, and what I see is someone learning! That’s not vile at all; it’s a wonderful thing, and I heartily encourage it. Instead of insisting that the code is deleted, I might suggest trying it out, and seeing which one works best. I might even talk about the benefits of deleting the code. Creating it as an option, instead of “the only right way”, will allow Alphonse to feel safe trying out other things, too.
(Incidentally, the way that the feedback is given in the scenario with Alphonse isn’t very safe. Giving feedback in private is usually better than giving it in public.)
Big thanks to Chris Matts and Real Options for helping me see the similarities between GROW and the sandwich model, and fitting Options into it. I’ve found it’s worth paying to create Options, and I might sacrifice some related feedback I want to give, or my idea of “the right way to solve it”, in order to do so. This has been very effective, and I find it a very natural way of giving feedback now.
Why don’t you give it a try?
What’s a Cargo Cult?
Once upon a time, during World War II, there was an island on which planes landed. The islanders loved the planes landing, because they brought goods that the islanders couldn’t normally get. The soldiers shared the goods with the islanders, and the islanders considered themselves wealthy, lucky, and blessed by the gods.
When the planes stopped landing, the islanders missed the cargo that the planes had brought, and decided they’d try to bring them back.
They did the same things that they’d seen the soldiers do to make the planes land. They created signal fires, waved at the sky, wore coconut-headphones on their ears and made replica planes from wood and straw. The cult which surrounded this sympathetic magic came to be known as a cargo cult.
What’s Cargo-Cult Agile?
As the Wikipedia author says, the islanders mistook a necessary condition for the planes arriving as being a sufficient condition for the planes arriving.
Teams and individuals sometimes make this same mistake with Agile. They believe that by following the practices of XP, Scrum or some other methodology, they’ll be successful in creating a culture which allows them to succeed.
Unfortunately, the islanders hadn’t realised that the soldiers created the airstrips because there were planes that wanted to land. The planes caused the airstrips – not the other way round! Without the planes, there would have been no desire for control towers or signal fires, for radios or waving arms, or for headphones, coconut or otherwise. And although these artifacts made it easier for the planes to land, the soldiers could have experienced some success with just a bare strip of earth and a little caution.
Agile values
In World War II, the leaders who wanted to win the war realised that planes were necessary. The air-strips helped them to use the planes effectively.
In Agile, the Agile practices that we know have emerged from teams that wanted to deliver valuable, working software, and who had discovered certain personal values that were effective in delivery. The practices they used allowed them to leverage those personal values effectively, but really, a bare strip of dirt – or any kind of process that reminded them what they were trying to achieve – would have enabled them to experience some kind of success.
I’ve found lots of different names for the values that allow teams to be successful – collaboration, trust, responsibility, innovation, camaraderie, rapport, honesty, transparency, helpfulness, forthrightness, motivation, responsiveness, agility, idealism, pragmatism, curiosity… the list goes on. They’re all wonderful ways of expressing those personal values, and I’ve seen or heard of teams succeeding with these values, regardless of which methodology they use. Partly this is because the values they’ve adopted allow them to try things out, to feel safe in questioning the processes they follow, to recognise better ways, and to be pragmatic in balancing the adoption of new ways of doing things with the responsibility for delivery.
I’ve also found that the following five values encompass pretty much everything that I’ve written in the list above, either alone or in combination:
- respect – the belief that other people are valuable, able to teach you something and amaze you, able to succeed given experience and support, interested in others’ well-being and success, and motivated by the desire to make the world a better place; and that any behaviour to the contrary is caused by external pressures or ordinary, forgivable human frailty
- courage – willingness to try new things which might not work, to accept personal risk for professional gain, to make oneself vulnerable in order to learn, and to lead others to do the same
- communication – the art of making oneself clearly understood, understanding others and feeding back any lack of understanding so that it can be corrected, listening and imagining, being aware of the impact of communications (verbal and otherwise), and finding other ways to communicate when required.
- simplicity – the ability and desire to reduce complexity, mitigate or isolate it where it’s inevitable, and avoid introducing it; to start, where it’s possible to start, without worrying about how or where it will end.
- feedback – knowing that our perception of our world and the ways in which we model it may be inaccurate, actively seeking out those inaccuracies (which may require courage!), trusting any existing mechanisms which can inform us of those inaccuracies, and listening to them when they do.
These are the five values of Extreme Programming, as outlined by Kent Beck (the poor definitions are my own).
As a coach, I’ve run competitive workshops in which these values formed the basis of the point-scoring. I’ve seen companies, especially Screwfix, adopt Agile using these values as a backbone, and seen them successfully release projects with previously unimagined scope and resource constraints. I’ve seen Scrum adoptions that were failing take on these values and begin working out the kinks, and XP adoptions that were rigidly bound by their processes, but whose employees lived by these values, become more fluid and successful as they aligned themselves accordingly.
I’ve also seen methodologies adopted without these values, leading to rebellion and the quick return to known, established practices that don’t leverage them. I’ve seen mailing lists on Agile topics become cliques – at least, I don’t feel I can post in them because of the lack of respect shown by some participants to others. And Kent Beck himself had to add that value – Respect – because it turned out not to be as obvious as he would have liked.
Measuring values
I’ve used the Dreyfus Model of Skills Aquisition frequently to measure how well the adoption of particular practices is progressing. I’ve found it useful to map the levels to these values as well, where:
- Novice: still shows anti-patterns, behaviours which are not aligned with the values
- Beginner: behaves like a normal human being, and would be pleasant to work with
- Practitioner / Competent: is a model for these values, has few “off-days” and is forgiving of others on theirs
- Knowledgeable: maintains these values intuitively, not only as part of their work-life, and can lead others in adopting them; has become a better person as a result of adopting these values
- Expert: maintains these values in the face of adversity and in environments where these values create vulnerability; can articulate the benefits of holding these values both personally and professionally; can teach others and provide constructive feedback to help them adopt the values and leverage them more effectively.
That “Practitioner / Competent” level, 3, is in my experience the average that a team needs to achieve in each of these values in order to successfully adopt any Agile or Lean methodology. They also appear to lead to more enriched, fulfilling lives at work.
Landing planes
The great thing about these values is that it’s hard to introduce perverse incentives when using them as a metric. One participant in a workshop asked, “What if we just pretend?” Well, you can’t pretend to communicate better without actually communicating better. You can’t pretend to make things simpler without reducing complexity. You can say that you don’t believe in these values, or that you don’t think they’re helpful – but in my experience, teams who’ve tried them have discovered that they’re so much more fun than not maintaining them, they haven’t looked back. Even pretending to value these values leads to good habits, and the reaction of co-workers has often been positive enough to cause them to be subconsciously ingrained.
So, give it a try, and if you’re thinking of adopting Agile or Lean, land those planes first. The practices will follow, and make a lot more sense.
I just read Matt Amionetti’s thoughtfully worded response to the reaction he’s got from his presentation, “CouchDB: Perform like a Pr0n star”.
Indeed, reading the response, it seems almost inconceivable that anyone could possibly be offended by his presentation. Matt warned people beforehand that there would be potentially offensive images, I believe in his stated intentions, and I heed his call that we should be contributing something useful to the discussion.
So, I’d like to give you, the reader, a little bit of insight into the human brain, how it makes connections and comparisons, and help you to understand your power over other people and their perceptions.
I’d like to start by telling you another story.
The Tale of the T-Shirt
On one dress-down Friday, a colleague came in wearing a beach T-shirt, featuring a topless woman coming out of the surf. It was just a black and white image, and the focus was on the scene as a whole, but nonetheless some of us felt that it was inappropriate. So I asked him not to wear it again.
“Why?” our colleague said. “I didn’t think it would offend anyone.”
“It’s not really that it’s offensive,” I said, “but think about this. I’m pair-programming with you, sitting next to you at a table. Someone else comes along to talk to both of us. They see your T-shirt, with that image, and then they scan across from that image to me. Can you see the comparison they’re making in their mind? Even subconsciously? That’s why I would prefer you not to wear that T-shirt – so that people don’t think about topless women while they’re talking to me, and while I’m trying to work. At worst, the comparison is offensive. At best, the t-shirt is distracting.”
Our colleague took the feedback very well, and agreed not to wear the t-shirt again.
How the brain makes associations
The human brain consists of a bunch of neurons, between which connections and pathways are built. Those pathways form associations. There are associations of which we’re conscious, associations of which we’re not conscious, and a blurred space in between.
Here’s a conscious association. If I want to remind myself to pick up my dry-cleaning after work, I can hide my handbag. Sound strange? Well, as soon as I go to pick up my handbag, and it’s not where I left it, I’ll remember why I hid it. I’ve built myself a conscious association between the absence of the handbag, and the task I had to remember.
For a subconscious association, watch yourself thinking of all the things you remember about Germany, when I say the word “Germany”, or “Elephant”. The vast majority of our associations are not in, and often not available to, our conscious mind. They add to our personality, drive the learning we get from our experiences, and there are simply too many of them for us to be aware of them all.
For an example of the blurred space between, I offer my fiancé’s habit of driving directly home from the station, even though we agreed we’d stop at the Chinese takeaway on the way home. He associates the act of driving down a particular road with a particular route, and consciously manipulates the car to follow his subconscious association.
So what does this have to do with pr0n stars?
Human beings learn associations by – amongst other things – proximity; either in time, or in place. That is; they will build associations more easily if two or more things are experienced close together.
If you’ve watched Matt’s slideshow, and you find yourself using CouchDB on a project in the future, will you be thinking of his slideshow? It was very memorable. I think I will find it hard in the future to disassociate that slideshow from the featured product. That’s a conscious association I’ve built. I’m aware of it.
There’s a subconscious association going on in that show, too; another proximity which is harder to spot. We’ve just experienced words of technology – key phrases like scalability, REST, public interfaces – with images of women whom we’re told are available for visual sexual gratification. There are a few men in some of the images; they appear to me to be in positions of power and influence. The images of women, on the other hand, tend to be submissive. So we’re learning, subconsciously, that women associated with technology are also associated with sexual gratification and submissiveness. (The only strong women in the slideshow are associated with conflict, which we try to avoid.)
If you doubt this is true, look through the presentation (and bear in mind that it might be considered Not Safe For Work). At some point, Matt introduces a picture of a typical development team. To which team member are your eyes drawn, and why?
At the very least, we start making comparisons. No wonder she doesn’t look happy.
The power of people with influence
Earlier this year, I finished reading Robert Cialdini’s “Influence”. It’s a very readable, memorable book. It explains some of the ways in which associations are made. In particular, he describes these mechanisms for influencing other people (his titles, my poor definitions):
- Social proof – if other people do it, we should do it too
- Authority – if someone in a leadership position tells us to do it, we should do it
Examples which Cialdini uses to demonstrate these concepts include the mass suicide at Jonestown, and the Milgram experiment.
So, if a community is building associations, or you’re recognised as or portraying yourself as an authority telling people to build associations, those associations will be stronger than normal. People will be more likely to act on those associations. In the same way that my fiancé takes the turning for home, “routes” will be set which the brain naturally follows, and acts upon. And it will seem perfectly reasonable, or justifiable, to do so – at the time.
So what can you do now?
If you were sitting in Matt’s presentation, or have experienced similar presentations or associations in the past:
- you might consciously choose to wear a topless women on your t-shirt, because your brain subconsciously confirms that it’s acceptable.
- You might expect women to be more submissive; to accept delegated tasks more easily, or question process less, or accept lower pay.
- You might find it uncomfortable to have a female manager or team lead.
- You might cause the women around you start dressing in less feminine ways, to distance themselves from any association.
- You might erroneously think you have a chance of scoring with your female colleague (notwithstanding cases of genuine mutual attraction).
- You might not expect the woman on your team to be able to teach you anything new.
And, if you’re Matt, or one of the many commenters whose opinions I’ve read, you might not completely understand the backlash. Hopefully this post helps.
If you’re not suffering these or similar biases, trust my experience that others are, or have done, and start thinking about how you might have been influenced. The associations aren’t helpful for me, and I doubt they’re helpful for the people who have them. Recognising the influence of others will help you to consciously choose different paths.
Hopefully if you’ve found the presentation through this blog, you’ve now read through this post and are now better guarded against these associations. (That’s why I didn’t put the link at the top).
You can also strengthen more useful associations. Go find the women in your team and talk to them about their technical abilities; the things that brought them to IT; times when they’ve felt empowered and assertive. Find strong female role-models – I recommend Esther Derby, Desi McAdam, Sarah Taraporewalla, Johanna Rothman, Cyndi Mitchell, Rachel Davies, Angela Martin, and many others too numerous to list here. If you’re looking for something more entertaining to get into your subconscious, try Ellen Ripley, Buffy Summers, Alan Moore’s “Promethea” or Manda Scott’s “Boudica” series.
And, if you’re thinking of presenting something similar in the future, be aware of the power that you have.
On engendering subconscious reactions
Matt entitled his response, “On Engendering Strong Reactions“. I’m worried about the subconscious reactions; about the effect that it has on the people who see that presentation and the way in which they react to me, and to my other female colleagues, afterwards. Matt said, “I would have hoped that people who were likely to be offended would have simply chosen not to attend my talk or read my slides on the internet”. That doesn’t stop the associations being built, and I can’t necessarily avoid working with people who have built those associations.
So I’m not offended by the presentation – I can understand why some women might be – but I am concerned by it. Hopefully this provides some positive insight into why. Matt – I hope you find it useful and enlightening; please let me know.
Feedback loops
- Because our customer doesn’t know what he wants, he finds out from the people that want the system. He sometimes gets this wrong.
- Because I don’t know what to code, I find out from our customer. I sometimes get this wrong.
- Because I make mistakes while coding, I work with an IDE. My IDE corrects me when I’m wrong.
- Because I make mistakes while thinking, I work with a pair. My pair corrects me when I’m wrong.
- Because my pair is human and also makes mistakes, we write unit tests. Our unit tests correct us when we’re wrong.
- Because we have a team who are also coding, we integrate with their code. Our code won’t compile if we’re wrong.
- Because our team makes mistakes, we write acceptance tests that exercise the whole system. Our acceptance tests will fail if we’re wrong.
- Because we make mistakes writing acceptance tests, we get QA to help us. QA will tell us if we’re wrong.
- Because we forget to run the acceptance tests, we get Cruise Control to run them for us. Cruise Control will tell us if we’re wrong.
- Because we forget to maintain the acceptance tests, we get QA to check that the system still works. QA will tell us if it’s wrong.
- Because we only made it work on Henry’s laptop, we deploy the system to a realistic environment. It won’t work if the deployment is wrong.
- Because we sometimes misunderstand our customer, we showcase the system. Our customer will tell us if we’re wrong.
- Because our customer sometimes misunderstands the people that want the system, we put the system in production. The people who want it tell us if we’re wrong.
- Because it costs money to get it wrong, we do all these things as often as we can. That way we are only ever a little bit wrong.
Reading Esther Derby’s article on peer to peer feedback made me remember something that happened a few years ago (not here, I hasten to add). I’m sharing this as an example of how peer to peer feedback can resolve a situation, so that any women out there who are experiencing something similar might take courage and do something about it, and because maybe it might give any men out there who indulge in this kind of behaviour an idea of what it’s like to be on the other side. This, gentlemen, is why the sexual harassment and discrimination laws were invented, and why so many women end up in court and the front page of the Times.
The company had a fairly laddish, alcohol-fuelled culture with only a few women (about 10%). The lines of ‘appropriate behaviour’ were somewhat blurred. If you’re female, have attractive qualities, and want to know what it’s like to work in a company with this kind of culture, go down to your local next time England are playing on a Saturday afternoon and take a seat. Hang around after the game. Most of the attention will be on the football, just as most of the company got on with their work, but there will be the occasional innuendo or flirtatious comment that may not be entirely unwelcome. Plenty of women thrive on attention. I certainly enjoyed my time with the company, and was sorry to leave the many friends I had made there.
However, sometimes blurred lines get crossed.
We had a secure project in the basement with no network access. An office upstairs had been set aside as a “daylight room”; a place where people could come to check their mail, browse the web and stare out of the window. I was off-project, and had been assigned a spare computer there to get on with training. So there I was, trying to concentrate, while across the way my colleagues were trying to guess the cup sizes of various women whose unclad attributes were displayed across the 19 inch monitor.
Now, I’m not easily shocked, and I could probably have ignored it, or just asked, “Honestly – do you have nothing better to do with your time?” But there was another aspect to this that stopped me from saying anything – something which made me sit as quietly as I could, blushing to the roots of my hair, and trying to bury myself in my work. The three gentlemen who were standing up behind the one colleague I knew were staring across at me, whispering amongst themselves, gesturing and giggling like schoolboys; applying their imaginations in the spirit of the competition to the only real-life example in the room.
I had three options. I could have stayed quiet and ignored it, and hoped it didn’t happen again, or maybe gone out and made a cup of tea till they moved on. I could have taken my problem to the senior management, or to the MD, both of whom were quite laddish themselves but understood the lines better than the younger company staff. The option I chose was the most difficult, and I only did it because – well, did you read my apprenticeship story? The rather scathing review that I got in my earlier years regarding the quality of my code? No one gave that review to me to my face, and finding out six months later hurt. Like a physical blow. It said more about people’s ability to talk to me, or their care for my work and professional well-being, than it did about my code. This was only a month or so after the review, and it was very fresh in my mind. So I took the third option, and caught the one colleague I knew (let’s call him Ted; not his real name) as he was leaving the room.
“Ted, can you spare a couple of minutes?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“It’s the material you were looking at over lunch. I’d prefer it if you didn’t do that again. It’s distracting, and it made me feel very uncomfortable.”
“Oh. Um, okay. I didn’t think you’d mind; you’re pretty open-minded about that kind of thing. I’ve never seen it bother you before; we were just having a laugh.”
“Ted, do you know what your friends were doing while you were browsing the site?”
He didn’t. I told him. Blushing furiously.
“Oh. God, Liz, I’m so sorry. You must have been really embarassed. I had no idea…”
“No, I could tell. Ted, you need to know that this was hard for me. I nearly went to the MD instead of talking to you, because I feel embarassed just confronting you about this. Maybe there are other women in this company who’d do that. You shouldn’t make assumptions about how people will react to that kind of content, or how it will make them feel.”
“Liz, thank you. I’m glad that you told me; I can tell that it was difficult for you, but I really appreciate it. I’ll talk to the others and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
We got on just fine after that.
I can’t actually imagine a more difficult and embarassing situation to be in than that one (except those incidents at office parties that are problems entirely of our own making!), but in retrospect I’m really glad I dealt with it this way. It’s given me the confidence to take people aside when I need to. I try not to let third parties deliver my messages any more. Because of this new confidence, I was able to help a developer I was mentoring become aware of his mistakes and improve his coding techniques well before his review. I was able to tell a colleague that smoking cigars is not better for you than cigarettes, and they smell far worse. I was able to tell the team leader who gave me the poor review about my frustration with getting the feedback on my code so late. Before I left, I also had a frank, open-minded and constructive discussion with a senior manager regarding the company culture and the problems it presented to female staff. And I told him this story as I’ve just told it to you.



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