I saw this article online while taking a break from my latest software project. It’s mostly a silly thing, but I found a few interesting points in there. For the non-geek (you know who you are), this should should explain a little bit about your geeky friends.
A manager went to his programmers and told them: “As regards to your work hours: you are going to have to come in at nine in the morning and leave at five in the afternoon.” At this, all of them became angry and several resigned on the spot.
So the manager said: “All right, in that case you may set your own working hours, as long as you finish your projects on schedule.” The programmers, now satisfied, began to come in at noon and work to the wee hours of the morning.
Programmers are not morning people. This one is so true. My take on this is that software development takes the same concentration as playing the piano, which is to say, a lot. When you can reach that optimum level of concentration, your fingers can fly across the keys. Nobody is at their finest mental state at 9am. I’ll bet you Mozart never played the piano before noon.
In the east there is a shark which is larger than all other fish. It changes into a bird whose wings are like clouds filling the sky. When this bird moves across the land, it brings a message from Corporate Headquarters. This message it drops into the midst of the programmers, like a seagull making its mark upon the beach. Then the bird mounts on the wind and, with the blue sky at its back, returns home.The novice programmer stares in wonder at the bird, for he understands it not. The average programmer dreads the coming of the bird, for he fears its message. The master programmer continues to work at his terminal, for he does not know that the bird has come and gone.
This is so true. This goes back to my first point. Concentration. The zone.
A manager asked a programmer how long it would take him to finish the program on which he was working. “It will be finished tomorrow,” the programmer promptly replied.“I think you are being unrealistic,” said the manager, “Truthfully, how long will it take?”
The programmer thought for a moment. “I have some features that I wish to add. This will take at least two weeks,” he finally said.
“Even that is too much to expect,” insisted the manager, “I will be satisfied if you simply tell me when the program is complete.”
The programmer agreed to this.
Several years later, the manager retired. On the way to his retirement luncheon, he discovered the programmer asleep at his terminal. He had been programming all night.
This last one might need a little clarification. It’s pretty common for programmers to get carried away with all the stuff they want to add to a piece of software. I know I’m guilty of this. This is one of the most important tasks the management has. Software is never complete. There are only revisions.
Would you like to read the rest of The Tao of Programming?