I just realised that this month marks the 10th anniversary of my first payment for writing software (on, of all the weird things to be writing software on in 2002, a NeXTstation)! What have I learned from those ten years? What advice would I give to someone who wants to do this stuff for at least 10 years?
Programming is the easy bit.
Well, comparatively. There are hard bits in programming, and every few years a new paradigm comes along that means you have to unlearn whatever it was you were doing and learn something else to do anyway. So learning programming is never done, but still programming is easier than:
- estimating. The one project I’ve worked on that finished on its planned completion date only did so by accident.
- getting any kind of agreement out of two or more people.
- accepting that the other person isn’t a dick, but has different goals and problems than you.
- objectively evaluating your own work.
- objectively assessing someone else’s evaluation of your work.
- stopping programming when you’re done.
You always need to be learning.
You can’t compete on price in the software market, because there’s always some student somewhere who’s willing to do the same work for free. It was Mike who first taught me that. You have to compete on quality, which means you need to strive to improve your own quality. Because other people are too, so you need to run just to stand still.
There are various ways to learn, and they’re not mutually exclusive. A combination of books/articles, experimentation, and discussion with peers is valuable. If your town has an Appsterdam or a CocoaHeads, get along and say hello.
You probably don’t want to be doing this in 10 years.
I was actually a UNIX programmer a decade ago (well, I was mainly a student). Then I was a barman, then sysadmin, then a Linux server application programmer, then a Mac app programmer, then a contract Mac programmer, then a Java app programmer, then a security consultant, then an iOS app programmer. There’s only a small probability that I’ll be an iOS app programmer in 10 years.
This world moves really quickly. Ten years ago, the iPod was a new and relatively risky proposition. Macs used PowerPC CPUs. Windows XP was the new hotness, and .NET was just about to appear – meanwhile Mac OS X was a sluggish amalgam of NeXT, Java and legacy code. Java, by the way, was run by a now-defunct company called Sun Microsystems, which was trying to work out how to survive the dot-com crash.
Speaking of the dot-com crash, it seems highly likely that within the next decade we’ll see the dot-app crash. App downloads are worth $0.18¢ each, but an app costs $200k – apparently it’s hard work. That means you’ve got to either get yourself into the long tail value-wise (i.e. have a very good app that people will pay for), or you’ve got to find a million users for version 1.0.
For everyone else, the market isn’t worth staying in long-term. The market will bore of brochureware apps, only a few high-value brands will be able to support unprofitable vanity apps, and VCs will realise that throwing their money after an app with no profit strategy is the same as throwing their money after a website with no profit strategy.
It’s likely that at least one of the companies that’s big in the current software world – Microsoft, Apple, Oracle, Google and the like – will be big in the software world of 2022. It’s also likely that there’ll be some new comers that change things completely: Facebook and Twitter didn’t exist ten years ago, and neither did Android, Inc. Sometimes companies that seem to be in an interminable tailspin – like Apple – turn themselves around and become successful.
Learn more than one thing
This is related, in part, to what came above: the thing you’re using right now may not exist, or may be hard to get work in, in a few years’ time. On the other hand, some things seem to outlive the cockroaches: C – and by extension, languages that can link somewhat seamlessly with C like C++, Fortran and so on – have been going on forever. It can be hard to predict which of these camps your favourite tech sits in, so learning more than one thing keeps you employable.
More than that, if your technology of choice comes from a single supplier (e.g. Microsoft, Apple, Embarcadero) then diversification just makes good business sense. This particularly applies in the age of the app store where that sole supplier can also be your sole vendor – you don’t want to sign your entire business’s value over to one other company.
Learning another thing makes you better at the first thing
This is another reason why diversifying your technology portfolio is beneficial. Many of the changes I’ve made recently in the way I write object-oriented software come from talking to Clojure programmers.
The more different things you know, the more connections you’ll be able to make between them. The more you’ll be able to critically analyse one technology, beyond what the vendor tells you. And the more you’ll be able to understand other new things and incorporate them into your Weltanschauung.
Conclusion
My summary could be “learn whatever you can: you never know which bits you need”. Or it could be “don’t rely on your supplier to solve all of your problems”.
I think it’s actually going to be: analyse everything. Reflect on your work: what went well? What didn’t? Could you have done things better? If you don’t think you could have, then you’re probably wrong: what would you need to know to identify the bit that actually could’ve gone better?
But know when to stop, too. Analysis paralysis is as much of a problem as going in blind. At some point, you need to suck it up and move on. Trading these two things against each other is the real difficulty in software engineering.
but sometimes, the other person is just a dick.
What a nice article! I so enjoyed reading this. It reminded me of how I came to be a programer and through which technologies I had to step through on my way. Looking back, every piece of advice, language and paradigm knowledge, makes me the coder I am today. And its invaluable!
I also agree on assesment and looking back: admiting failure is the initial part, which leeds to expirience.
Cheers. Keep on writing!