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Becoming An Engineering Manager Can Make You Better At Life And Relationships

mipsytipsy, , , , , 29 Comments

Original title: “Why Should You (Or Anyone) Become An Engineering Manager?”

The first piece I ever wrote about engineering management, The Engineer/Manager Pendulum, was written as a love letter to a friend of mine who was unhappy at work. He was an engineering director at a large and fast-growing startup, where he had substantially built out the entire infrastructure org, but he really missed being an engineer and building things. He wasn’t getting a lot of satisfaction out of his work, and he felt like there were other people who might relish the challenge and do it better than he could.

At the same time, it felt like a lot to walk away from! He had spent years building up not only the teams, but also his influence and reputation. He had grown accustomed to being in the room where decisions get made, and didn’t want to give that up or take a big step back in his career. He agonized over this for a long time (and I listened over many whiskeys). 🙂

To me it seemed obvious that his power and influence would only increase if he went back to engineering. You bring your credibility and your relationships along with you, and enthusiasm is contagious. So I wrote the piece with him in mind, but it definitely struck a nerve; it is still the most-read piece I have ever written.

That was in 2017. I’ve written a lot over the years since then about teams and management. For a long time, everything I wrote seemed to come out with a pretty noticeable bias against management, towards engineering:

I go back and read some of those pieces now, and the pervasive anti-manager slant actually makes me a bit uncomfortable, because the environment has changed quite a lot since then.

Miserable managers have miserable reports

When I started writing about engineering management, it seemed like there were a lot of unhappy, resentful, poorly trained managers, lots of whom would prefer to be writing code. Most people made the choice to switch to management for reasons that had nothing to do with the work itself.

  • Becoming a manager was seen as a promotion
  • It was the only form of career progression available at many places
  • Managers made a lot more money
  • It was the only way to get a seat at the table, or be in the loop
  • They were tired of taking orders from someone else

But a lot has changed. The emergence of staff+ engineering has been huge (two new books published in the last five years, and at least one conference!). The industry has broadly coalesced around engineering levels and career progression; a parallel technical leadership track is now commonplace.

We’ve become more aware of how fragile command-and-control systems are, and that you want to engage people’s agency and critical thinking skills. You want them to feel ownership over their labor. You can’t build great software on autopilot, or by picking up jira tasks. Our systems are becoming so complex that you need people to be emotionally and mentally engaged, curious, and continuously learning and improving, both as individuals and as teams.

At the same time, our expectations for managers have gone up dramatically. We’ve become more aware of the damage done by shoddy managers, and we increasingly expect managers to be empathetic, supportive, as well as deeply technical. All of this has made the job of engineering manager more challenging.

Ambitious engineers had already begun to drift away from management and towards the role of staff or principal engineer. And then came the pandemic, which caused managers (poorly supported, overwhelmed, squeezed between unrealistic expectations on both sides) to flee the profession in droves.

It’s getting harder to find people who are willing to be managers. On the one hand, it is fucking fantastic that people aren’t being driven into management out of greed, rage, or a lust for power. It is WONDERFUL that people are finding engineering roles where they have autonomy, ownership, and career progression, and where they are recognized and rewarded for their contributions.

On the other hand, engineering managers are incredibly important and we need them. Desperately.

Good engineering managers are force multipliers

A team with a good engineering manager will build circles around a team without one. The larger or more complex the org or the product, and the faster you want to move, the more true this is. Everybody understands the emotional component, that it feels nice to have a competent manager you trust. But these aren’t just squishy feels. This shit translates directly into velocity and quality. The biggest obstacles to engineering productivity are not writing lines of code too slowly or not working long hours, they are:

  • Working on the wrong thing
  • Getting bogged down in arguments, or being endlessly indecisive
  • Waiting on other teams to do their work, waiting on code review
  • Ramping new engineers, or trying to support unfamiliar code
  • When people are upset, distracted, or unmotivated
  • Unfinished migrations, migrations in flight, or having to support multiple systems indefinitely
  • When production systems are poorly understood and opaque, quality suffers, and firefighting skyrockets
  • Terrible processes, tools, or calendars that don’t support focus time
  • People who refuse to talk to each other
  • Letting bad hires and chronic underperformers stick around indefinitely

Engineers are responsible for delivering products and outcomes, but managers are responsible for the systems and structural support that enables this to happen.

Managers don’t make all the decisions, but they do ensure the decisions get made. They make sure that workstreams are are staffed and resourced sufficiently, that engineers are trained and improving at their craft. They pay attention to the contracts and commitments you have made with other teams, companies or orgs. They advocate for your needs at all levels of the organization. They connect dots and nudge and suggest ideas or solutions, they connect strategy with execution.

Breaking down a complex business problem into a software project that involves the collaboration of multiple teams, and ensuring that every single contributor has work to do that is challenging and pushes their boundaries while not being overwhelming or impossible… is really fucking hard. Even the best leaders don’t get it right every time.

In systems theory, hierarchy emerges for the benefit of the subsystems. Hierarchy exists to coordinate between the subsystems and help them improve their function; it is how systems create resiliency to unknown stressors. Which means that managers are, in a very real way, the embodiment of the feedback loops and meta loops that a system depends on to align itself and all of its parts around a goal, and for the system itself to improve over time.

For some people, that is motivation enough to try being a manager. But not for all (and that’s okay!!). What are some other reasons for going into management?

Why should you (or anyone) be a manager?

I can think of a few good reasons off the top of my head, like…

  • It gets you closer to how the business operates, and gives you a view into how and why decisions get made that translate eventually into the work you do as an engineer
  • Which makes the work feel more meaningful and less arbitrary, I think. It connects you to the real value you are creating in the world.
  • Many people reach a point where they feel a gravitational pull towards mentorship. It’s almost like a biological imperative to replicate yourself and pass on what you have learned to the next generation.
  • Many people also get to a point where they develop strong convictions about what not to do as a manager. They may feel compelled to use what they’ve learned to build happy teams and propagate better practices through the industry
  • One way to develop a great staff engineer is to take a great senior engineer and put them through 2-3 years of management experience.

But the main reason I would encourage you to try engineering management is a reason that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard someone articulate up front, which is that…it can make you better at life and relationships, in a huge and meaningful way.

Work is always about two things: what you put out into the world, and who you become while doing it.

I want to stop short of proclaiming that “being a manager will make you a better person!” — because skills are skills, and they can be used for good or ill. But it can.

It’s a lot like choosing to become a parent. You don’t decide to have kids because it sounds like a hoot (I hope); you go into it knowing it will be hard work, but meaningful work. It’s a way of processing and passing on the experiences that have shaped you and who you are. You also take up the mantle understanding that this will change you — it changes who you are as a person, and the relationships you have with others.

From the outside, management looks like making decisions and calling the shots. From the inside, management looks more like becoming intimately acquainted with your own limitations and motivations and those of others, plus a lot of systems thinking.

Yes, management absolutely draws on higher-level skills like strategy and planning, writing reviews, mediating conflict, designing org charts, etc. But being a good manager — showing up for other people and supporting them consistently, day after day — rests on a bedrock of some much more foundational skills.

The kind of skills you learn in therapy, not in classes

Self-regulation. Can you take care of yourself consistently — sleep, eat, leave the house, socialize, balance your moods, moderate your impulses? As an engineer, you can run your tank dry on occasion, but as a manager, that’s malpractice. You always need to have fuel left in the tank, because you don’t know when it will be called upon.

Self-awareness. Identifying your feelings in the heat of the moment, unpacking where they came from, and deciding how to act on them. It’s not about clamping down on your feelings and denying you have them. It’s definitely not about making your feelings into other people’s problems, or letting your reactions create even bigger problems for your future self. It’s about acting in ways that are fueled by your authentic emotional responses, but not ruled by them.

Understanding other people. You learn to read people and their reactions, starting with your direct reports. You build up a mental model for what motivates someone, what moves them, what bothers them, and what will be extremely challenging for them. You must develop a complex topographical map of how much you can trust each person’s judgment, on which aspect, in any given situation.

Setting good boundaries. Where is the line between supporting someone, advocating for them, encouraging them, pushing them … but not propping them up at all costs, or taking responsibility for their success? How is the manager/report relationship different from the coworker relationship, or the friend relationship? How do you navigate the times when you have to hold someone accountable because their work is falling short?

Sensitivity to power dynamics. Do people treat you differently as a manager than they did as a peer? Are there things that used to be okay for you to say or do that now come across as inappropriate or coercive? How does interacting with your reports inform the way you interact with your own manager, or how you understand what they say?

Hard conversations. Telling people things that you know they don’t want to hear, or things that will make them feel afraid, angry, or upset; and then sitting with their reactions, resisting the urge to take it all back and make everything okay.

The art of being on the same side. When you’re giving someone feedback, especially constructive feedback, it’s easy to trigger a defensive response. It’s SO easy for people to feel like you are judging them or criticizing them. But the dynamic you want to foster is one where you are both side by side, shoulder to shoulder, facing the same way, working together. You are giving them feedback because you care; feedback that could help them be even better, if they choose to accept it. You are on their side. They always have agency.

Did you learn these skills growing up? I sure as hell did not.

I grew up in a family that was very nice. It was very kind and loving and peaceful, but we did not tell each other hard things. When I went off to college and started dating, I had no idea how to speak up when something bothered me. There were sentences that lingered on the tip of my tongue for years but were never spoken out loud, over the ebb and fall of entire relationships. And if somebody raises their voice to me in anger, to this day, I crumble.

I also came painfully late to developing a so-called growth mindset. This is super common among “smart kids”, who get so used to perfect scores and praise for high achievements that any feedback or critique feels like failure…and failure feels like the end of the world.

It was only after I became a manager that I began to consciously practice skills like giving feedback, or receiving constructive criticism, or initiating hard conversations. I had to. But once I did, I started getting better.

Turns out, work is actually kind of an ideal sandbox for life skills, because the social contract is more explicit. These are structured relationships, with rules and conventions and expectations, and your purpose for coming together is clear: to succeed at business, to finish a project, to pull a paycheck. Even the element of depersonalization can be useful: it’s not you-you, it’s the professional version of you, performing a professional role. The stakes are lower than they would be with your mother, your partner, or your child.

You don’t have to be a manager to build these skills, of course. But it’s a great opportunity to do so! And there are tools — books and classes, mentors and review cycles. You can ask for feedback from others. Growth and development is expected in this role.

People skills are persistent

The last thing I will say is this — technical skills do decay and become obsolete, particularly language fluency, but people skills do not. Once you have built these muscles, you will carry them with you for life. They will enhance your ability to connect with people and build trust, to listen perceptively and communicate clearly, in both personal and professional relationships.

Whatever you decide to do with your life, these skills increase your optionality and make you more effective.

And that is the reason I think you should consider being an engineering manager. Like I said, I’ve never heard someone cite this as their reason for wanting to become a manager. But if you ask managers why they do it five or ten years later, you hear a version of this over and over again.

One cautionary note

As an engineer, you can work for a company whose leadership team you don’t particularly respect, whose product you don’t especially love, or whose goals you aren’t super aligned with, and it can be “okay.” Not terrific, but not terrible.

As a manager, you can’t. Or you shouldn’t. The conflicts will eat you up inside and/or prevent you from doing excellent work.

Your job consists of representing the leadership team and their decisions, pulling people into alignment with the company’s goals, and thinking about how to better achieve the mission. As far as your team goes, you are the face of The Man. If you can’t do that, you can’t do your job. You don’t get to stand apart from the org and throw rocks, e.g. “they told me I have to tell you this, but I don’t agree with it”. That does nothing but undermine your own position and the company’s. If you’re going to be a manager, choose your company wisely.

charity

P.S. My friend (from the start of the article) went back to being an engineer, despite his trepidation, and never regretted it once. His career has been up and to the right ever since; he went on to start a company. The skills he built as a manager were a huge boost to an already stellar career. 📈

 

Becoming An Engineering Manager Can Make You Better At Life And Relationships

Helicopter Management and Other Mistakes

mipsytipsy, , , 4 Comments

You are a freshly minted manager. You come full of rage and frustration at the poor management you’ve endured and witnessed in tech, and you are god damn determined not to repeat all of those mistakes.

You are tired of reporting to a manager who isn’t transparent with you, who hoards critical information and isn’t forthcoming about changes that impact you. You are tired of not being listened to or treated like a cog, so you swear to really listen and take your reports seriously.

You have seen sooooo many managers who failed to develop their people or sponsor them for growth opportunities, who blamed their team and hung them out to dry instead of having their back behind closed doors. Managers who didn’t seem to care about you as people, or who never made it feel safe to say, “I need a mental health day”. Managers who dangled the promise of a promotion, but even though you are doing the work, the recognition never comes.

Fuck that shit. You aren’t going to do ANY of it.

And … you don’t! 🎉

🌸🍃 You make time in your 1x1s to ask about their personal lives and hobbies — you are careful not to pry or be intrusive, just showing that you care. You urge them to take vacation, often. You remind them, firmly, not to be a hero. You model the behavior of taking mental health days to show that not only is it safe, but managers need them too.

🌸🍃 You ask them about their career goals and aspirations. You make it your personal mission to get them promoted, so you frequently check in with them to make sure they’re on the right path. You keep an eye out for things they do that are above and beyond, and for strengths that make them special. They always know you are on their side.

🌸🍃 If you hear about a clash or a conflict between them and another team member, you quickly jump in to figure out what’s going on and make sure it gets resolved, with each person feeling heard before the conflict has time to marinate or fester.

🌸🍃 When reviews comes around, you write warm, passionate essays for each of your direct reports, listing all the things they have done and all the ways they have grown. You go in to manager calibrations fully prepped to advocate for each of your people to get the promotions and rewards they so richly deserve.

🌸🍃 If someone on your team ends up needing more help, whether that’s keeping them productive and on track or helping with prioritization or conflicts… whatever it is, you are there to help turn the situation around. This person was struggling under their old manager, maybe even close to being let go, but under your care they are thriving.

🌸🍃 Nobody ever leaves your team. This is a point of quiet pride for you. People want to transfer to your team, but never from. There may have been a couple close calls, but you are always able to save the day by talking it out with the person and figuring out what they need in order to stay.

🌸🍃 You take pride in your transparency and the democratized ethos of your team, where you collectively determine your priorities and no one feels pressured into doing something they don’t want to do.

Bottom line: you are a GREAT manager.

Right???

After all, your team ranks sky high on every company survey on employee happiness, manager trust, and autonomy and sense of purpose. Your team fucking LOVES YOU. You’re pretty sure they would follow you to your next job, if you left. So maybe you ARE the world’s greatest manager.

Or maybe…you are heavily optimizing for one aspect of the management role, the part where you interface with your direct reports as an ally and coach. You might even be optimizing to the extent that you are neglecting or outright harming other aspects of the job.

Rookie Mistake #1: Only Managing Down

But management means coaching and supporting the people on your team, right? What else is there?

Well.. a lot, actually. Like, the business needs to succeed, for starters. ☺️ And there are a bunch of other relationships that matter besides your own direct reports. A good, strong manager needs to care about:

  • Goals and planning. Managers are generally responsible for crafting a team roadmap out of the impossible mess of company strategy requirements, requests from other teams, product roadmap commitments, and KTLO (keep the lights on) work. Some companies also use OKRs.
  • Right-sizing workloads. There is always at least 10x as much work to be done as cycles to do work, which means estimating how much your team can deliver, planning that work, and dealing with the inevitable surprises that come up during execution. How do you balance urgency vs importance? It is YOUR job to make sure your team isn’t overcommitted.
  • Stakeholder management. Does your team have a reputation for delivering quality work when they say they will, more or less on schedule? Are you a good neighbor to other teams, or do they feel like anything they ask for goes into a black hole? This is largely determined by you.
  • Managing up. Your manager relies on you to provide enough visibility into your team that they can (at minimum) make good decisions where your team is involved, and help head off any problems or conflicts before they escalate.
  • Managing up (another sort) is the relationships you build and impressions you leave with your skip-level and other adjacent leaders. You are your team’s representative and ambassador. Leaders form a view of the org based on scraps of data. For the sake of your team: give good scraps.
  • Managing out horizontally. Building great relationships and a web of mutual support with your peers. Sharing context with each other. Managers are like the nervous system, carrying signal from point to point.
  • Contributing to the organization your team sits in, and its standards, policies, and structural integrity. This is the one most likely to suffer if a manager is laser focused on their own team. This means things like…applying the job ladder fairly and consistently, without playing favorites. Engaging in a dialogue with the ladder rather than bending the rules or making an exception.

As a manager, you have been granted certain formal powers by the org, to be used for the benefit of the org. This means you have a responsibility to care for the organization, and your team within that context.

You shouldn’t be advocating for the benefit of your team members, you have a greater responsibility to the rules and categories of the system, which you collectively maintain and agree upon. The system can’t survive if every manager is gaming the rules on behalf of their team. The system only works if every manager is playing fair.

As a line manager, the work you do interfacing with your team will likely be 50-75% of your time and energy … and impact. But this ratio changes as you go up the org chart. As a VP? Maybe 10-20% of your energy and time can go to your direct reports.

The higher up the ladder you go, the less important your bedside manner becomes and the more important your strategic direction becomes. You are first and foremost responsible for the company’s success, not for your reports’ feelings and career development.

Rookie mistake #2: Helicopter management

If rookie manager mistake number one is thinking that management consists of coaching and interfacing with your team, mistake number two is closely related. Mistake number two is … overmanaging the team, coddling people, and basically never allowing anyone to fail. I think of it as “helicopter managing”.

Helicopter management consists of overly identifying with your team and their needs and wants, instead of taking a step back and considering them in the full context of the organization, or letting them take risks and stand on their own two feet. You’re their manager, not their babysitter.

I have a personal story to illustrate this.

Once upon a time, many years ago, I had a team member who was energetic, highly talented, and a little high strung. I ended up spending a lot of time managing their relationships with other team members, keeping them on track with their projects, and helping them manage their emotional state in general. They nearly left in a dudgeon one time, and I think most managers would have let them go, but I saved the day and they stayed. I was actually really proud of the fact that I had retained them and kept them high-functioning for years. If you asked me, I would have shelved this under my successes, maybe even “proudest manager moments”.

Years later, though, I look back on this situation through very different eyes. Yes, I retained them at the company / on the team, with decent relationships, and they did a lot of good work! But should I have?

At what cost?

Most weeks, I probably spent 50-75% of my total emotional bandwidth on this one person’s needs. For years. Is this the best thing I could have done for the company with all that time and energy? Probably not!

Was this the best thing I could have done for them? I don’t even think it was that either! All that my coddling ultimately did was teach them the wrong lessons, and prevent them from learning the right ones. It delayed those lessons by a few years, and made learning them all the more painful when they finally came.

There are no clear bright lines here. But it’s worth checking in with yourself from time to time, and asking hard questions.

  • You spent all that time coaching and doing a diving save to retain that person …. but should you have? Is this really the best place for them to be at this point in their career?
  • Or let’s say you managed to turn around someone’s performance from failing to succeeding. Great!! But are you confident they are set up to excel, or are they always going to be hovering on the lower bound of acceptable performance? Are you going to be having this same discussion again next quarter?
  • Consider all that time you spent intimately entwined with every detail of every technical project your entire team was working on, reading every PR and design doc. Should you have? Or did you unintentionally deprive them of some agency, while cheating yourself out of time you should have spent becoming a better leader, strengthening your org, or understanding next year’s challenges?
  • Are you giving people only positive feedback? This is a common rookie manager mistake, and it often comes from a place of kindness, or overcompensating for overly negative environments. But you are not only cheating your people of opportunities for growth, you are teaching them that growth is something to be feared and avoided.
  • Or are you cheerleading people so intensely that they come away with a lopsided view of how valuable or advanced their skills are? Are you promoting fast and loose, so they grow to equate promotions with career development? Have you been spoon feeding them growth, or are they developing autonomy over time?

This can be especially unfortunate at higher levels, where autonomy is part of the definition of being a senior+ engineer. You might be stifling them and not allowing them to exercise that agency, or even develop that skill. For senior contributors, autonomy is what they bring. You gotta let them do it.

This shit is challenging. There are no simple answers. The “right” answer is often only obvious in retrospect, months or years later. Everyone needs help sometime, some of us more than others, and that’s okay.

But is it sustainable? What price will you pay?

What I do know is that if you haul someone over the finish line, that is not a success. If you’re going to be having the same hard conversations with them again in one month, three months, six months…that is not success. If they are going to have a rough landing the next time they change teams, that is not success, nor is it in their best interest. And if your team is overly dependent on you, you aren’t actually doing your job.

And honestly? People really WANT to be challenged. They crave it! Or at least the people you want to work with do.

Rookie Mistake #3: Your view of the system is incomplete

I’m only going to touch on this one very briefly; it’s long and complicated, and probably deserves a post of its own.

Systems thinking is a core skill for both managers and engineers. It’s not a skill we are born with; it takes a lot of practice and failure to develop good instincts for debugging complex systems. As an engineering manager, you may have spent 10+ years writing software and learning how computers work, but you have hardly begun to understand how business and organizational systems work.

This explains a lot when it comes to the empathy gap between engineers and management, I believe. 🙃

We spend a lot of time talking about empathy these days — empathy between teams, people, neurotypes; holding space for the fact that nobody is always at their best, etc. Yet engineers can still be incredibly dismissive and judgey towards management actions and organizational decisions.

We see a decision that doesn’t make sense to us, or that we wouldn’t have made, and we write it off as being selfish, uninformed, incompetent, stupid, money-grubbing, bureaucratic, untrustworthy, craven, selling out. Or — maybe worst of all — we shrug and say something cynical about how this kind of thing always happens in business. Or they’re out to get us, or they never listen to us, or it shows how much they don’t give a shit about us..

Far be it to me to excuse corporate venality, or to try and blow smoke up your ass about your leaders’ motives. But in many, many of these situations, this actually represents a failure of systems thinking when it comes to imagining the complex business, corporate, and people systems your leaders are operating in.

When you find yourself thinking things like:

  • “Why am I hearing this feedback so late, in such a roundabout way? Why didn’t they just come to me right away and tell me directly, and I could have fixed it so much sooner!”
  • “Why would they hire someone external to fill that role, instead of promoting the person who has been doing the work just fine in the meantime? Typical exec move; they never see the potential in the people they have, they always want to get someone who has already done the job before.”
  • “Why is our roadmap changing yet again? Why is this getting dropped in our lap? Our director doesn’t seem to know anything about building good software.”
  • “Why didn’t I get invited to that meeting, when it was about MY budget and MY workload? You can’t even get a seat at the table around here unless you have a director title or report to the CEO.”
  • “Why is that person being given ANOTHER chance? If they weren’t a straight white guy, they would have been fired a year ago.”

… or anything else that boils down to “other managers are stupid, hypocritical, or bad at their jobs”, stop yourself, and first try to understand “under what circumstances might their action be a reasonable one, or even the right one?”

Approaching people systems problems with curiosity, empathy, and the full awareness that you may never know the entire story (and there may be good reasons for this!) will make you a better coworker and a much more effective leader.

And if you are working as a manager at a company where you have enough evidence to prove that you cannot, should not take such a generous view of your peers, then maybe don’t. Like, if you have a professional responsibility to represent an organization you can not ethically represent… I would suggest not doing that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ If you can.

Your View of Your Manager Is Incomplete

One of the most challenging things to deal with, in my (limited) experience as an exec, is when you have a manager who is well-liked by their team but fundamentally ineffective in the role, so you have to replace them. Then you are left with a team left feeling bereft and confused, and you can’t just give them a list of all the ways their manager was actually dropping the ball and not doing their job well, because people deserve some privacy and dignity. You pretty much just have to suck it up, and hope that you have enough trust banked for them not to quit.

It’s entirely possible for a manager to be beloved by their entire team, while having a corrosive effect on the system around them. Sometimes it’s their very willingness to bend the system for their people’s benefit that generates that loyalty.

An unwary manager may create a sort of island within the company, where the team does not feel part of — may even feel separate from, superior to, or suspicious of — the broader org or the company. Team members may feel like “this is the only team I would ever want to belong to at this company”, or “my manager is great, they protect us from all the big company bullshit”, or “it’s us against the world”, or “nobody understands us, except our manager”. These are seductive dynamics to slip into because tribalism is so powerful. The more apart you feel from the company, the more tightly you may bond with each other.

I’m not judging you. I was that manager at Parse, to some extent, after the Facebook acquisition. I did not give a shit about the org, I only cared about my team. So…I get it. I still wouldn’t want me as a manager in my org.

What would you do?

The system is what the system does.

Put yourself in your senior leadership’s shoes. What would YOU do if you had to choose between a good, reliable manager who gets the job done for the org and isn’t particularly beloved by their reports (she’s not awful, the team thinks she’s “fine”), vs a manager who is beloved by their reports and cares about their career growth deeply, but is weak at everything else? What will manager #2 cost the rest of the org, and who will bear those costs?

Don’t make your leadership make that choice. Be a manager who is good to your team, and good to the organization too.

Honestly, it is healthy for a manager to not identify too closely with their team. You should stand with them, but a step or two apart. After all, your job is to be pushing or pulling them in a direction, not just standing still and … marinating.

If you identify with them too closely, it can get very hard to tell your reports hard things. You may empathize with them so much that you put their feelings above the need to get shit done. You can be friends with your team, just like parents can be friends with their children, but the friendship doesn’t come first. Your formal role comes first.

On being a new manager who cares a lot

There’s something really beautiful about the energy and dedication that brand new managers bring to the role. Some of the most spectacular results I’ve ever seen for individual team members have come from teams with first time managers, who are determined and idealistic and pouring their whole heart and soul into the people reporting to them. They haven’t yet learned to pace themselves or to be more well-rounded with their time and energy, and sometimes a person can soak up that attention and turn a failing situation around into a thriving one.

I would never tell a manager that they should care less. Caring for people is the beating heart of this job. It doesn’t matter how efficient and effective you are at delivering feedback, managing people out, and planning roadmaps if you don’t truly give a shit about the people you serve. Even as you rise in the ranks and people-interfacing becomes a smaller % of what makes you good at your job, caring is still absolutely essential.

So I hope the message of this post doesn’t come across as “you think you’re a good manager, but here’s why you actually suck”. ☺️ You got into this role because you cared, and this is valuable. Never lose touch with it.

The message is simply that it took me years and years to learn that there is more to being a great manager than caring about my team. I hope you can learn it faster than I did.

 

Helicopter Management and Other Mistakes

Architects, Anti-Patterns, and Organizational Fuckery

mipsytipsy, , , , 12 Comments

I recently wrote a twitter thread on the proper role of architects, or as I put it, tongue-in-cheek-ily, whether or not architect is a “bullshit role”.

It got a LOT of reactions (2.5 weeks later, the thread is still going!!), which I would sort into roughly three camps:

  1. “OMG this resonates; this matches my experiences working with architects SO MUCH”,
  2. “I’m an architect, and you’re not wrong”, and
  3. “I’m an architect and I hate you.”

Some of your responses (in all three categories!) were truly excellent and thought-provoking. THANK YOU — I learned a ton. I figured I should write up a longer, more readable, somewhat less bombastic version of my original thread, featuring some of my favorite responses.

Where I’m Coming From

Just to be clear, I don’t hate architects! Many of the most brilliant engineers I have ever met are architects.

Nor do I categorically believe that architects should not exist, especially after reading all of your replies. I received some interesting and compelling arguments for the architect role at larger enterprises, and I have no reason to believe they are not true.

Also, please note that I personally have never worked at a company with “architect” as a role. I have also never worked anywhere but Silicon Valley, or at any company larger than Facebook. My experiences are far from universal. I know this.

Let me get suuuuuper specific here about what I’m reacting to:

  • When I meet a new “architect”, they tend toward the extremes: either world class and amazing or useless and out of touch, with precious little middle ground.
  • When I am interviewing someone whose last job title was “architect”, they often come from long tenured positions, and their engineering skills are usually very, very rusty. They often have a lot of detailed expertise about how their last company worked, but not a lot of relevant, up-to-date experience.
  • Because of 👆, when I see “architect” on a job ladder, I tend to feel dubious about that org in a way I do not when I see “staff engineer” or “principal engineer” on the ladder.

What I have observed is that the architect role tends to be the locus of a whole mess of antipatterns and organizational fuckery. The role itself can also be one that does not set up the people who hold it for a successful career in the long run, if they are not careful. It can be a one-way street to being obsolete.

I think that a lot of companies are using some of their best, most brilliant senior engineers as glorified project manager/politicians to paper over a huge amount of organizational dysfunction, while bribing them with money and prestige, and that honestly makes me pretty angry. 😡

But title is not destiny. And if you are feeling mad because none of what I’ve written applies to you, then I’m not writing about you! Live long and prosper. 🖖

Architect Anti-patterns and fuckery

There is no one right way to structure your org and configure your titles, any more than there is any one right way to architect your systems and deploy your services. And there is an eternal tension between centralization and specialization, in roles as well as in systems.

Most of the pathologies associated with architects seem to flow from one of two originating causes:

  1. unbundling decision-making authority from responsibility for results, and
  2. design becoming too untethered from execution (the “Frank Gehry” syndrome)

But it’s only when being an architect brings more money and prestige than engineering that these problems really tend to solidify and become entrenched.

Skin In The Game

When that happens, you often run into the same fucking problem with architects and devs as we have traditionally seen with devs and ops. Only instead of “No, I can’t be on call or get woken up, my time is far too valuable, too busy writing important software”, the refrain is, “No, I can’t write software or review code, my time is far too valuable, I’m much too busy telling other people how to do their jobs.”

This is also why I think calling the role “architect” instead of “staff engineer” or “principal engineer” may itself be kind of an anti-pattern. A completely different title implies that it’s a completely different job, when what you really want, at least most of the time, is an engineer performing a slightly different (but substantially overlapping) set of functions as a senior engineer.

My core principle here is simple: only the people responsible for building software systems get to make decisions about how those systems get built. I can opine all I want on your architecture or ours, but if I’m not carrying a pager for you, you should probably just smile politely and move along.

Technical decisions should be ultimately be made by the people who have to live with the consequences. But good architects will listen to those people, and help co-create architectural decisions that take into account local, domain, and enterprise perspectives (a Katy Allred quote).

Architecture is a core engineering skill

When you make architecture “someone else’s problem” and scrap the expectation that it is a core skill, you get weaker engineers and worse systems.

Learning to see the forest as well as the trees, and factor in security, maintainability, data integrity and scale, performance, etc is a *critical* part of growing up as an engineer into senior roles.

The story of QA is relevant here. Once upon a time, every technical company had a QA department to test their code and ensure quality. Software engineers weren’t expected to write tests for their code — that was QA’s job. Eventually we realized that we wrote better software when engineers were held responsible for writing their own tests and testing their own code.

Developers howled and complained: they didn’t have time! they would never get anything built! But it gradually became clear that while it may take more time up front to write and test code, it saved immensely more time and pain in the longer run because the code got so much better and problems got found so much earlier.

It’s not like we got rid of QA  — QA departments still exist, especially in some industries, but they are more like consulting experts. They write test suites and test software, but more importantly they are a resource to make sure that everybody is writing good tests and shipping quality software.

This was long enough ago that most people writing code today probably don’t remember this. (It was mostly before my own time as well.) But you hear echoes of the same arguments today when engineers are complaining about having to be on call for their code, or write instrumentation and operate their code in production.

The point is not that every engineer has to do everything. It’s that there are elements of testing, operations, and architecture that every software engineer needs to know in order to write quality code — in order to not make mistakes that will cost you dearly down the line.

Specialists are not here to do the job for you, they’re to help you do the job better.

“Architect” Done Right

If you must have architects at all, I suggest:

  1. Grow your architects from within. The best high-level thinkers are the ones with a thorough grounding in the context and the particulars.
  2. Be clear about who gets to have opinions vs who gets to make decisions. Having architects who consult, educate, and support is terrific. Having “pigeon architects” who “swoop and poop” — er, make technical decisions for engineers to implement — is a recipe for resentment and weak architectures.
  3. Pay them the same as your staff or principal engineers, not dramatically more. Create an org structure that encourages pendulum swings between (eng, mgr, arch) roles, not one with major barriers in form of pay or level disparities.
  4. Consider adopting one of the following patterns, which do a decent job of evading the two main traps we described above.

If your architects don’t have the technical skills, street cred, or time to spend growing baby engineers into great engineers, or mentoring senior engineers in architecture, they are probably also crappy architects. (another Katy Allred quote)

The “Embedded Architect” (aka Staff+ Engineer)

The most reliable way I know to align architecture and engineering goals is for them to be done by the same team. When one team is responsible for designing, developing, maintaining, and operating a service, you tend to have short, tight, feedback loops that let you ship products and iterate swiftly.

Here is one useful measure of your system’s complexity and the overhead involved in making changes:

“How long does it take you to ship a one-character fix?”

There are many other measures, of course, but this is one of the most important. It gets to the heart of why so many engineers get fed up with working at big companies, where the overhead for change is SO high, and the threshold for having an impact is SO long and laborious.

https://twitter.com/jetpack/status/1633005928399384576

The more teams have to be involved in designing, reviewing, and making changes, the slower you will grind. People seem to accept this as an inevitability of working in large and complex systems far more than I think they should.

Embedding architecture and operations expertise in every engineering team is a good way to show that these are skills and responsibilities we expect every engineer to develop.

This is the model that Facebook had. It is often paired with,

The “Architecture Group” of Practicing Engineers

Every company eventually needs a certain amount of standardization and coordination work. Sometimes this means building out a “Golden Path” of supported software for the organization. Sometimes this looks like a platform engineering team. Sometimes it looks like capacity planning years worth of hardware requirements across hundreds of teams.

I’ve seen this function fulfilled by super-senior engineers who come together informally to discuss upcoming projects at a very high level. I’ve seen it fulfilled by teams that are spun up by leadership to address a specific problem, then spun down again. I’ve seen it fulfilled by guilds and other formal meetings.

These conversations need to happen, absolutely no question about it. The question is whether it’s some people’s full time job, or one of many part-time roles played by your most senior engineers.

I’m more accustomed to the latter. Pro: it keeps the conversations grounded in reality. Con: engineers don’t have a lot of time to spend interfacing with other groups and doing “project management” or “stakeholder management”, which may be a sizable amount of work at some companies.

The “architect-engineer” pendulum

The architect-to-engineer pendulum seems like the only strategy short of embedded architects / shared ownership that seems likely to yield consistently good results, in my opinion.

The reasoning behind this is similar to the reasons for saying that engineering managers should probably spend some time doing hands-on work every few years. You need to be a pretty good engineer before you can be a good engineering manager or a good architect, and 5+ years after doing any hands-on work, you probably aren’t one anymore.

If you’re the type of architect that is part of an engineering team, partly responsible for a product, shipping code for that product, or on call for that product, this may not apply to you. But if you’re the type of architect that spends little if any time debugging/understanding or building the systems you architect, you should probably make a point of swinging back and forth every few years.

The “Time-Share Architect”

This one has aspects of both the “Architecture Working Group” and the “Architect-Engineer Pendulum”. It treats architecture is a job to be done, not a role to be occupied. Thinking of it like a “really extended pager rotation” is an interesting idea.

Somewhat relatedly — at Honeycomb, “lead engineer” is a title attached to a particular project, and refers to a set of actions and responsibilities for that project. It isn’t a title that’s attached to a particular person. Every engineer gets the opportunity to lead projects (if they want to), and everybody gets a break from doing the project management stuff from time to time. The beautiful thing about this is that everybody develops key leadership skills, instead of embodying them in a single person.

The important thing is that someone is performing the coordination activities, but the people building the system have final say on architecture decisions.

The “Advisor Architect”

I honestly have no problem with architects who are not seen as senior to, and do not have opinions overriding those of, the senior engineers who are building and maintaining the system.

Engineers who are making architectural decisions should consult lots of sources and get lots of opinions. If architects provide educated opinions and a high level view of the systems, and the engineers make use of their expertise, well  that’s fan fucking tastic.

If architects are handing them assignments, or overriding their technical decisions and walking off, leaving a mess behind … fuck that shit. That’s the opposite of empowerment and ownership.

The “skin in the game” rule of thumb still holds, though. The less an architect is exposed to the maintenance and operational consequences of decisions, the less sway their opinion should hold with the group. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t bring value. But the limitations of opinions at a distance should be made clear.

The Threat to Architects’ Careers

It’s super flattering to be told you are just too important, your time is too valuable for you to fritter it away on the mundane acts of debugging and reviewing PRs. (I know! It feels great!!!) But I don’t think it serves you well. Not you, or your team, your company, customers, or the tech itself.

And not *every* architect role falls into this trap. But there’s a definite correlation between orgs that stop calling you “engineers” and orgs that encourage (or outright expect) you to stop engineering at that level. In my experience.

But your credibility, your expertise, your moral authority to impose costs on the team are all grounded in your fluency and expertise with this codebase and this production system — and your willingness to shoulder those costs alongside them. (All the baby engineers want to grow up to be a principal engineer like this.)

But if you aren’t grounded in the tech, if you don’t share the burden, your direction is going to be received with some (or a LOT of) cynicism and resentment. Your technical work will also be lower quality.

Furthermore, you’re only hurting yourself in the long run. Some of the most useless people I’ve ever met were engineers who were “promoted” to architect many, many years ago, and have barely touched an editor or production shell since. They can’t get a job anywhere else, certainly not with comparable status or pay, and they know it. 🤒

They may know EVERYTHING about the company where they work, but those aren’t transferable skills. They have become a super highly paid project manager.

And as a result … they often become the single biggest obstacle to progress. They are just plain terrified of being automated out of a job. It is frustrating to work with, and heartbreaking to watch. 💔

Don’t become that sad architect. Be an engineer. Own your own code in production. This is the way.

Coda: On “Solutions Architects”

You might note that I didn’t include solutions architects in this thread. There is absolutely a real and vibrant use for architects who advise. The distinction in my mind is: who has the last word, the engineers or the architect? Good engineering teams will seek advice from all kinds of expert sources, be they managers or architects or vendors.

My complaint is only with “architects” who are perceived to be superior to, and are capable of overruling the judgments of, the engineering team.

Exceptions abound; the title is not the person. My observations do not obviate your existence as a skilled technologist.  You obviously know your own role better than I do. 🙃

charity

Architects, Anti-Patterns, and Organizational Fuckery

The Future of Ops is Platform Engineering

mipsytipsy, , , , , , Leave a comment

First published on 2022-09-30 at https://www.honeycomb.io/blog/future-ops-platform-engineering.

Two years ago I wrote a piece in The New Stack about the Future of Ops Careers. Towards the end, I wrote:

The reality is that jack-of-all-trades systems infrastructure jobs are slowly vanishing: the world doesn’t need thousands of people who can expertly tune postfix, SpamAssassin, and ClamAV—the world has Gmail. (…)

Building infrastructure and operational expertise used to be bundled together into a single role. But the industry is now bifurcating along an infrastructure fault line, and the overlap between infrastructure-oriented engineers and operationally-minded engineers is swiftly eroding. Engineers who love this work increasingly have a choice to make. Either you can 1) go deep on infrastructure by joining a company that does infrastructure as a service, or 2) go broad on operability by joining a company to help them do as little infrastructure as possible.

I described the second category as “operations engineering minus the infrastructure,” dedicated to evaluating and assembling a production stack of third-party platform providers, enabling software engineers to self-serve their services and own their own code in production. I said:

  • Your job will be to aggressively minimize the cycles your org devotes to infrastructure by finding effective ways to outsource or minimize infra labor. Your job is to NOT go deep if there is any workable alternative.
  • Your job will be to work cross-functionally with all the other software engineering teams, looking for ways to speed up their time to value and helping them own their own code in production.
  • Your job will be to move past the kludgey old models of “outsourcing” to sophisticated understandings of how and where to leverage abstractions that can radically accelerate development.

That second category I was describing now has a name. We call those teams “platform engineering.”

The fifty-year arc of software careers

In the beginning, there were people who wrote and ran software. At some point, we spun away ops skills from dev skills into two different professions, but that turned out to be a ginormous mistake, so along came DevOps to reunify them. Nowadays, ops as an independent profession is in the process of fading out. Companies are spinning down their ops teams left and right. Engineers who formerly identified as sysadmins or operations have turned into DevOps engineers, and soon there will just be “software people” again. This is the way of things.

Please note that this is NOT the same thing as saying “ops is dead,” or “ops skills are no longer valuable or needed1.” Our systems are only getting more complex, more difficult to operate, and simultaneously more critical to life on earth, which means that operational excellence has never been more desperately needed (and if you don’t respect that, 🌈 you deserve to suffer 🌈).

The industry story of the past three to five years has been us trying to figure out how to help software engineers own their own code in production2, phasing out dedicated ops teams, and aggressively outsourcing as much infrastructure as possible.

As we should. Developer cycles are the scarcest resource in your company, and you want to spend as many of those as possible on your core product: the crown jewel, the code that makes you a business. Money is cheaper than engineering cycles, and teams that are focused on their core business will always outperform teams whose focus is spread across dozens of non-revenue-generating projects. Let someone else build and run all the dependencies and adjacencies.

Before: some engineers wrote code, and some engineers ran code.

Now: all engineers write code, and all engineers run the code they write.

Platform engineering is what stands between you and darkness

When you start talking about putting software engineers on call for their own code, and generally being more involved in production, some percentage of the time you will hear back a guttural wail of despair: “You can’t expect me to know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING!”

Quite right; we can’t. Platform engineering teams are part of the answer to this perfectly reasonable complaint. It’s not that you’re being asked to do or understand more in toto, but the distribution of labor and responsibility is shifting:

Before: some engineers wrote code, and some engineers ran code.

Now: all engineers write code, and all engineers run the code they write—but we divide the areas of responsibility by layer or function.

The emergence of a minimum viable self-serve tier

In the earliest days of a company, your first few engineers end up bootstrapping an infrastructure by reading AWS docs or blog posts, or asking a friend for recommendations to get started. They might start by setting up a managed container service, or configuring Terraform, and for a while everybody deploys and owns their own code, just as god intended.

But cognitive limits kick in pretty quickly. The maze of APIs and SDKs and components out there is simply bewildering, even for an experienced ops hand. Before long, it becomes someone’s job to make good decisions, pick a suite of compute and storage options that serve the team’s needs, and write some tooling that pulls everything into a coherent whole—which, at a minimum, lets you:

  1. Run tests and generate new artifacts
  2. Deploy artifacts, version them, and roll back
  3. Instrument, monitor, and debug
  4. Store data somewhere, manage schemas and migrations
  5. Adjust capacity as needed
  6. Define and commit all components (and their relationships) as code

Once these are built, it should be trivial for an engineer to come along and spin up a new service using templates and components from existing services. It should be much simpler and easier to use the blessed paths than anything else, and there should be friction if you go off the beaten path.

Congratulations! You’ve just been platformed 🎉. One of the key principles of any developer platform is that it should be easy to do the right things, and hard to do the wrong things.

The differences between platform engineering and traditional ops

Platform teams are typically staffed by engineers who are comfortable writing software. Not just scripting and automation, but writing tests and doing code reviews. Platform teams also operate much more like product development teams do, with product managers (and occasionally, designers, developer advocates, or UX researchers).

This doesn’t mean that everybody on a platform team has to have originally been a software engineer; in fact, a super common failure condition for platform teams is simply thinking all they need to do is hire software engineers to build developer tools. A strong platform team has an equally deep grounding in operations experience and software development. Individuals who are experts in both areas are fairly rare, but you can pull together a strong, well-rounded team by assembling a mix of SWEs (with some ops experience) and ops or DevOps engineers (with some software experience) and having them learn and grow from each other.

Platform teams are decidedly cloud-native; they actually mostly involve platforms built atop the cloud itself—PaaS, IaaS, everything-aaS, serverless, and so forth.

Ops/DevOps teams are oriented around managing infrastructure, often several generations of infrastructure. Their turf is everything from data centers and bare metal up through virtualization, containers, and the cloud (they aren’t so much cloud-native as cloud-enabled). They measure themselves on things like SLOs and the DORA metrics. You know they’re doing a good job if the system is up/available and users are happy.

Platform teams are oriented around providing a good experience for developers to self-serve and self-manage their code. The more swiftly and easily developers can move, the better your platform team. Operational excellence, in the platform model, is actually more the responsibility of the other engineering teams (and/or an adjacent SRE team) than that of the platform team.

Platform teams typically work higher up the stack than operations, DevOps, or SRE teams do, and they involve a great deal less infrastructure. On the contrary, platform teams are bent on paying other people to run as much shit as possible, preserving their own scarce development cycles for their core product.

Here is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek table of the similarities and differences between the archetypes.

Platform engineers vs. DevOps engineers

Platform Engineer Ops (or DevOps) Engineer
% of job spent writing code > 50% < 50%
Rest of time spent Gathering product requirements, doing user research, architecture discussions, optimizing internal workflows, researching new tools and developer productivity ideas, reviewing other teams’ diffs for impact, performance tuning, helping other engineers own & scale their code, fixing CI/CD pipelines. Fixing cron jobs, automating old setup docs, converting PXE/rsync to Chef/Puppet, converting Chef/Puppet to Terraform, converting VMs to containers, deploying software, debugging broken deploys, writing monitoring checks, doing retros, building out new services, pairing with software engineers to understand and debug their code, investigating weird shit, documentation, etc.
Responsible for Enabling internal teams to self-serve their ability to run and own their code in production. Creating standard, reusable components and processes. Defining golden paths. Infrastructure capacity planning, scaling, performance tuning, upgrading. Reliability and resiliency, SLOs and monitoring/alerting. Delivering quality experience to customers.
Builds for Internal developer teams Customers
Development style Infrastructure as a product Infrastructure as code
Works with product managers Yes No
Works with UX researchers or designers Sometimes No
Dashboards & graphs Uses APM, observability, tracing. Cares a lot about instrumentation and OpenTelemetry. Uses metrics, logs, dashboards; monitoring, alerting, and agent/sidecar/blackbox telemetry.
What ‘coding’ means to them Developing new features & services, writing tests. These are (primarily) software people who do systems. Automation, configuration, DSLs, extending and debugging existing code. These are systems people who do software.
Preferred language Go, Rust Python, Ruby
Time spent in Linux Hardly any A lot
Succeeds when Developers can easily choose good defaults, self-serve their infra, and own their own code in production. Infrastructure is scalable, secure, cost-effective, reliable, and customers are happy.
Native terrain Serverless, *aaS, APIs for everything (cloud-native and above). Instances, VMs, containers, regions, multi-cloud (everything “below,” but up to and including the cloud).
Databases Uses hosted DBs Runs their own, blending automation & DBA expertise
SSH No Yes
Shell REPL bash/zsh
Mantra “Run Less Software” “Cattle, Not Pets”

What about DevOps vs. SRE?

Countless words have been spilled on the difference between DevOps and SRE3, which I won’t rehash.

Here’s what I’ll say: DevOps, to me, feels like a relevant concept for companies that have a lot of infrastructure to wrangle. Companies that do in fact have dev teams and ops teams, or dev teams and DevOps teams (🙄), tend to have a lot of operational shit to automate, test, and run. They use config management, virtualization, and containers, often managing several generations worth of technology, possibly even down to data centers and bare metal. DevOps is for companies that have some combination of bare metal, VMs, regions, AZs, multi-cloud, networking devices, self-managed databases, etc.

DevOps is capacious. It contains multitudes. DevOps writes code, and DevOps has a fuckload of code to manage.

It is also on its way to becoming irrelevant. We are swiftly entering a post-DevOps world.

SRE, to me, feels different. I associate SRE with very large companies, where they mostly have software engineers owning their own code in production, but maybe still struggle with it a bit. SREs are often embedded within software engineering teams or product groups, and they focus a lot on, well, reliability, as the name suggests.

This means they do less infrastructure jockeying or automating (although they still do some coding). They typically have a lot to say about instrumentation, monitoring and observability, and cross-functional coordination. They run incident response and do blameless retros, and they tend to be experts at scaling.

If a company has both a DevOps team and SRE, typically I expect to see the SRE team more on the frontlines, involved with incidents, telemetry, etc., and DevOps teams more on the backburner, slinging pipes and plumbing.

Observability engineering as a case study

In the same piece I referenced earlier, I also wrote about the role of observability teams. I said they should largely no longer be running their own monitoring and graphing software in-house. Yet there is still a place for observability teams to exist: they remain a critical link between outsourced solutions and internal developer needs.

That team should write libraries, generate examples, and drive standardization; ushering in consistency, predictability, and usability. They should partner with internal teams to evaluate use cases. They should partner with your vendors as roadmap stakeholders. They might also write glue code and helper modules to connect disparate data sources and create cohesive visualizations. Basically, that team becomes an integration point between your organization and the outsourced work.

I originally wrote this about observability, but it could just as easily be used to describe platform engineering as a whole. This is the role—being the bridge between other vendors and your own core software. It’s a very high-leverage place to sit.

Ops is dead, long live ops

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this because we’ve had such a hard time nailing down exactly who the Honeycomb customer is. Sometimes our buyer is an ops team buying it for their SWEs, sometimes it’s SREs in the midst of an outage, sometimes it’s a VP or director of engineering, or an architect, or a CTO, or a “full stack” engineering team, or even a product manager. It is hard to form a snappy answer out of that list.

The first couple questions every new go-to-market candidate asks us are “who is your buyer?” and “how do we help them?” To which I respond with a five minute ramble where I list every above persona and each of their pain points. Hardly the concrete answer they would like to receive.

As it goes, sociotechnical trends come and go. A year ago, Christine and I were speculating that platform engineering might be on the verge of consolidating the necessary ingredients that makes up our ideal buyer:

  1. Writing and shipping code, and needing to understand their own code
  2. Positioned to help other teams with their instrumentation patterns and tooling
  3. Firmly cloud-native+ and untethered to hardware or traditional infrastructure

To my delight, since that conversation, these trends have only accelerated—and I, for one, welcome our new platform engineering overlords to the observability table. ☺️

If you’d like to learn more about platform engineering, we’ll be running a Twitter space on ✨ October 20th ✨ at 12:00 p.m. PT. Come join us! I’ll be there along with two colleagues and we’ll be answering your questions and shedding more light on the topic.

1  I do hear people saying that, and it used to make me fucking furious, but now I just smugly remind myself how much self-inflicted suffering they are in for. Disrespecting operational expertise is the shortest path to never again sleeping through the night.

2 It is rather incredible how rapidly this idea has taken off. When we started talking about putting developers on call for their code in 2016, people got seriously angry with us. Before that, the only twitter mention I could find of putting devs on call was one by (of course) Adrian Cockcroft, but by 2019-2020 it had stopped being controversial and soon became common wisdom.

3 I actually wrote one of those myself: DevOps vs SRE: Delayed Coverage of the Dumbest War). LMAO. I think Liz had the final word on this back in … 2017? 2018? … when she said something like class SRE implements DevOps. And yes, DevOps is a philosophy or a methodology and not a job title, etc.

The Future of Ops is Platform Engineering

The Hierarchy Is Bullshit (And Bad For Business)

mipsytipsy, , 16 Comments

My friend Molly has had an impressive career. She got a job as a software engineer after graduating from college, and after kicking ass for a year or so she was offered a promotion to management, which she accepted with relish. Molly was smart, driven, and fiercely ambitious, so she swiftly clambered up the ranks to hold director, VP, and other shiny leadership roles. It took two decades, an IPO and a vicious case of burnout before she allowed herself to admit how much she hated her work, and how desperately she envied (guess who??) the software engineers she worked alongside. Turns out, all she ever really wanted to do was write code every day. And now, to her dismay, it felt too late.

Why did it take Molly so long to realize what made her happy? I personally blame the fucking hierarchy.

The Hierarchy Lie

The “Big Lie” of hierarchy is that your organizational structure is a vertical tree from the CEO on down, where higher up is always better.

Of course any new grad is going to feel that way, on the heels of 15-20 years spent going through school year by year, grade by grade, measuring success via good grades and teacher approval. The early years of professional life are a similar blend of hard work, leveling up and basic skills acquisition. (They got Molly hopped on the leveling treadmill before she even had a chance to become a real adult, in other words. 😍)

But by the time you are fully baked as a senior contributor, maybe 7-8 years in, your relationship to levels and ladders should undergo a dramatic shift. At some point you have to learn to tune in to your own inner compass. What draws you in to your work? What fuels your growth and success?

Being an adult means not measuring yourself entirely on other people’s definition of success. Personal growth might come in the guise of a big promotion, but it also might look like a new job, a different role, a swing to management or back, becoming well-known as a subject matter expert, mentoring others, running an affinity group, picking up new skill sets, starting a company, trying your hand at consulting, speaking at conferences, taking a sabbatical, having a family, working part time, etc. No one gets to define that but you.

You have a thirty- or forty-year adult life and career in front of you. What the hell are you going to do with all that time and space??

Your career is not one mad sprint to the finish line

Literally nobody’s career looks like a straight line, going up, up up and to the right, from intern to CEO (to a coffin).

One of the most exhausting things about working at Facebook was the way engineering levels feltLiterally no one's career, ever. like a hamster wheel, where every single quarter you were expected to go go go go go, do more do more, scrape up ever more of your mortal soul to pour in more than you could last quarter — and the quarter before that, and before that, in ever-escalating intensity.

It was fucking exhausting, yo. Life does not work that way. Shit gets hilly.

The strategy for a fulfilling, lifelong career in tech is not to up the ante every interval. Nor is it to amass more and more power over others until you explode. Instead:

  1. Train yourself to love the feeling of constantly learning and pushing your boundaries. Feeling comfortable is the system blinking orange, and it should make you uneasy.
  2. Follow your nose into work that lights you up in the morning, work you can’t stop thinking about. If you’re bored, do something else.
  3. Say yes to opportunities!! Intensity is nothing to be afraid of. Instead of trying to cap your speed or your growth, learn to alternate it with recovery periods.
  4. If you aren’t sure what to do, make the choice that preserves or expands future optionality. Remember: Most startups fail. Will you be okay with your choices if (& when) this one does too?

Why do people climb the ladder? “Because it’s there.” And when they don’t have any other animating goals, the ladder fills a vacuum.

But if you never make the leap from externally-motivated to intrinsically-motivated, this will eventually becomes a serious risk factor for your career. Without an inner compass (and a renewable source of joy), you will struggle to locate and connect with the work that gives your life meaning. You will risk burnout, apathy and a serious lack of fucks given..

The times I have come closest to burnout or flaming out have never been when I was working the hardest, but when I cared the least. Or when I felt the least needed.📈📉💔

A disturbing number of companies would rather feel in control than unclench and perform better

But hey! Lack of inner drive isn’t the ONLY thing that drives people to climb the ladder. Plenty of companies fuck this up too, all on their lonesome. Let’s talk about more of the ways that companies mess up the workplace! Like by disempowering the people doing the work and giving all the power to managers, thereby forcing anyone who wants a say in their own job become one.

The way we talk about work is riddled with hierarchical, authoritarian phrases: “She was my superior”, “My boss made me do it”, “I got promoted into management”, and so on.

There are plenty of industries where line workers are still disempowered cogs and power structures are hierarchical and absolute (like flipping burgers at McDonalds, or factory line work). There are even software companies still trying to make it work in command-and-control mode, to whom engineers are interchangeable monkeys that ship story points and close JIRA tasks.

But if there’s one thing we know, it’s that for industries that are fueled by creativity and innovation, command-and-control leadership is poison. It stifles innovation, it saps initiative, it siphons away creativity and motivation and caring.

Studies also show that the more visible someone’s power is, the less likely anyone is to give them honest feedback.[2]

Companies that don’t learn this lesson are unlikely to win over the long run. Engineering is a deeply creative occupation, and authoritarian environments are toxic for creativity and people’s willingness to share information.

Hierarchy is just a data structure

The basic function of a hierarchy is to help us make sense of the world, simplify information, and make decisions. Hierarchy lets us break down enormous projects — like “let’s build a rocket!”, or “let’s invade the moon!” — into millions of bite size decisions and tasks, and this is how progress gets made.

A certain amount of authority is invested into the hierarchy model. If you are responsible for delivering a unit of work, the company needs to make sure you have enough resources and decision-making ability to do so. This is what we think of as the formal power structure [1], and there is nothing wrong with that. It’s what makes the system work.

The problem starts when we stop thinking of hierarchy as a neutral data structure — a utilitarian device for organizing groups and making decisions — and start projecting all kinds of social status and dominance onto it.

A sensitivity to social dominance is wired deep, deep into our little monkey brains. It’s what tells us we deserve more power, leverage, pride, influence, and autonomy — and simply have more value — than those below us. It’s what tells us those above us are better, stronger and more deserving than we are, and that we owe them our respect and deference.

It also tells us “if you lose status, YOU MIGHT DIE” 😱😱😱 which is why we may react to a perceived loss of status with a sting that seems astonishingly extreme and overwrought, even to ourselves, yet somehow impossible to shrug off.

hierarchies tend to get mixed up with social dominance

In general, it is better to pursue roles and growth based on the affirmative (what it is you want to learn, grow or do more of) than the negative (what you want to avoid, evade or stop doing). Your motivation systems don’t kick in to gear when you are feeling “lack of pain” — the system doesn’t work that way. They kick in when you get interested.

And if you are sick of doing something or being treated a certain way, chances are everyone else will hate it, too. Who wants to work at a company where all the shit rolls downhill?

Hierarchies have stuck around for one very good reason: because they work. Hierarchies are simple, intuitive, and allow large numbers to collaborate with low cognitive overhead. Unfortunately, most hierarchies become entwined with status and dominance markers, which can bring enormous downsides. At their worst, they can suck the literal life out of work, reducing us all to glum little cogs obeying orders.

We aren’t getting rid of hierarchy anytime soon. But we can use culture and ritual to gently untangle them from dominance, and we can choose to interpret formal power as a service function instead of a dictatorship. This frees people up to choose their work based on what makes them feel fulfilled, instead of their perceived status. (Also helpful? Flatter pay bands. 😛)

Good managers do not dictate and demand, they nurture, develop, and inspire. The most important roles in the company aren’t held by managers; they are all the little leaf nodes  busily building the product, supporting users, identifying markets, writing copy, etc. The people doing the work are why we exist as a company; all the rest is, with considerable due respect, overhead.

How to drain your hierarchy of social dominance

When it comes to hierarchy and team structure, there are the functional, organizational aspects (mostly good) and the social dominance parts (mostly bad). With that in mind, there are plenty of smaller things we can do as a team to remind people that we are equal colleagues, simply with different roles.

  • Be conscious of the language you use. Does it reinforce dominance and hierarchy? (Step one: stop calling management “a promotion”🥰)
  • De-emphasize trappings of power. The more you refer to someone’s formal power, the less likely anyone is to give them critical feedback or question them.
  • Push back against common but unhelpful practices, like “a manager should always make more money than the people who report to them.” Really? Why??
  • Are there opportunities for career advancement as an IC, or only as a manager? Everyone should have the ability to advance in their career.
  • Do your own dishes, everyone.
  • Practice visualizing the org chart upside down, where managers and execs support their teams from below rather than topping them from above. (I was going to write a whole post about this, then discovered other people have been doing that for the past decade. 🤣)

And then there is the big(ger) thing we can (and must!) do, in order to 1) make people go into management for the right reasons, 2) help senior IC roles remain attractive to highly skilled creative and technical contributors, and 3) encourage everybody to make career decisions based on curiosity, growth, and what’s best for the business, instead of turf and power grabs. Which is:

Practice transparency, from top to bottom

Share authority, decision-making and power

Technical contributors own technical decisions

Most people who go in to management don’t do it out of a burning desire to write performance reviews. They do it because they are fed the fuck up with being out of the loop, or not having a say in decisions over their own work. All they want is to be in the room where it happens, and management tends to be the only way you get an invite.

EVERY company says they believe in transparency, but hardly any of them are, by my count. Transparency doesn’t mean flooding people with every trivial detail, or freaking them out with constant fire drills. It does mean being actively forthcoming about important questions and matters which are happening or on the horizon…often before you are fully comfortable with it. Honestly, if you never feel any discomfort about your level of transparency, you probably aren’t transparent enough.

People do better work with more context! You’re equipping them with information to better understand the business problems and technical objectives, and thereby unleashing them and their creativity to help solve them. You’re also opening yourself up to questioning and sanity checks — which may feel uncomfortable, but 🌞sunlight is sanitizing🌞 — it is worth it.

Some practical tips for transparency

At Honeycomb, we present the full board deck after every board meeting in our all hands, and take questions. When we’re facing financial uncertainty, we say so, along with our working plan for dealing with it. We also do org-level updates in all hands, once per quarter per org. Each org presents a snapshot to the company of how they are doing, but we ask that no more than 2/3 of the presentation be about their successes and triumphs, and 1/3 of their material be about their failures and misses. Normalize talking about failure.

Being transparent isn’t about putting everyone on blast; it’s about cultivating a habit of awareness about what might be relevant to other people. It’s about building systems of feedback, updates and open questioning into your culture. This can be scary, so it’s also about training yourselves as a team to handle hard news without overreacting or shooting the messenger. If you always tell people what they want to hear, they’ll never trust you. You can’t trust someone’s ‘yes’ until you hear their ‘no’.

Transparency is always a balance between information and distraction, but I think these are healthy internal rules of thumb for management:

  1. If anyone has further questions or wants to know more details than what was shared, they are free to ask any manager or exec, who will willingly answer more fully, up to the boundaries of privacy or legal reasons. As employees, they have a right to know about the business they are part of. A right — not a privilege, which can be revoked on a whim.
  2. When making internal decisions about e.g. salary bands, individual exceptions to formal policy, etc, ask each other … if this decision were to leak, could we justify our reasoning with head held high? If you would feel ashamed, or if you really don’t want people to find out about it, it’s probably the wrong decision.

Some practical tips for distributing power

Power flows to managers by default, just like water flows downhill. Managers have to actively push back on this tendency by explicitly allocating powers and responsibilities to tech leads and engineers. Don’t hoard information, share context generously, and make sure you know when they would want to tap in to a discussion. Your job is not to “shield” them from the rest of the org; your job is to help them determine where they can add outsize value, and include them. Only if they trust you to loop them in will they feel free to go heads down and focus.

Wrap your senior ICs into planning and other leadership activities. Decisions about sociotechnical processes (code reviews, escalation points, SLI/SLOs, ownership etc) are usually better owned by staff+ engineers than anyone on the management track. Invite a couple of your seniormost engineers to join calibrations — they bring a valuable perspective to performance discussions that managers lack.

Demystify management. Blur the lines between people managers and engineers; delegate ownership and accountability for some important projects to ICs. Ask every engineer about their career interests, and if management is on the list, find opportunities for them to practice and improve at managerial skills — mentoring, interviewing, onboarding, etc.

Adults don’t like being told what to do

People do phenomenal work when they want to do it, when they are creatively and emotionally engaged at the level of optimum challenge, and when they know their work matters. That’s where you’ll find your state of flow. That is where you’ll do your best work, which is also the best way to get promoted and make durable advances in your career.

Not, ironically, by chasing levels and titles for their own sake. ☺️

People want to be challenged. They want you to ask them to step up and take responsibility for something hard. They want to be needed, and they want to have agency in the doing of it. Just like you do.

Oh yeah, back to Molly …

Molly, who I mentioned at the beginning, joined Honeycomb five years ago as a customer success exec. After realizing she wanted to go back to engineering, she switched to working our support desk to build up her technical chops while she practiced writing code on the side. She has now been working as a software engineer on the product team for over two years, and she is ✨rocking it.✨ It is NEVER too late. 🙌

<3 charity

p.s. Molly also says, “don’t waste time at bad companies, whether you’re climbing the ladder or not!” 🥂

 

[1] Formal power is only one kind of power, and in some ways it is the weakest, because it doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to the company and is only loaned out for you to wield on its behalf. (You don’t carry the innate ability to fire people along with you after you stop being an engineering manager, for example.) Formal powers are limited, enumerated, and functional. You don’t get to use them for any reason other than furthering the goals of the org, or else it is literally an abuse of power.

Formal power is fascinating in another way, too: which is that your formal power is seen as legitimate only if you ~basically always wield it in the ways everyone already expects you to. You can make a surprising call only so often; you can straight up overrule the wishes of your constituents extremely rarely. If you use your formal power to do things that people disagree with or don’t support, without taking the time to persuade them or create real consensus, you will squander your credibility and good faith unbelievably fast.

[2] I am not going to bother rustling up lots of links and citations, because I expect most of this falls into the voluminous category of “shit you already knew”. But if any of it sounds surprising to you, here are some classic reference works:

Flow, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
Drive, by Dan Pink
The Culture Code: Secrets of Successful Groups, by Daniel Coyle
A Lapsed Anarchist’s Guide to Being a Better Leader, by Ari Weinzweig

[3] The scientific literature suggests that dominating instincts tend to emerge in more overtly hostile environments. Make of that what you will, I guess.

 

Some other writing I have done on this topic, or topics adjacent …

The Engineer/Manager Pendulum
The Pendulum or the Ladder
If Management Isn’t a Promotion, then Engineering isn’t a Demotion
Twin Anxieties of the Engineer Manager Pendulum
Things to Know About Engineering Levels
Advice for Engineering Managers who want to Climb the Ladder
On Engineers and Influence
Is There a Path Back from CTO to Engineer?

The Hierarchy Is Bullshit (And Bad For Business)

Giving Good Feedback: Consider the Ratio

mipsytipsy, , , , 2 Comments

Consider the ratio.

You work with someone great. If someone asked, you’d say they are brilliant, inspired and dedicated. They care deeply about their work, they are timely and reliable (for the most part), and their emojis and dry sense of humor brighten your day. Your work depends on theirs, and you are working together on a neat project which is generating lots of excitement at demo days. You would miss them terribly if they left.

But today you are annoyed. They either didn’t hear or forgot your feedback from the last design review, which means you have to redo some components you thought were finished. It’s a considerable amount of work, and this isn’t the first (or second) time, either. You want to tell them so and try to debug this so it doesn’t keep happening.

So far, so good. Giving feedback like this can be hard, especially if they are senior to you. But do they understand the totality of how you see them? Or was the last time they heard from you the last time they fucked up? Out of the last ten times you gave them feedback, how many were complaining or asking for changes? Does that feedback ratio accurately represent your perception of their value?

This doesn’t mean you have to run around saying “you’re amazing!” all the time, but do be mindful of how other people think you perceive them. I can pretty much guarantee that none of the people you love working with realize just how much you value them, but they are acutely aware of all the ways they fall short or fail you. Here are some ways to correct that imbalance a bit

  • Don’t be vague. Do be specific. If you just run around saying “You’re awesome!” to people, they will tune you out. Do try to notice and reflect some of the things that making working with them a joy. Like, “I learned so much about mysql indexes pairing with you today, thank you”, or “Last week in our practice session you suggested approaching it this way, and it was so helpful in my situation”, or “I really admire the way you can talk extemporaneously about $topic, and I LOVE knowing I can rely on you with zero prep”. This is harder, and it absolutely takes more work on your part, but it lands. And sticks.
  • Use the Situation, Behavior, Impact framework…but for praise. The SBI framework is designed for delivering hard feedback, but it works just as well for delivering kudos. Use it to give great praise that isn’t generic and does let people know what they’re doing right/what they mean to you. “In the last team meeting, your overview of the messaging framework was super eye-opening for me. I learned more than ever before about not just our pyramid, but how messaging frameworks in general are used. I understand its impact on my role better now than I have in seven years of product marketing!”
  • Ground critique in your overall reaction. Let’s say someone just presented an idea that you think is super interesting and potentially very high value, but you have questions about its impact on marginalized groups. Do they know you think it is interesting and high value, when you launch into your critique? No they do not. If all they hear is several rounds of criticism, they may very well give up and cancel altogether, thinking everyone hated it. Something as simple as starting with “I LOVE this idea. Have you thought about —”, or “This is really interesting, but I’m curious…” can be enough to convey a less discouraging, more accurate sense of your perspective.
  • Don’t hold out for the “wow” moments. Sometimes even sharing what you see as a neutral description of someone’s work can be mind-blowing and affirming. Most people don’t realize how much they are just noticed, full stop. It is flattering to be noticed or have the things you said remembered. Being seen can be enough. (h/t @eanakashima)
  • Don’t contribute to a pile-on. Feedback is asymmetric — you can only give feedback as one person at a time (you!), but the recipient might be grappling with negative feedback from many, many people. In that context, anything critical you say is likely to feel like one more rock in a public stoning. Or (somewhat less dramatically), if someone asks for feedback and receives a wave of criticism, they may feel deflated and defeated and drop the entire idea. If that isn’t the outcome you want, try to bring some positive balance to the discussion instead of piling on.
  • Give feedback to grow on. Pure positivity can sound cloying and be easy to discount. If you’re just praising me, I’m learning nothing from it. We’re not talking about a shit sandwich here, but the best compliments are the ones you learn something from. “That was GREAT. It might be even better if…” Relatedly, some people find it hard to believe purely positive feedback, but if you give feedback that shows you understand their work and what they did less well, you gain credibility and they will believe the praise. (h/t @inert_wall).

Hard conversations and corrective feedback are absolutely necessary at times. But even poorly-delivered critiques can be dealt with in the context of a good relationship, when the person knows how much you value them, and even the most delicately delivered criticism can be hard to hear from someone when all you ever seem to hear from them is how much you suck.

Engineers can be the worst at this, because we tend to show our interest by eagerly engaging with an idea or piece of work … by picking it apart, and chattering about all the ways it could be better. 🙃 I generally think this is an awesome way to show love, but we could stand to be clearer about the affection part, and not let the perfect be the enemy of the good. So please consider the ratio of critique vs affirmation when giving feedback.

And there’s no reason to save all the nice words and praise and gratitude for someone’s funeral (or when they leave the company ☺️).

Giving Good Feedback: Consider the Ratio

Advice for Engineering Managers Who Want to Climb the Ladder

mipsytipsy, , , 13 Comments

We have been interviewing and hiring a pile of engineering directors at Honeycomb lately. In so doing, I’ve had some fascinating conversations with engineering managers who have been trying unsuccessfully to make the leap to director.

Here is a roundup of some of the ideas and advice I shared with them, and the original twitter thread that spawned this post.

What is an engineering director?

Given all the title inflation and general inconsistency out there, it seems worth describing what I have in mind when I say or hear “Engineering Director.”

In a traditional org chart, an engineering manager usually manages about 5-8 engineers, an engineering director manages 2-5 engineering managers, and a VP of engineering manages the directors. (At big companies, you may see managers and directors reporting to other managers and directors, and/or you may find a bunch of ‘title padding’ roles like Senior Manager, Senior Director etc.)

In smaller companies, it’s common to have a “Head of Engineering” (this is an appropriately weaselly title that commands just the right amount of respect while leaving plenty of space to hire additional people below or above them). Or all of engineering might roll up to a director or VP or CTO. It varies a lot.

When it comes to the work a director is expected to do, though, there’s a fair bit of consistency: we expect managers to manage ICs, and directors to manage managers.  Directors sit between the line managers and the strategic leadership roles. (More on this later.)

So if you’re an engineering manager, and you want to try being a director, the first thing you’ll want to understand is this: it is generally better to get there by being promoted than by getting offered a director title at a different company.

How to level up

Lots of engineers get tapped by their management to become managers, but not many become directors without a conversation and some intentional growth first. This means that for many of you, trying to become a director may be the first time you have ever consciously solicited a role outside the interview process. This can bring up feelings of awkwardness, even shamefulness or inappropriateness. You’ll just have to push through those.

If you ever want a job in upper leadership, you are going to have to learn how to shamelessly state your career goals. We want people in senior leadership who want to be there and are honing their skills in anticipation of an opportunity. Not “oops, I accidentally a VP.”

It is better to get promoted than hired up a level

There are a few reasons for this. It’s usually easier to get promoted than to get hired straight into a job you’ve never held before (at a org with high standards), and it also tends to be more sustainable/more likely to succeed if you get promoted in as well. Being a director is NOT just being a super-duper manager, it’s a different role and function entirely.

A lot of your ability to be successful as a director (or any kind of manager) comes from knowing the landscape, the product and the people, and having good relationships internally. When you are internally promoted, you already know the company and the people, so you get a leg up towards being successful. Whereas if you’ve just joined the company and are trying to learn the tech, the people, the relationships, and how the company works all at once, on top of trying to perform a new role for the first time.. well, that is a lot to take on at once.

There are exceptions, sure! Oodles of them[1]. But I would frankly look sideways at a place that wanted to hire me as a director if I haven’t been one, or hadn’t at least managed managers before. It’s at least a yellow flag. It tells me they are probably either a) very desperate or b) very sloppy with handing out titles.

If you want a promotion…

The obvious first step involves asking your manager, “what is the skill gap for me between the job I am doing right now and a director role?” Unlike in the movies, promotions don’t usually get surprise-dropped on people’s heads; people are usually cultivated for them. Registering your interest makes it more likely they will consider you, or help you develop skills in that direction as time moves on.

If you have a good manager who believes in you, and the opportunities exist at your company, that might even be all you have to do.(!)

And if so, lucky you. But as for the remaining ~80-90% of us (ha!) … well, we’ll need a bit more hustle.

Take inventory of your opportunities

Lots of companies aren’t large enough to need directors, or growing fast enough to create new opportunities. This can actually be the most challenging part of the equation, because there are generally a lot more managers who want to be directors than there are available openings.

If you do need to find a new job to reach your career goals, I would target fast-growing companies with at least 100 engineers. If you’re evaluating prospective employers based on your chance of advancement, consider the following::

  • Ask about their policies on internal vs external hires. Do they give preference to existing employees? How do they decide when to recruit vs grow from within?
  • Ask about the last time that someone was promoted into a similar role.
  • Tell the recruiter and hiring manager about your career goals. Don’t be shy. “My next career goal is to gain some experience managing managers” is fine. (That shouldn’t be the only reason you’re interested, of course.)
  • Size up the playing field. Is there oxygen at that level? Or are there a dozen other managers senior to you lined up for the same shot?

There are no sure bets. But you can do a lot to put yourself in the right place at the right time, signal your interest, and be prepared for the opportunity when it strikes.

a director is not a ‘super-senior manager’

A director is not just a manager on steroids: it is an entirely different job. It helps to have been a good manager before becoming a director, because many management skills will translate, but others will be entirely new to you. Expect this.

How being a good director is different from being a good manager

Let’s look at some of the ways that being a good engineering manager is different than being a good director.

  1. You can be a great EM, beloved by your team, without giving much thought to managing out or up. Directors cannot. If anything, it’s the opposite. You may get away with not coddling your EMs, but you must pull your weight for your peers and upper management.
  2. You can have a bit of a reputation for being stubborn or difficult as an EM, and that can be just fine. But having such a rep will probably sabotage your attempt at being promoted to director.
  3. You can be a powerful technical EM who sometimes jumps in to train engineers, be on call, or course correct technical and architectural decisions. This can even burnish your value and reputation as an EM. But this would all be a solid knock against you as a director.

Managers can get away with being opinionated and attached to technology, to some extent, while directors absolutely must balance lots of different stakeholders to achieve healthy business outcomes.

This difference of perspective is why managers will sometimes sniff about directors having sold out, or being “all about politics.”

(Blaming something on “politics” is usually a way of accidentally confessing that you don’t actually understand the constraints someone is operating under, IMO.)

A director’s job is running the business

Here’s the key fact: ✨directors run the business✨.

Managers should be focused on high-performing engineering teams. VPs should be focused on strategy and the longer term. Directors are the execution machines that knit technology with business objectives. (I like this piece, although the lede is a little buried. Key graf:)

managers, directors, VPs

Directors run the business. They are accountable for results. You can’t be bopping in and writing or reviewing code, or tossing off technical opinions. That’s not your job anymore.

Managing managers is a whole new skill set

The distance between managing engineers and managing managers is nearly as vast as the gulf between being an engineer and being a manager.

But it’s sneakier, because you don’t feel out of your depth as much as you did when you became a manager. 😁

As a manager, each of us instinctively draws on our own unique blend of strength and charisma — whatever it is that makes people look up to you and willing to accept your influence. Most of us can’t explain how we do it, because we run on instinct.

But as a director, you have to figure it out. Because you need to be able to debug it when the magic breaks down. You need to help your managers influence and lead using *their* unique strengths. What works for you won’t work for them. You have to learn how to unpack different leadership styles and support them in the way they need.

If you’re working towards a director role:

There are lots of areas where you can improve your director skills and increase your chances of being viewed as director material without any help whatsoever from your manager.

You ✨can not✨ be a blocker

Directors run the business … so you CANNOT be seen as a blocker. People must come to you of their own accord to get shit done and break through the blockers.

If they are going to other people for advice on how to break through YOU, you are not a good candidate for director. Figure out how to fix this before you do anything else.

Demonstrate impact beyond your team(s)

Another way to make yourself an attractive prospect for director is to work on systemic problems, driving impact at the org or company level. You could:

  • work to substantially increase the diversity of your teams or your candidate pipeline, and offer to work with recruiting and other managers to help them do the same (becoming BFFs with recruiting is often a canny move)
  • drive some cross-platform initiative to consolidate dozens of snowflake deploy processes and significantly reduce CI/CD build/deploy times, set an internal SLO for artifact build times, or successfully champion auto-deployment
  • champion an internal tools team with a mandate to increase developer productivity, and quantify the hell out of it
  • lead a revamp of the new hire onboarding process. Or add training and structure to the interview process and set an SLO of responding to every candidate within one week

I dunno — it all depends on what’s broken at your company. 🙃 Identify something causing widespread pain and frustration at the organizational level and fix it. 

Managing ‘up’ is not a ‘nice-to-have’…

If there’s a problem, make sure you are the one to bring it to your manager (and swiftly), along with “Here is the context, here’s where I went wrong, and this is what I’m planning to do about it.” No surprises.

At this point in your career, you should have mastered the art of not being a giant pain in the ass to your manager. Nobody wants a high-maintenance director. Do you reliably make problems go away, or do they boomerang back five times worse after you “fix” them?

…Neither is managing ‘out’

Managing “out” is important too. (Not “managing out”, which means terminating people from the company, but managing “out” as in horizontally, meaning your relationship with your peers.)

What do your peers think of you? Do you invest in those relationships? Do they see you as an ally and a source of wise counsel, or a source of chaos, gossip and instability, or a competitor with turf to protect? If you’re the manager that other managers seek out for a peer check, you might be a good candidate for director.

psst.. People are watching you

One of the most uncomfortable things to internalize if you climb the ladder is how much people will make snap judgments about you based on the tiniest fragments of information about you, and how those judgments may forever color the way they think of you or interact with you.

First impressions might be made by ten minutes together on the same zoom call…a few overheard fragments of people talking about you…even the expressions on your face as they pass you in the hallway. People will extrapolate a lot from a very little, and changing their impression of you later is hard work.

(Yes it’s frustrating, but you can’t really get upset about it, because you and I do it too. It’s part of being human. )

Because of that, you really do have to guard against being too cranky, too tired, or out of spoons. People WILL take it personally. It WILL come back to hurt you.

Remember, you don’t hear most feedback. If you visibly disagree with someone, assume 10x as many silently agree with them. If one person gives you a piece of hard feedback, assume 10x as many will never tell you. Be grateful. The more power you are perceived to have, the less feedback you will ever hear.

Pro tip

You can infer a surprising amount about how good a director candidate may be at their job, simply by listening closely to how they talk about their colleagues. Do they complain about being misunderstood or mistreated, do they minimize the difficulty or quality of others’ work, do they humblebrag, or do they take full responsibility for outcomes? And does their empathy fully extend to their peers in other departments, like sales and marketing?

Does it sound like they enjoy their work, and look forward to beginning it every day? Does it sound like they are all in the same little tugboat, all pulling in the same direction, or is there a baseline disconnect and lack of trust?

In conclusion…

Be approachable, be a drama dampener, project warmth. Control your calendar and carve out regular focus time. Guard your energy — never run your engine under 30%, and always leave something in the tank.

There are a lot more great responses and advice in the replies to my thread, btw. Go check them out if you’re interested.. and if you have something to say, contribute!.☺️

charity

Footnotes:

[1] Occasionally, it may work out to your benefit to jump into a new, higher title at a new company. This can happen when someone is already well qualified for the higher role, but is finding it difficult to get promoted (possibly due to insufficient opportunity or systemic biases). Just be aware that the job you were hired into is likely to be one where the titles are meaningless and/or the roles are chaotic. You may want to stay just long enough to get the title, then bounce to a healthier org.

Advice for Engineering Managers Who Want to Climb the Ladder

Twin Anxieties of the Engineer/Manager Pendulum

mipsytipsy, , , , , 7 Comments

I have written a lot about the pendulum swing between engineering and management, so I often hear from people who are angsting about the transition.

A quick recap of the relevant posts:

There are two anxieties I hear people express above all the rest.

The first one is something I hear over and over again, particularly from first-time managers as they contemplate the possibility of leaving management and returning to IC (individual contributor) work as an engineer:

“What if I never get another shot at people management?”
“Maybe this is the only chance I’ll ever get … and I’m about to give it up??”
“Am I going to regret this?”

“Will I ever get another shot at management?”

People decide to go back to engineering for lots of reasons. Maybe they’re burned out, or they work someplace with a poisonous management culture, or they’re having a kid and want to return to a role that feels more comfortable for a while. Or maybe they’ve been managing teams for a few years now, and have decided it’s time to go back to the well and refresh their technical skills in the interest of their long-term employability.

Regardless, these are not typically people who disliked being a manager. Rather they tend to be engineers who really enjoyed people management, and find it bittersweet to give up. Maybe they will miss the strategic elements and roadmap work, but they’re excited to clear their calendar and spend time in flow again, or they will miss having 1x1s but can’t wait to have time to mentor people. Whatever. They want to manage teams again someday, and worry they won’t get another chance.

Their anxiety is understandable! Lots of people feel like they waited a long time to be tapped for management, or like they were passed over again and again. Our cultural scripts about management definitely contribute to this sense of scarcity and diminution of agency (i.e. that management is a promotion, it is bestowed on you by your “superiors” as a reward for your performance, and it is pushy or improper to openly seek the role for yourself).

This anxiety is also, in my experience, ridiculously misplaced. ☺️

Once a manager, marked for life as a manager

You may have struggled to get your first opportunity to manage a team. But it’s a whole different story once you’ve done the job. Now you have the skills and the experience, and people can smell it on you.

I’m not joking. If you’re a good manager it’s actually nearly impossible to hide that you have the skills, because of the way it infuses your work and everything that you do as an IC. You get better at prioritization, more attuned to the needs of the business, and restless about work that doesn’t materially move the business forward. You get better at asking questions about why things need to be done and at communicating with stakeholders. You get better at motivating the people you work with, understanding their motivations and your own, and mediating conflicts or putting a damper on drama between peers. People come to you for advice and may seem to just do what you say, or go where you point.

Senior engineers with management experience are worth their weight in gold. They are valuable contributors and influential teammates. It’s a palpable shift! And every experienced manager in their vicinity will sense it.

So yes, you will be tapped for management again. And again and again and again. You are more likely to spend the rest of your career fending off management “opportunities” with a baseball bat than you are to wither away, pining for another shot.

There is a chronic shortage of good engineering managers, just like there is a chronic shortage of good, empathetic managers in every line of work. The challenge you will face from now on will not be about getting the chance to manage a team, but about being intentional and firm in carving out the time you need to recover and recharge your skills as an engineer.

“Am I too rusty to go back to engineering?”

The second anxiety is in some ways a mirror of the first:

“Can I still perform as an engineer?”
“Will anyone hire me for an engineering role?”
“Has it been too long, am I too rusty, will I be able to pull my weight?”

This is a more materially valid concern than the first one, in my opinion. Your engineering skills do wither and erode as time goes on. It will take longer and longer to refresh your skills the longer you go without using them. Management skills don’t decay in the same way that technical ones do, nor do they go out of date every few years as languages, frameworks and technologies tend to do.

If you aren’t interested in climbing the ladder and becoming a director or VP — or rather, if you aren’t actively, successfully climbing the ladder — you should have a strategy for keeping your hands-on skills sharp, because your ability to be a strong line manager is grounded in your own engineering skills.

Never, ever accept a managerial role until you are already solidly senior as an engineer. To me this means at least seven years or more writing and shipping code; definitely, absolutely no less than five. It may feel like a compliment when someone offers you the job of manager — hell, take the compliment 🙃 — but they are not doing you any favors when it comes to your career or your ability to be effective.

When you accept your first manager job, I think you should make a commitment to yourself to stick it out for two years. That’s how long it takes to rewire your instincts and synapses, to learn enough that you can tell whether you’re doing a good job or not.

After two or three years of management, it’s still pretty easy to go back to engineering. After five years, it gets progressively harder. But it can be done. And it should be worth it to your employer to invest in keeping you while you refresh your skills over the six months or whatever it may take. Insist on it, if you must. It’s better to refresh your skills while employed, on a system and codebase you’re familiar with, than to find yourself struggling to brush up enough to pass a coding interview.

Engineering fluency == job security

There is one more reason to refresh your engineering skills from time to time, one I don’t often see mentioned, and that is job security and optionality.

The higher you go up the ladder, the more money you will get paid…but the fewer jobs there be, and the fewer still that match your profile.

As a senior software engineer, there are fifteen bajillion job openings for you. Everyone wants to hire you. You can get a new job in a matter of days, no matter how picky you want to be about location, flexibility, technologies, product types, whatever. You’ve reached Peak Hire.

If you are looking for management roles, there will be an order of magnitude fewer opportunities (and more idiosyncratic hiring criteria), but still plenty for the most part. But for every step up the ladder you go, the opportunities drop by another order of magnitude, and the scrutiny becomes much more intense and particular. If you’re looking for VP roles, it may take months to find a place you want to work at, and then they might not choose you. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Maintaining your technical chops is a stellar way to hedge against uncertainties and maintain your optionality.

 

Twin Anxieties of the Engineer/Manager Pendulum

Know your “One Job”, continued

mipsytipsy, , , , , 4 Comments

Holy macaroni batman, I was not expecting that post to ignite a shitstorm. It felt like a pretty straightforward observation: you were hired to do a job, you should do your best to do that job.

Interestingly, the response was almost universally positive for the first 8 hours or so. But then the tide began to turn as the 🔥hot takes🔥 began rolling in (oh god 🙈) and then began pingponging off each other, competing for and amplifying each other’s outrage. 😕You Had One Job | Know Your Meme

When something touches a nerve like this, it swiftly becomes less about your actual words and more of a public event, or maybe a Teachable Moment. (🤮) Everybody has to weigh in with their commentary, and while it’s not super fun to be on the receiving end, I have mostly learned to distinguish the general pile-on from the few engaging in bad faith. I just keep telling myself that public discourse is how we create shared consensus and shift the Overton window and industry norms. So that’s all fair game, it’s done in good faith and it’s the price of change. I can take a few days of shitty twitter mentions for the team, lol.

The one comment that did worm under my skin was a woman who said she believed my post would give an abusive former boss ammo to use against people like her in the future. And that, more than all the hatertomatoade, is why I wrote this epic followup.

Two responses i’d like to foreground

First, I’d like to link to something Terra said about the importance of ERGs for marginalized workers, especially during times of duress.

Thanks Terra, I stand corrected — I can totally see how that work counts as part of one’s core job, and managers should understand this and define it as such.

I still don’t think it means you promote someone purely on the basis of that work; I don’t see how you can promote someone up an engineering ladder until they can fulfill the technical FAIL Nation - ocd - Vintage FAILs of the Epic Variety - Cheezburgerrequirements of the next level. It could certainly mean expanding the core requirements of your role to include your ERG labor, though perhaps not replacing the technical work entirely (over the long term).

This goes both ways, fwiw. Nobody should be promoted without doing their fair share of the emotional labor and glue work it takes to keep the company going. A successful career in sociotechnical systems means leveling up your social repertoire as well as your technical skills. Your job descriptions and levels must reflect this, spelling out both the social and the technical requirements at each level.

🔥🔥🔥Tip of the Day🔥🔥🔥

If you want to know what your company REALLY cares about, take a management gig for a while and listen closely to the debates over whether or not to promote someone to the post-senior levels, and why or why not. You are LITERALLY witnessing as your organization decides, over and over, what it values the most, what it wants to reward, whose footsteps they want you to follow in, and where to spend its scarcest, most inelastic resource: staff and principal engineering titles. Fascinating shit.

Secondly, please go and read Shelby’s excellent thread, written from the perspective of someone who has been “Susan” for a number of reasons.

https://twitter.com/shelbyspees/status/1368705471532568581

 

These situations are complicated, and managers should always, always try to listen and understand the subtleties of each unique situation before coming to some mutual understanding with their team member about what the core responsibilities of the job are. Jobs are living documents, and it doesn’t hurt to revisit them and clarify from time to time. <3

Objection: “Nobody has Just One Job”

Completely true. I was trying to be funny by referring to the “You had one job!” meme. I apologize. Yes, everybody has a basket of responsibilities. I DO think that a well-written job description and clarification on the priorities of the job is a good thing, and will go a long way towards helping you figure out how to spend your time and how to not get burned out.

Also: am I prone to hyperbole? Yes ma’am, sweeping statements are LITERALLY ALL I DO. (Sorry ☺️)

FTR, I don’t think your core responsibilities should be overwhelming, and there should be plenty of time in your normal 40 hour work week to devote to so-called electives and extracurriculars. I’ve said many times that I don’t believe anyone has more than four hours a day of real, focused, challenging engineering labor in them. So maybe 15-20 hours/week of moving the business forward in your areas of ownership?

Everyone should have cycles free for participating in the “squishy” parts of work. It’s an important part of taking a group of random individuals and connecting them with meaning and a sense of mission. That isn’t HR’s job, or the managers or execs’ jobs, that is everyone’s job, the more the better. Everyone should have flexibility, autonomy, and variety in their schedule, and should feel supported in using work hours to support their peers. Nothing I am saying contradicts any of that. But sometimes something’s gotta give, and usually your core responsbilities are not what you want to sacrifice.

Objection: “Interviewing isn’t optional”

Sure. But you weren’t hired to interview. It’s just part of the basket of secondary responsibilities that come along with being a member of the team. If you’re an engineer, you likely weren’t hired to write blog posts or mentor folks — unless you were! were you?? — which makes them similarly in the bucket marked “valuable, but secondary”. Honestly it could be on purpose though, it could just be words in another language. - Imgflip

We aren’t talking about “steady state”, we’re talking about what to do when you aren’t able to fulfill the core functions of your job. This should be a temporary state of emergency, not the status quo. When you’re overwhelmed, it’s totally normal to ask to be excused from the interviewing rotation for a quarter or so, or any of your other secondary responsibilities.

Objection: “How dare you not promote someone who is getting good peer reviews”

I said she was getting some compliments and rave reviews. If you’re getting compliments from HR, marketing, and other people sprinkled across the company, but you aren’t delivering for your own team; if you’re holding back core initiatives for your closest peers, then you aren’t doing your work in the right order.

I’ve seen this happen when an engineer’s public persona becomes more important to them than their actual work. When they get hooked on the public adulation of giving talks and writing posts and going to conferences, meanwhile their output at work drops off a cliff. This isn’t fair to your coworkers. Maybe you don’t want to do this job anymore, maybe you want a job where your core responsibilities are writing and speaking. I don’t know. All I know is that if I’m the manager of that team, my responsibility and loyalty is to the well-functioning of that team, so we need to have a conversation and clarify what’s happening.

Again, all I am saying is that your commitments to your immediate team come first. Not following through affects way more than just you.

Objection: “You are hating on / devaluing glue work”

I really wish I had thought to link to Tanya Reilly’s invaluable material on glue work in my original post, but I didn’t connect those dots, sadly. Yes, it can be hard for engineering managers to recognize or reward glue work, and yes, glue work is an invaluable form of technical leadership. I don’t have a lot to say about this other than I completely agree, and it is not what I am talking about.

Objection: “All these extra-curriculars should count towards promotions”

Well, yes! Duh! I am all for promoting people not based on raw individual coding output, but on overall impact. People who perform a lot of glue work are invaluable to any high functioning team, and people who run internal ERGs, do lots of DEI work, etc — that SHOULD factor into promotions. In my original post I said that sadly, when someone isn’t performing the key parts of their job, you don’t get credit for these wonderful positives — they are not enough on their own (unless of course you have an understanding with your manager that your core responsibilities have changed), and can even be evidence of time mismanagement or an inability to prioritize.

you had one job Keep trying - Paranoia meme | Make a MemeI cannot honestly understand why this is controversial. If you were hired as a database engineer, and you spent the year doing mostly DEI work, how does it make sense to promote you to the next level as a database engineer? That’s not setting you up for success at the next level at ALL. If this was agreed upon by you and your manager, I can see giving you glowing reviews for the period of time spent on DEI work, as long as your dbeng responsibilities were gracefully handed off to someone else (and not just dropped), but not promoting you for it.

However, if you ARE competently performing your core responsibilities as a database engineer, and are performing them at the next level, then all your additional work for the company — on DEI, ERGs, mentoring, interviewing, etc — adds up to a MASSIVELY compelling body of work, and a powerful argument for promotion. It certainly ought to be enough to push you over the edge if you are on the bubble for the next level..

Objection: “You hate DEI work and demean those who do it”

It does not make me anti-DEI work to point out that you were hired to do a certain job, first and foremost. If you want your first-and-foremost job to be DEI work, that’s great! Go get that job! If you want your first-and-foremost job to be engineering, but then not do that job, I … guess I just fail to see how this is a logically defensible position.

As someone else put it: “Your One Job is the cake, the rest is the icing”.//TODO citation You can often negotiate a job that has a LOT of icing — but you should negotiate, no surprises. DEI work is absolutely valuable to companies, because having a diverse workforce is a competitive advantage and increasingly a hiring advantage. But that work isn’t typically budgeted under engineering, it comes from G&A

I can also understand why you might want to keep the (unfortunately higher) engineering salary and the (unfortunately higher) social status you have with an engineering role, even if engineering no longer feeds your soul the way doing diversity work does. I know people in this situation, and it’s tricky. 😕 There is no single right or wrong answer, just a question of whether you can find an employer who is willing to pay for that configuration. But I should think clarity and straightforwardness is more important than ever when your heart’s desire is unconventional.

Objection: “You’re letting managers off the hook. This is entirely a management failure.”

You might be right. This is often a consequence of negligent, unclear, or biased management. But not always. I’ve also seen it happen — close up — with engaged, empathetic, highly skilled You Only Had One Job on Twitter: "Whoever wrote this, probably never saw a sign like this when he/she was a kid #youonlyhadonejob #youonlyhad1job https://t.co/BGLHCWwtGo"managers who were good at setting structure and boundaries, deeply encouraging, gave tons of chances and great constant feedback, tried every which way to make it work … and the employee just wasn’t interested. They volunteered for every social committee and followed every butterfly that fluttered by. They just weren’t into the work.

YES, managers should be keeping close tabs on their reports and giving constant feedback. YES, it’s on the manager to make sure the role is clearly defined.

YES, managers should be clear with employees on what the promotion path is, and YES, no review should ever be a surprise.

YES, if people all over the org are heaping requests or responsibilities on the Susans of the world, it can be difficult to prioritize and it is not fair to expect them to juggle those requests, the manager should help to shelter them from it. Yes yes yes. We are all on the same page.You had one job! – inkbiotic

But I am writing this post, not to managers, but to engineers, people like me, who are confused about why they aren’t getting promoted and others are. I am writing this post because good managers are in scarce supply, and I don’t want your career to be on hold until you happen to get a good one. I am trying to provide a peek behind the curtain into something that frustrates managers and holds a lot of people back, so that you can take matters into your own hand and try to fix it. If your manager hasn’t been clear with you on what your core job is, they suck and I’m sorry.

Is any of this your fault? Maybe, maybe not. But it is something you have some control over. You can at least open the conversation and ask for some clarity.

You shouldn’t HAVE to do their job for them. But why let a shitty manager hurt your career any more than you must?.

Objection: “This is a gendered thing. ‘Steven’ would have been promoted for this, while ‘Susan’ gets scolded.”

110 You had one job.. ideas | you had one job, one job, jobA surprising number of people thought I was writing this as advice specifically to and for women, and got mad about that. Nope, sorry. It was not a gendered thing at all. I’ve seen this happen pretty much equally with men and women. I had planned on writing three or four anecdotes, using multiple fake names and genders, but the first one turned out long so I stopped.

Confession: I put zero thought into constructing a realistic or plausible list of activities “Susan” has at work. This came back to bite me. A LOT of people were doing a super close read of the situation (e.g. “She’s on three ERGs, so she must be a queer woman of color, which means she’s probably the most senior person at the company along all three dimensions of marginalization…”) — which, AUGH — this isn’t real, y’all —

✨This is Not A Real Situation✨.

— it was MADE UP! Totally! I just listed off the first several things that came to mind that people do at work that aren’t things they specifically got hired to do. That’s it.

I rather regret this. I should have put more time and thought into constructing a scenario Image tagged in you had one job,road stripes,timmy - Imgflipthat was less easy to nitpick. But I didn’t want anyone to see themselves in it, so I didn’t want it to be too recognizable or realistic. I just wanted a placeholder for “Person who does lots of great stuff at work”, and that’s how you got Susan.

TLDR — yep, Susan probably has a tougher go of this than Steven. I would argue that Steven generally wouldn’t be promoted either if he wasn’t adequately performing his core responsibilities, but who knows. This isn’t a real person or scenario. Women and nonbinary folks have it tougher than men. Your point? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Objection: “Why do you hate collaboration” and “This doesn’t apply to me because my job isn’t just writing code”

I never meant to imply that your “One Job” was only work you could do heads down on your own. Lots of people’s jobs involve a ton of force multiplying, mentorship, reviewing, writing The best you had one job memes :) Memedroidproposals… typical glue work. If you have a manager that thinks you are only doing your One Job when you are heads down writing code with your headphones on, that’s a Really Bad Manager.

The more senior your role is, the more your One Job involves less “write feature X” and more “use your judgment to help fine tune our sociotechnical systems”. This is natural and good.

It is also MORE of an argument for making sure you are in alignment with others in your org about what is the most important thing for your time and energy to be spent on, not less of one. Communication and persuasion are what upper levels are all about, right?

Objection: // Placeholder

I reserve the right to add to this list of objections after I go catch up on twitter, lol.

In conclusion

Finally, I want to call out a perceptive comment by @codefolio, where he said this:

Ouch. Truth.

This speaks to something I should probably be more explicit about, which is that my writing and my advice generally assumes you are operating in a high-trust environment. That’s the kind of environment I have been tremendously fortunate to operate in for most of my career — an environment where people are flawed but compassionate, skilled, and doing their best for each other, with comparatively low levels of assholery, sociopaths, and other bad actors. If your situation is very unlike mine, I can understand why my advice could seem blinkered, naive, and even harmful. Please use your own judgment.

I only write because I want the best for you — even those of you who very openly and vocally despise me (and yes, there are quite a few of you. Start a club or something). 🥰

All said and done, about 95% of the people who replied said that my post was helpful and clarifying for them, about 3% had very interesting critical takes that I got something valuable from, and only 2% were hurling rotten tomatoes and reading and interpreting my words in ways that felt wildly detached from reality. I try to remember that, when I get discouraged and feel like the whole world hates me and wants me to shut up. 🍅🍅🍅

I am not everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s alright. 💜 My advice is not relevant or helpful to anyone, and that’s okay too. Hopefully I have cleared up enough of the misunderstandings that anyone who is reading my words in good faith now has a clear picture of what I was trying to say. And hopefully it’s helpful to some of you.

PSA: I will be your rubber ducky advice buddy🐥❤️🐣

I have posted this on twitter a few times, but if you are struggling with a career conundrum, sociotechnical growing pains, or management issue, I am generally happy to hop on a phone call over the weekend and talk through it with you. I have benefited SO much from the time and energy of others in the tech industry, it’s nice to give back. (I like giving advice and I think VERY highly of my own opinions, so this also counts as fun for me 😂)

I 💜 talking to women and enbies and queers.🌈 (I love talking to guys too, but if my calendar starts filling up I will rate-limit y’all first to leave space at the front of the line.) If you are a white dude who hasn’t been following me on twitter for at least a year, this offer is not for you, sorry. If you’re a marginalized person in tech, otoh, I don’t care if you use that hellsite^W^Wtwitter or not. And if you hate my blog, you are not gonna like me any better live & unfiltered. 😬

🍃🌸🌼Sign up here🌼🌺🍃
(please read the instructions!)

Things I am generally well-equipped to discuss include startups, observability, databases, leveling and promotion issues, management, the pendulum, senior and staff levels, new manager issues, team dynamics, startup executive teams, and some complex workplace You Had One Job and You So Failed ~ 27 pics | Team Jimmy Joe | Building fails, Construction fails, Architecture failssituations.

Things I am not equipped to help with include how to improve diversity at your company, how to get women to want to work for you, or why only men are applying for your jobs online. I cannot be your personal DEI coach or guide to women in the workplace (there are great consultants out there doing the lord’s work, and you should give them all your money). I can’t find you a new job, help newbies find their first job (sorry 😕), give advice on raising venture money or tell you how to found a company (answer: never found a company, it’s the literal worst). In general I am not very well equipped to discuss early career issues, but if you’re an URM and you’re desperate i’ll give it a shot. I am not a therapist. And if you’re going to ask should you quit your job, I will save you a phone call: yes.

charity.

Know your “One Job”, continued

Know your “One Job” and do it first

mipsytipsy, , , , 13 Comments

Story time.

Susan was hired as a database engineer. Her primary projects, which are supposed to be upgrading/rolling out a major point release and running load tests against various config options and developing a schema management tool, keep slipping. But she is one of HR’s favorite people because she is always available to interview, even at short notice, and gives brilliant, in-depth feedback on candidates.

Susan also runs three employee resource groups, mentors other women in tech both internally and external to the company, and spends a lot of time recruiting candidates to come work here. She never turns down a request to speak at a meetup or conference, and frequently writes blog posts, too. She is extremely responsive on chat, and answers all the questions her coworkers have when they pop into the team slack. Susan has a high profile in the community and her peer reviews are always sprinkled lavishly with compliments and rave reviews from cross-functional coworkers across the company.

Lately, Susan has been getting increasingly exasperated about her level. She is a senior engineer, but the impact of her work is felt all across the company, and many of the things she does are described in higher level brackets. Why doesn’t her manager seem to recognize and acknowledge this?

Actually, Susan’s manager is absolutely right not to promote her. Susan isn’t adequately performing the functions of her job as a database engineer, which is the “One Job” she was hired to do, and which her teammates are all relying on her to do in a timely and high-quality manner.

When someone isn’t meeting the basic expectations for their core responsibilities, it doesn’t matter how many other wonderful things they are doing. In fact, those things can become strikes against them. Why is Susan available for every interview at the drop of a hat? Why is she agreeing to speak at so many meetups and conferences, if she can’t find the time to perform her core responsibilities? Why doesn’t she silence Slack so she can focus for a while? These things that should be wonderful positives are transformed instead into damning evidence of personal time mismanagement or an inability to prioritize.

When you are meeting expectations for your One Job — and you don’t necessarily have to be dazzling, just competent and predictable  — then picking up other work is a sign of initiative and investment. But when you aren’t, you get no credit.

This may sound obvious, but I have seen everyone from super junior to super senior fall into this trap — including myself, at times. When you get overwhelmed, all of your commitments can start to feel like they are of equal weight. But they are not. “You had One Job”, as the kids say, and it comes first.

Extracurriculars can feel like obligations, yet these are qualitatively different from the obligation you have to your core job. If you did only your core responsibilities and none of the extras, your job should not be in any danger. But if you don’t do the core parts, no matter how many extras you do, eventually your job probably will be in danger. Explain to your coworkers that you need to hit the pause button on electives; they’ll understand. They should respect your maturity and foresight.

If you’re feeling underwater, scrutinize what’s on your plate. Which are the parts you were hired to do? the parts that are no one else’s job but yours? Focus on those first. If you need more time, cut down or hit pause on the electives until you’re comfortably on top of things again.

Do you have too many core responsibilities? Those should never add up to 40+ hours of work every week. Everyone needs some flex and variety in their schedule.

If you are having a terrible time summoning the motivation to do the work you were hired to do, or if this is a recurring theme in your life, then maybe you are in the wrong role. Maybe you really want to find a role as a developer advocate instead of a software engineer. Maybe you just aren’t into the work anymore (if you’ve been there a while), or maybe you don’t know how to get started (if you’re new). Maybe it’s even as simple as mentioning it to your manager and reshuffling your responsibilities a bit. But don’t assume the problem will solve itself.

Take these feelings seriously. All of us need to buck up and plow through some work we don’t find engaging from time to time. But it shouldn’t be the norm. In the long run, you’ll be happier and more successful if you are truly engaged by the work you were hired to do, not just by the extracurriculars.

charity.

Know your “One Job” and do it first