In the drive to derive value from each customer, we are forgetting that our goal as entrepreneurs is to solve problems for life, not for the first $10.
At some point in every software development project the question of velocity vs. quality inevitably comes up. The idea being that cutting some corners will allow you to move faster and get to your goal sooner.
This is a topic I have wrestled with over the years and have come to believe that the argument itself is a dangerous false dichotomy, and that reframing the discussion can lead to both a better product and a faster moving team.
the goal of commercial software development isn’t to create code you love—it’s to create products your customers will love.
We firmly believe that it isn’t enough to code something which works, according to a functional spec. It has to work well for the people who have to use it, day by day. Those people will be marketing managers, writers and journalists – not developers.
Influence lives at intersections. Yet, as an industry, it at times feels the boundaries we have built around who makes an effective product manager, or programmer, or designer, are stronger than ever, even as the need to cross those boundaries is ever more pressing.
Do we need to continue to assume that social media content needs to be forever? I’m curious as to what happens to identity if social media emphasizes less enduring recordings and instead something more temporary. It would be identity less concerned with itself as a constant “artifact”, a less nostalgic understanding of the present as a potential future past and instead an identity a bit more of the present, for the present.
But unlike walking, where there really is a developmentally appropriate age to learn to do it, the idea that there is a “right” time to learn to code (or most anything else) is a construct — a creation of our own determination to hold ourselves back.
I’ve long felt that having bad metrics is often worse than having no metrics at all.
I grabbed the “Learning Python” book and walked straight home.
This time, I wasn’t excited; I was terrified.
If I didn’t learn to code, we were done. I would have to crawl back into the world of finance. I’d have to tell all my friends and family that I had given up, that I had completely failed.