Popularity is not quality, and quality depends on the audience and your own value system, not internet randos.
One of the signs that you're writing really great or really bad is if people ignore it. You're not popular so if it's really good nobody cares, and if it's really bad? Well, it's bad.
The problem comes when you write a really good essay that's just a point or two less than perfect. It's flawed enough to gain readers. It's insightful enough to help people. But guess what? Now you're in a popularity war with all the other bozos who want to create content around your topic.
That's why the greatest compliment you can receive is "Well, heck, that's been done before. There's nothing new here."
Everything has been done before. Don't sweat it. I am reminded of a great scene from the TV show Third Rock From The Sun where John Lithgow's character accuses another professor of plagiarism. His line is roughly "It's obviously shabby and repeats things done before. Take a look at the text. (he then holds up a book) Have you ever heard of the _Dictionary_??"
Write for yourself. Use writing to learn stuff. Done.
I just finished my third run through the series. There have been a lot of movies and shows about how tech "grew up" in the 80s and 90s, but this one feels closest to home for me. It was an incredible time to live through. Everybody was trying all kinds of stuff, fundamental stuff not stuff around the edges, and nobody knew what would hit and what wouldn't. Some kid in East Minnesota had the same shot as some guy in Stanford. There was very much a Wild West feel to it.
With apologies for going all old-guy, today it seems that whatever you do, you end up in some walled garden along a pre-programmed path. Can you write an independent iOS app without spending a lot of time screwing around with Apple? I don't know. It does not look like a worthwhile thing to spend my time on.
Everything you do today, it's like you automatically end up on some set of train tracks somebody else has made. Maybe they let your train run, maybe not. Maybe they like what you're doing and let your train run like the wind so that they can copy it all.
HCF reminded me that there was a time before all of this. Good memories.
Agentic coding may be an even bigger change, and it might kick off a new time like that. Too soon to tell. I sure hope so. I can't help but notice there are a lotta folks looking to get their hooks into the system.
I'm about ten years ahead of the author. I felt this a long time before AI arrived. I went from solving problems for people to everything I tried to ending up in an endless grind of yak-shaving.
I worked my way through it, though. It made me both give up programming, at least in the commercial sense, and appreciate the journey he and I have gone through. It's truly an amazing time to be alive.
Now, however, I'm feeling sucked back into the vortex. I'm excited about solving problems in a way I haven't been in a long time. I was just telling somebody that I spent 4-6 hours last night watching Claude code. I watched TV. I scratched my butt. I played HexaCrush. All the time it was just chugging along, solving a problem in code that I have wanted to solve for a decade or more. I told him that it wasn't watching the code go by. That would be too easy to do. It was paying attention to what Claude was doing and _feeling that pain_. OMG, I would see it hit a wall, I would recognize the wall, and then it'd just keep chugging along until it fixed it. It was the kind of thing that didn't have damned thing to do with the problem but would have held me up for hours. Instead, I watched Pitt with my wife. Every now I then I'd see a prompt, pop up, and guide/direct/orchestrate/consult/? with Claude.
It ain't coding. But, frankly, coding ain't coding. It hasn't been in a long, long time.
If a lot of your job seems like senseless bullshit, I'm sad to say you're on the way out. If it doesn't, stick around.
I view AI as an extinction level threat. That hasn't changed, mainly because of how humans are using it. It has nothing to do with the tech. But I'm a bit perplexed now as to what to do with my new-found superpowers. I feel like that kid on the first Spiderman movie. The world is amazing. I've got half-a-dozen projects I'm doing right now. I'm publishing my own daily newspaper, just for me to read, and dang if it's not pretty good! No matter how this plays out, it is truly an amazing time to be alive, and old codgers like us have had a hella ride.
One, "like a family" is a process, not an atomic label. It's not something you can just stick anywhere. Families are dynamic and a lot of work, frankly. Humans are messy.
Two, even if the label meant something, it doesn't mean the same thing to each person that uses it. Sounds like some of these folks are jerks. This might be because of an idea of what family means that's much darker than other people's. Also there are a lot of jerks in the world. The writer doesn't seem to like a lot of people they work with either. That's all fine and well. Families choose many times to disengage and only be together during certain special events. The question is whether or not these kinds of families are what the slogan means. Who knows? Sounds more like a crutch used by management than a real concept that everybody can grok.
Three, the author is playing right along. It looks to me like they're doing this passive-aggressive thing where the actively don't want to be like whatever this "family" label means to others at work and they also don't want to spend time with those folks. That's what they should say, to others. You just don't flip around a vague slogan and get something more useful. By translating it into the already vague "family" moniker, they're cheating themselves out of the opportunity to grow. "I don't like you people. You make me work too much, you're a bunch of assholes and I'm leaving." is a painful thing to say, and I'd wait until I have another job to say it, but rephrasing it as "I don't want to be like a family..." is just couching it in the same bullshit everybody is using. If you want to be that way, fine, just realize that you're doing the same thing as you feel is being done to you, i.e. using vague language to dodge difficult conversations.
Too often we confuse analysis with design, then the heartaches start. Some problem domain things are immutable, some are not, some change over a fixed range, some are firm but expected to change, etc. All that stuff is critical to know as part of analysis.
I'd argue that you can do analysis incrementally right along with everything else. Reports sound like a great starting point. I agree with your advice, even the part about the pendulum swinging too far the other way. The problem is that, honestly, we suck no matter which way the pendulum swings. We continue to confuse the process with the goals.
I get what you're saying, that by moving to the meta level we can talk about heuristics and patterns of development.
Unfortunately, and I apologize for sounding difficult, this is still far too broad to gain traction on.
I think the thing to remember when you're learning various architectures, from database schemas to build pipelines, is that many times the people teaching you are teaching you from a position of having a completed project and then looking back on the lessons learned and applying some heuristic-making to them.
For instance, if you look at database normalization, which I started with when I started coding, it makes total sense for a small-ish project. Back in the day, you controlled the app, the machine, the storage, and the code. You owned it all. So changes to the schema involved a finite and easyish-to-do set of practices.
This started falling apart really quickly, though, with folks talking about impedance mismatch just a few years after relational databases went mainstream. If I had to generalize, everything got more and more complicated and the assumption that you could grab the entire application in your head easily and change it was no longer true. Then came a ton of CASE tools, now ORMs, and so forth, all in an effort to get us back to easily owning and changing data schemas.
But the real problem was there all along we just didn't realize it: thinking you knew everything and could manage it. This idea worked great in classrooms, worked great in personal and small apps. It even worked great in larger apps with tight control. But at the level of complexity we have now, it just doesn't seem realistic to be teaching people the perfect way to do things. (Of course, they should be aware of them!). Instead, what's needed is how to gradually get from here-to-there in a complex world without getting lost. So the heuristics you'd get would be perfect world completed apps, and what you really need to know is, well, how to develop software. That kind of advice ain't happening in an HN thread.
Hope that made some sense. Ping me offline if I can help explain any more.
A schema is a way of designing data structures such that they are efficiently organized and easy to use.
But that leaves the obvious question: use for what?
Structures, whether it's databases or object graphs, exist for only two reasons: to do stuff and to fit into a pattern of rules you've decided to use beforehand. Without either of those, there is no way to judge a schema. We could talk about generally organizing data. That's set theory and normal forms. But that wasn't your question.
I would design the schema for a three-microservice widely-distributed high-performance application far differently than I would a local checkbook app for my brother. You gotta have more information.
Something I've noticed now that we're all communicating online in written form: a lack of people saying "I don't know"
It seems that everybody knows everything. Whatever the issue, a little bit of Googling and suddenly you know all there is to know. Even more wondrous, no matter what position you take on anything, some more search engine Kung Fu and you can find a hundred people willing to support you with arguments, surveys, facts -- whatever you need.
Everybody knows everything. It's quite amazing. And then when you take a tech team into an unknown domain, suddenly they find it very difficult to open up, admit ignorance, and reason about things.
I am reminded of some startup book or blog I read years ago. It was talking about the relationship between intelligence and startup success. The author said that there was a correlation. It was an inverse correlation. The more you have been rewarded in life for being smart and knowing everything, the more you felt intelligent, the less chance you had of making a startup work. You just weren't able to admit all the things you didn't know.
I posted a comment on a friend-of-friend's feed. He posted some Bertrand Russell quote and I took issue with the phraseology but generally agreed with the sentiment.
When I clicked the "post" button, Facebook gave me some warning message along the lines of "are you sure you want to be posting this? If you post bad things you could be banned from commenting"
I found this fairly insulting. I think Facebook has finally found the thing that's going to drive me completely away from their system.
One of the signs that you're writing really great or really bad is if people ignore it. You're not popular so if it's really good nobody cares, and if it's really bad? Well, it's bad.
The problem comes when you write a really good essay that's just a point or two less than perfect. It's flawed enough to gain readers. It's insightful enough to help people. But guess what? Now you're in a popularity war with all the other bozos who want to create content around your topic.
That's why the greatest compliment you can receive is "Well, heck, that's been done before. There's nothing new here."
Everything has been done before. Don't sweat it. I am reminded of a great scene from the TV show Third Rock From The Sun where John Lithgow's character accuses another professor of plagiarism. His line is roughly "It's obviously shabby and repeats things done before. Take a look at the text. (he then holds up a book) Have you ever heard of the _Dictionary_??"
Write for yourself. Use writing to learn stuff. Done.
ADD: Here's the scene I was referring to. John Lithgow had far, far too much fun chewing up the furniture on that series. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIN4tC5Zwx0