rowid,title,contents,year,author,author_slug,published,url,topic 297,Public Speaking with a Buddy,"My book Demystifying Public Speaking focuses on the variety of fears we each have about giving a talk. From presenting to a client, to leading a team standup, to standing on a conference stage, there are lots of things we can do to prepare ourselves for the spotlight and reduce those fears. Though it didn’t make it into the final draft, I wanted to highlight how helpful it can be to share that public speaking spotlight with another person, or a few more people. If you have fears about not knowing the answer to a question, fumbling your words, or making a mistake in the spotlight, then buddying up may be for you! To some, adding more people to a presentation sounds like a recipe for on-stage disaster. To others, having a friendly face nearby—a partner who can step in if you fumble—is incredibly reassuring. As design director Yesenia Perez-Cruz writes, “While public speaking is a deeply personal activity, you don’t have to go it alone. Nothing has helped my speaking career more than turning it into a group effort.” Co-presenting can level up a talk in two ways: an additional brain and presentation skill set can improve the content of the talk itself, and you may feel safer with the on-stage safety net of your buddy. For example, when I started giving lengthy workshops about building mobile device labs with my co-worker Destiny Montague, we brought different experience to the table. I was able to talk about the user experience of our lab, and the importance of testing across different screen sizes. Destiny spoke about the hardware aspects of the lab, like power consumption and networking. Our audience benefitted from the spectrum of insight we included in the talk. Moreover, Destiny and I kept each other energized and engaging while teaching our audience, having way more fun onstage. Partnering up alleviated the risk (and fear!) of fumbling; where one person makes a mistake, the other person is right there to help. Buddy presentations can be helpful if you fear saying “I don’t know” to a question, as there are other people around you who will be able to help answer it from the stage. By partnering with someone whom I trust and respect, and whose work and knowledge augments my own, it made the experience—and the presentation!—significantly better. Co-presenting won’t work if you don’t trust the person you’re onstage with, or if you don’t have good chemistry working together. It might also not work if there’s an imbalance of responsibilities, both in preparing the talk and giving it. Read on for how to make partner talks work to your advantage! Trustworthiness If you want to explore co-presenting, make sure that your presentation partner is trustworthy and can carry their weight; it can be stressful if you find yourself trying to meet deadlines and prepare well and your partner isn’t being helpful. We’re all about reducing the fears and stress levels surrounding being in that spotlight onstage; make sure that the person you’re relying on isn’t making the process harder. Before you start working together, sketch out the breakdown of work and timeline you’re each committing to. Have a conversation about your preferred work style so you each have a concrete understanding of the best ways to communicate (in what medium, and how often) and how to check in on each other’s progress without micromanaging or worrying about radio silence. Ask your buddy how they prefer to receive feedback, and give them your own feedback preferences, so neither of you are surprised or offended when someone’s work style or deliverable needs to be tweaked. This should be a partnership in which you both feel supported; it’s healthy to set all these expectations up front, and create a space in which you can each tweak things as the work progresses. Talk flow and responsibilities There are a few different ways to organize the structure of your talk with multiple presenters. Start by thinking about the breakdown of the talk content—are there discrete parts you and the other presenters can own or deliver? Or does it feel more appropriate to deliver the entirety of the content together? If you’re finding that you can break down the content into discrete chunks, figure out who should own which pieces, and what ownership means. Will you develop the content together but have only one person present the information? Or will one person research and prepare each content section in addition to delivering it solo onstage? Rehearse how handoffs will go between sections so it feels natural, rather than stilted. I like breaking a presentation into “chapters” when I’m passionate about particular aspects of a topic and can speak on those, but know that there are other aspects to be shared and there’s someone else who can handle (and enjoy!) talking about them. When Destiny and I rehearsed our “chapter” handoffs, we developed little jingles that we’d both sing together onstage; it indicated to the audience that it was a planned transition in the content, and tied our independent work together into a partnership. .embed-container { position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%; height: 0; overflow: hidden; max-width: 100%; } .embed-container iframe, .embed-container object, .embed-container embed { position: absolute; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; } Alternatively, you can give the presentation in a way that’s close to having a rehearsed conversation, rather than independently presenting discrete parts of the talk. In this case, you’ll both be sharing the spotlight at the same time, throughout the duration of the talk. Preparation is key, here, to make sure that you each understand what needs to be communicated, and you have a sense of who will be taking responsibility for communicating those different pieces of information. A poorly-prepared talk like this will look like the co-presenters are talking over each other, or hesitating awkwardly to give the other person more room to speak; the audience will feel how uncomfortable this is, and will probably be distracted from the talk content. Practice the talk the whole way through multiple times so you know what each person is planning on covering and how you want to interact with each other while you’re both holding microphones; also figure out how you’ll be standing in relation to each other. More on that next! Sharing the stage If you choose to give a talk with a partner, determine ahead of time how you’ll stand (or sit). For example, if you each take “chapters” or major sections of the presentation, ensure that it’s clear who the audience should focus their attention on. You could sit in a chair off to the side (or stand). I recommend placing yourself far enough away that you’re not distracting to the audience; you don’t want them watching you while your partner is speaking. If the audience can still see you, but their focus should be on your buddy, be sure to not look distracted; keep your eyes on your buddy, and don’t just open your laptop and ignore what’s happening! Feel free to smile, laugh, or react how the audience should be reacting as your partner is speaking. If you’re both sharing the spotlight at the same time and having a rehearsed conversation, make sure that your body language engages the audience and you’re not just speaking to each other, ignoring the folks watching. Watch this talk with Guy Podjarny and Assaf Hefetz who have partnered up to talk about security; they have clearly identified roles onstage, and remain engaged with the audience. Consider whether or not you will share a microphone, or if you will both be mic’d. (Be sure that the event organizer, or the A/V team, has a heads-up well in advance to ensure they have the equipment handy!) Also talk through how you’d like to handle Q&A time during or after the talk, especially if you have clear “chapters” where Q&A might happen naturally during a handoff. The more clarity you and your partner have about who is responsible for which pieces of information sharing, the more you can feel and appear prepared. Co-presenting does take a lot of preparation and requires a ton of communication between you and your partner. But the rewards can be awesome: double the brains onstage to help answer questions and communicate information, and a friendly face to help comfort you if you feel nervous.",2016,Lara Hogan,larahogan,2016-12-06T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2016/public-speaking-with-a-buddy/,process 299,What the Heck Is Inclusive Design?,"Naming things is hard. And I don’t just mean CSS class names and JSON properties. Finding the right term for what we do with the time we spend awake and out of bed turns out to be really hard too. I’ve variously gone by “front-end developer”, “user experience designer”, and “accessibility engineer”, all clumsy and incomplete terms for labeling what I do as an… erm… see, there’s the problem again. It’s tempting to give up entirely on trying to find the right words for things, but this risks summarily dispensing with thousands of years spent trying to qualify the world around us. So here we are again. Recently, I’ve been using the term “inclusive design” and calling myself an “inclusive designer” a lot. I’m not sure where I first heard it or who came up with it, but the terminology feels like a good fit for the kind of stuff I care to do when I’m not at a pub or asleep. This article is about what I think “inclusive design” means and why I think you might like it as an idea. Isn’t ‘inclusive design’ just ‘accessibility’ by another name? No, I don’t think so. But that’s not to say the two concepts aren’t related. Note the ‘design’ part in ‘inclusive design’ — that’s not just there by accident. Inclusive design describes a design activity; a way of designing things. This sets it apart from accessibility — or at least our expectations of what ‘accessibility’ entails. Despite every single accessibility expert I know (and I know a lot) recommending that accessibility should be integrated into design process, it is rarely ever done. Instead, it is relegated to an afterthought, limiting its effect. The term ‘accessibility’ therefore lacks the power to connote design process. It’s not that we haven’t tried to salvage the term, but it’s beginning to look like a lost cause. So maybe let’s use a new term, because new things take new names. People get that. The ‘access’ part of accessibility is also problematic. Before we get ahead of ourselves, I don’t mean access is a problem — access is good, and the more accessible something is the better. I mean it’s not enough by itself. Imagine a website filled with poorly written and lackadaisically organized information, including a bunch of convoluted and confusing functionality. To make this site accessible is to ensure no barriers prevent people from accessing the content. But that doesn’t make the content any better. It just means more people get to suffer it. Whoopdidoo. Access is certainly a prerequisite of inclusion, but accessibility compliance doesn’t get you all the way there. It’s possible to check all the boxes but still be left with an unusable interface. And unusable interfaces are necessarily inaccessible ones. Sure, you can take an unusable interface and make it accessibility compliant, but that only placates stakeholders’ lawyers, not users. Users get little value from it. So where have we got to? Access is important, but inclusion is bigger than access. Inclusive design means making something valuable, not just accessible, to as many people as we can. So inclusive design is kind of accessibility + UX? Closer, but there are some problems with this definition. UX is, you will have already noted, a broad term encompassing activities ranging from conducting research studies to optimizing the perceived affordance of interface elements. But overall, what I take from UX is that it’s the pursuit of making interfaces understandable. As it happens, WCAG 2.0 already contains an ‘Understandable’ principle covering provisions such as readability, predictability and feedback. So you might say accessibility — at least as described by WCAG — already covers UX. Unfortunately, the criteria are limited, plus some really important stuff (like readability) is relegated to the AAA level; essentially “bonus points if you get the time (you won’t).” So better to let UX folks take care of this kind of thing. It’s what they do. Except, therein lies a danger. UX professionals don’t tend to be well versed in accessibility, so their ‘solutions’ don’t tend to work for that many people. My friend Billy Gregory coined the term SUX, or “Some UX”: if it doesn’t work for different users, it’s only doing part of the job it should be. SUX won’t do, but it’s not just a disability issue. All sorts of user circumstances go unchecked when you’re shooting straight for what people like, and bypassing what people need: device type, device settings, network quality, location, native language, and available time to name just a few. In short, inclusive design means designing things for people who aren’t you, in your situation. In my experience, mainstream UX isn’t very good at that. By bolting accessibility onto mainstream UX we labor under the misapprehension that most people have a ‘normal’ experience, a few people are exceptions, and that all of the exceptions pertain to disability directly. So inclusive design isn’t really about disability? It is about disability, but not in the same way as accessibility. Accessibility (as it is typically understood, anyway) aims to make sure things work for people with clinically recognized disabilities. Inclusive design aims to make sure things work for people, not forgetting those with clinically recognized disabilities. A subtle, but not so subtle, difference. Let’s go back to discussing readability, because that’s a good example. Now: everyone benefits from readable text; text with concise sentences and widely-understood words. It certainly helps people with cognitive impairments, but it doesn’t hinder folks who have less trouble with comprehension. In fact, they’ll more than likely be thankful for the time saved and the clarity. Readable text covers the whole gamut. It’s — you’ve got it — inclusive. Legibility is another one. A clear, well-balanced typeface makes the reading experience less uncomfortable and frustrating for all concerned, including those who have various forms of visual dyslexia. Again, everyone’s happy — so why even contemplate a squiggly, sketchy typeface? Leave well alone. Contrast too. No one benefits from low contrast; everyone benefits from high contrast. Simple. There’s no more work involved, it just entails better decision making. And that’s what design is really: decision making. How about zoom support? If you let your users pinch zoom on their phones they can compensate for poor eyesight, but they can also increase the touch area of controls, inspect detail in images, and compose better screen shots. Unobtrusively supporting options like zoom makes interfaces much more inclusive at very little cost. And when it comes to the underlying HTML code, you’re in luck: it has already been designed, from the outset, to be inclusive. HTML is a toolkit for inclusion. Using the right elements for the job doesn’t just mean the few who use screen readers benefit, but keyboard accessibility comes out-of-the-box, you can defer to browser behavior rather than writing additional scripts, the code is easier to read and maintain, and editors can create content that is effortlessly presentable. Wait… are you talking about universal design? Hmmm. Yes, I guess some folks might think of “universal design” and “inclusive design” as synonymous. I just really don’t like the term universal in this context. The thing is, it gives the impression that you should be designing for absolutely everyone in the universe. Though few would adopt a literal interpretation of “universal” in this context, there are enough developers who would deliberately misconstrue the term and decry universal design as an impossible task. I’ve actually had people push back by saying, “what, so I’ve got to make it work for people who are allergic to computers? What about people in comas?” For everyone’s sake, I think the term ‘inclusive’ is less misleading. Of course you can’t make things that everybody can use — it’s okay, that’s not the aim. But with everything that’s possible with web technologies, there’s really no need to exclude people in the vast numbers that we usually are. Accessibility can never be perfect, but by thinking inclusively from planning, through prototyping to production, you can cast a much wider net. That means more and happier users at very little if any more effort. If you like, inclusive design is the means and accessibility is the end — it’s just that you get a lot more than just accessibility along the way. Conclusion That’s inclusive design. Or at least, that’s a definition for a thing I think is a good idea which I identify as inclusive design. I’ll leave you with a few tips. Involve code early Web interfaces are made of code. If you’re not working with code, you’re not working on the interface. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with sketching or paper prototyping — in fact, I recommend paper prototyping in my book on inclusive design. Just work with code as soon as you can, and think about code even before that. Maintain a pattern library of coded solutions and omit any solutions that don’t adhere to basic accessibility guidelines. Respect conventions Your content should be fresh, inventive, radical. Your interface shouldn’t. Adopt accepted conventions in the appearance, placement and coding of interface elements. Users aren’t there to experience interface design; they’re there to use an interface. In other words: stop showing off (unless, of course, the brief is to experiment with new paradigms in interface design, for an audience of interface design researchers). Don’t be exact “Perfection is the enemy of good”. But the pursuit of perfection isn’t just to be avoided because nothing ever gets finished. Exacting design also makes things inflexible and brittle. If your design depends on elements retaining precise coordinates, they’ll break easily when your users start adjusting font settings or zooming. Choose not to position elements exactly or give them fixed, “magic number” dimensions. Make less decisions in the interface so your users can make more decisions for it. Enforce simplicity The virtue of simplicity is difficult to overestimate. The simpler an interface is, the easier it is to use for all kinds of users. Simpler interfaces require less code to make too, so there’s an obvious performance advantage. There are many design decisions that require user research, but keeping things simple is always the right thing to do. Not simplified or simple-seeming or simplistic, but simple. Do a little and do it well, for as many people as you can.",2016,Heydon Pickering,heydonpickering,2016-12-07T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2016/what-the-heck-is-inclusive-design/,process 301,Stretching Time,"Time is valuable. It’s a precious commodity that, if we’re not too careful, can slip effortlessly through our fingers. When we think about the resources at our disposal we’re often guilty of forgetting the most valuable resource we have to hand: time. We are all given an allocation of time from the time bank. 86,400 seconds a day to be precise, not a second more, not a second less. It doesn’t matter if we’re rich or we’re poor, no one can buy more time (and no one can save it). We are all, in this regard, equals. We all have the same opportunity to spend our time and use it to maximum effect. As such, we need to use our time wisely. I believe we can ‘stretch’ time, ensuring we make the most of every second and maximising the opportunities that time affords us. Through a combination of ‘Structured Procrastination’ and ‘Focused Finishing’ we can open our eyes to all of the opportunities in the world around us, whilst ensuring that we deliver our best work precisely when it’s required. A win win, I’m sure you’ll agree. Structured Procrastination I’m a terrible procrastinator. I used to think that was a curse – “Why didn’t I just get started earlier?” – over time, however, I’ve started to see procrastination as a valuable tool if it is used in a structured manner. Don Norman refers to procrastination as ‘late binding’ (a term I’ve happily hijacked). As he argues, in Why Procrastination Is Good, late binding (delay, or procrastination) offers many benefits: Delaying decisions until the time for action is beneficial… it provides the maximum amount of time to think, plan, and determine alternatives. We live in a world that is constantly changing and evolving, as such the best time to execute is often ‘just in time’. By delaying decisions until the last possible moment we can arrive at solutions that address the current reality more effectively, resulting in better outcomes. Procrastination isn’t just useful from a project management perspective, however. It can also be useful for allowing your mind the space to wander, make new discoveries and find creative connections. By embracing structured procrastination we can ‘prime the brain’. As James Webb Young argues, in A Technique for Producing Ideas, all ideas are made of other ideas and the more we fill our minds with other stimuli, the greater the number of creative opportunities we can uncover and bring to life. By late binding, and availing of a lack of time pressure, you allow the mind space to breathe, enabling you to uncover elements that are important to the problem you’re working on and, perhaps, discover other elements that will serve you well in future tasks. When setting forth upon the process of writing this article I consciously set aside time to explore. I allowed myself the opportunity to read, taking in new material, safe in the knowledge that what I discovered – if not useful for this article – would serve me well in the future. Ron Burgundy summarises this neatly: Procrastinator? No. I just wait until the last second to do my work because I will be older, therefore wiser. An ‘older, therefore wiser’ mind is a good thing. We’re incredibly fortunate to live in a world where we have a wealth of information at our fingertips. Don’t waste the opportunity to learn, rather embrace that opportunity. Make the most of every second to fill your mind with new material, the rewards will be ample. Deadlines are deadlines, however, and deadlines offer us the opportunity to focus our minds, bringing together the pieces of the puzzle we found during our structured procrastination. Like everyone I’ll hear a tiny, but insistent voice in my head that starts to rise when the deadline is approaching. The older you get, the closer to the deadline that voice starts to chirp up. At this point we need to focus. Focused Finishing We live in an age of constant distraction. Smartphones are both a blessing and a curse, they keep us connected, but if we’re not careful the constant connection they provide can interrupt our flow. When a deadline is accelerating towards us it’s important to set aside the distractions and carve out a space where we can work in a clear and focused manner. When it’s time to finish, it’s important to avoid context switching and focus. All those micro-interactions throughout the day – triaging your emails, checking social media and browsing the web – can get in the way of you hitting your deadline. At this point, they’re distractions. Chunking tasks and managing when they’re scheduled can improve your productivity by a surprising order of magnitude. At this point it’s important to remove distractions which result in ‘attention residue’, where your mind is unable to focus on the current task, due to the mental residue of other, unrelated tasks. By focusing on a single task in a focused manner, it’s possible to minimise the negative impact of attention residue, allowing you to maximise your performance on the task at hand. Cal Newport explores this in his excellent book, Deep Work, which I would highly recommend reading. As he puts it: Efforts to deepen your focus will struggle if you don’t simultaneously wean your mind from a dependence on distraction. To help you focus on finishing it’s helpful to set up a work-focused environment that is purposefully free from distractions. There’s a time and a place for structured procrastination, but – equally – there’s a time and a place for focused finishing. The French term ‘mise en place’ is drawn from the world of fine cuisine – I discovered it when I was procrastinating – and it’s applicable in this context. The term translates as ‘putting in place’ or ‘everything in its place’ and it refers to the process of getting the workplace ready before cooking. Just like a professional chef organises their utensils and arranges their ingredients, so too can you. Thanks to the magic of multiple users on computers, it’s possible to create a separate user on your computer – without access to email and other social tools – so that you can switch to that account when you need to focus and hit the deadline. Another, less technical way of achieving the same result – depending, of course, upon your line of work – is to close your computer and find some non-digital, unconnected space to work in. The goal is to carve out time to focus so you can finish. As Newport states: If you don’t produce, you won’t thrive – no matter how skilled or talented you are. Procrastination is fine, but only if it’s accompanied by finishing. Create the space to finish and you’ll enjoy the best of both worlds. In closing… There is a time and a place for everything: there is a time to procrastinate, and a time to focus. To truly reap the rewards of time, the mind needs both. By combining the processes of ‘Structured Procrastination’ and ‘Focused Finishing’ we can make the most of our 86,400 seconds a day, ensuring we are constantly primed to make new discoveries, but just as importantly, ensuring we hit the all-important deadlines. Make the most of your time, you only get so much. Use every second productively and you’ll be thankful that you did. Don’t waste your time, once it’s gone, it’s gone… and you can never get it back.",2016,Christopher Murphy,christophermurphy,2016-12-21T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2016/stretching-time/,process 302,Flexible Project Management in Inflexible Environments,"Handling unforeseen circumstances is an inevitable part of any project. It’s also often the most uncomfortable, and there is no amount of skill or planning that will fully eradicate the need to adapt to change. The ability to be flexible, responsive, and unafraid of facing not only problems, but also potentially positive scope changes and new ideas, isn’t an easy one to master. I am by no means saying that I have, but what I have learned is that there is often the temptation to shut out anything that might derail your plan, even sometimes at the cost of the quality you’re committed to. The reality is that as someone leading a project you know there will be challenges, but, in general, it’s a hassle to try keep the landscape open. Problems are bridges we should cross when we come to them, but intentional changes to the plan, and adapting for the sake of improving your first idea, is harder. There are tight schedules, resource is planned miles ahead, and you’re already juggling twenty other things. If you’re passionate about the quality of work you deliver and are working somewhere that considers itself expert within the field of digital, then having an attitude of flexibility is extremely important. It’s important when you’re overcoming a challenge or problem, but it’s also important for allowing ideas to evolve and be refined as much as they can be throughout the course of a project. Where theory falls short The premise of any Agile methodology, Scrum for example, is based around being able to work efficiently, react quickly and deliver relevant chunks of a product in manageable increments. It’s often hailed as king of flexible management and it can work really well, especially for in-house software products developed over a long or even an indefinite period of time. It holds off defining scope too far ahead and lets teams focus on smaller amounts of work, and allows them to regularly reprioritise. Unfortunately though, not all environments lend themselves as easily to a fully Agile setup. Even the ones that do may be restrained from putting it fully into practice for an array of other internal reasons. Delivering digital services to clients—within an agency setting or as a freelancer—often demands a more rigid structure. You need clear sign-off points, there’s a lot less flexibility in defining features, or working within budgets and timeframes. To start with, for a project to warrant a fully Agile team working on it, and especially for agencies, you need clients big enough and rich enough to justify the resource. You also need a lot of client trust to propose defining features and scope as you go. Although this is achievable—and there are agencies that operate an agile setup—it takes a long journey to reach that scale in the full sense of the word. Building a reputation that commands unconditional trust and reaching the point where your projects are consistently of a certain size often requires backing by long journey of success and excellence. So there is a lot of room left for understanding how we can best strive to still deliver excellent projects within more constrained structures. We know that rigid waterfall planning, more often than not, falls over as soon as a project gets anything past a basic brochure site. There are many critiques of the system, but one of the main ones tends to be that nobody considers each other’s work properly, which can result in very expensive and inefficient development. Equally, for reasons we’ve already touched upon, running fully agile teams often isn’t the right answer. So many companies, individuals, and organisations look for a middle-ground that balances being flexible and adaptive, but also provides enough upfront commitment to agree budgets, get client/stakeholder sign off, and effectively coordinate internal resource across multiple parallel projects. Although I don’t have a perfect formula—and can very much assert there is no one perfect way of managing a project because every project is different to the next—I’ve identified a few different ways you can approach flexibility that have really helped me in running projects more smoothly within more realistic constraints. Planned Flexibility Drawing on some of the traditional methodologies such as PRINCE2, a good starting point for aspiring to be flexible is by planning for it from the start. Planning flexibility comes in a few forms. For one, you can regularly identify and log potential risks as a generally good, on-going habit over the course of the project. This essentially just involves scanning the horizon for potential blips on a regular basis (for example weekly) by consulting with your team and documenting it somewhere. It means you have a checkpoint when you sit down and make sure you’re minimising what will or may catch you by surprise. A good time to do this is in a weekly catch up meeting. It’s not going to fix all your problems, but it will make sure you have a head start on the ones you can see coming. On the subject of team meetings, setting up recurring project events, including a weekly call, a weekly team meeting and (depending on the size of the project) I like to try also do a stand-up as often as possible. Keeping everyone involved and bought in to a project is going to help you infinitely when you need to spot a problem or manage changes to the plan. It will be the difference between your designer spotting an issue and making a mental note to ‘tell you later’, and them actually coming over to tell you directly and immediately. Despite the overhead of meetings, and looping people into stages that they aren’t directly responsible for, the business benefits are chances for success are drastically increased. Planning in, and being aware of how important your team is, will help you be flexible. Building contingency (formally know as slack) into your project plan from the word go is another well-known and essential way of planning to be flexible. Your project plan will change a lot over the course of a project, but there are still the days that you estimate a job will take, and the days you should actually plan in. Most sensible management teams understand that budgets need to be agreed with this slack in mind or you will not be able to deliver a quality service. I believe that commercial awareness is one of the most valuable skills a project manager can have, but penny pinching will ruin client and team relationships, destroy buy-in and creativity, and often end you up with a much more expensive, hacky, and resented product. It’s not a justification to let budgets spiral out of control, but a way of thinking about the bigger picture and wider plan of the company itself. It’s unlikely you want high staff turnover because everyone fell out while you were screaming money at them and they didn’t feel like they could do a good job. It’s also unlikely that you will be able to deliver quality products, which will win you a strong reputation and subsequently bigger and better projects. Evaluating risk factors and building in the right amount of slack from the start will give you more wriggle room when you need to adapt and react. On the flip side, also keeping an overview of the wider workload (that you’re not necessarily responsible for), and knowing who to talk if resource is becoming free or needs filling, is another handy way of being able to react quickly and ensuring your management system is respected. You want pockets of backup time planned in, but you also want everyone being as productive as they can most of the time. Never run at 100% capacity: as soon as something does need to change, you’re left with nowhere to move. Transparency Having a client or stakeholder that trusts you is a really powerful aid in any regard, but especially so when you need to communicate an issue or new suggestion. Positioning yourself and your team as experts and taking the time to delve into the wider picture—and the goals surrounding your client’s reasons to commission the project in the first place—will make you more valuable to them. Clients and stakeholders will always be different, and sometimes you will get people who are just plain difficult, but more often than not people will listen if you’re willing to talk and explain things. As I’m sure all of us have realised at one point or another, a lot of people think they know what they want, and it’s usually the wrong thing. Managing key stakeholders in your project is arguably your biggest challenge, if they are on the your side and feel like the team is genuinely working to give them something of quality and value, then they will make your job easier. It’s often down to you to educate them, and to help them recognise and understand the work involved and you and your team’s reasoning behind your decisions. Being overly submissive or overly secretive will foster a dynamic in which they feel expected to steer the project. In this situation they may not respect the team’s suggestions or may come up with some unreasonable and counterproductive ideas that are likely to hinder progress and lower morale. Getting the stakeholder on board and making them feel a part of the wider picture will make things easier. Pushing back and challenging ideas or working hard to justify something they don’t quite understand will often work in your favour and protects your team. On quite a basic level it also shows you care and are invested; on another, it shows you feel confident in your expertise within your field and that is ultimately the reason they hired you. Taking the time to think about and be aware of this relationship, will make it easier to be flexible and handle new ideas or suggestions that pop up as the project goes along. Change doesn’t need to be ‘scope creep’ if it’s raised in a practical, value-orientated, and level headed discussion. There is usually a way forward for new ideas, as long as they’re valuable and support the wider goals. Maybe the deadline gets pushed back, maybe you get more budget, maybe the client is happy to forgo something else. As long as there’s value and reason, it shows integrity to the project and respect for its success. You can’t expect for this to go smoothly without having invested in the client relationship, so it’s a large point in paving the way to handling change well. Reactive Flexibility Finally, if you’ve been doing this for a while, you’ll know by now that you can’t anticipate everything. Sometimes you will have to react and change the plan under circumstances that aren’t easy. When an unexpected problem first rears its head—a client’s casual afterthought that’s threatening the scope of the project, an internal resource conflict, a junior member of staff that’s not grasping the ropes quite as quickly as you’d hoped—you have to react quickly. In his book, ‘Pitch Anything’, Oren Klaff talks about people’s first reactions being processed by their ‘crocodile brain’ before they’ve had a chance to refine and digest the information more intelligibly. As project managers, product owners, or scrum masters, it’s natural for our immediate reactions to an unexpected problem to cause a pang of stress. But after that initial jolt you need to turn to practical solutions and start racking your brain for different ways forward. It’s here you need to remember to not let your imagination get the better of you, especially if you’ve been putting in the legwork with your team and your client. There is always a way forward and moments like this can be a good opportunity to develop your negotiation and diplomacy skills. Don’t let your immediate reaction be shutting the problem down; instead, take a second to think about it before you decide on the best direction. In a stressful situation, your first idea probably won’t be your best one. From an internal point of view, it’s very important that whatever went wrong doesn’t turn into a finger pointing exercise and you don’t lose your cool. Getting caught up in a blame game or a witch hunt is never productive. Relationship cultivating can sometimes be the pillar that gets you through a stressful blip. Biggest tip for staying flexible when you’re reacting to a problem—apart form obviously thinking of ways forward—is to communicate. Don’t go quiet until you feel like you have a plan, you’ll often need to put everyone else at ease before you can move things forward. Problem solving is part of the job and will need to happen in even the most flexible of product delivery systems. In conclusion, being flexible is never simple but there are things you can do to make your life easier. Owning a position of expertise, putting together a team that’s involved in each other’s work and cultivating a client/stakeholder relationship that’s as transparent and respectful as possible will get you a long way. In times of crisis, believe in your skills and be open to adapting over getting frustrated.",2016,Gillian Sibthorpe,gilliansibthorpe,2016-12-04T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2016/flexible-project-management/,process 304,Five Lessons From My First 18 Months as a Dev,"I recently moved from Sydney to London to start a dream job with Twitter as a software engineer. A software engineer! Who would have thought. Having started my career as a journalist, the title ‘engineer’ is very strange to me. The notion of writing in first person is also very strange. Journalists are taught to be objective, invisible, to keep yourself out of the story. And here I am writing about myself on a public platform. Cringe. Since I started learning to code I’ve often felt compelled to write about my experience. I want to share my excitement and struggles with the world! But as a junior I’ve been held back by thoughts like ‘whatever you have to say won’t be technical enough’, ‘any time spent writing a blog would be better spent writing code’, ‘blogging is narcissistic’, etc.  Well, I’ve been told that your thirties are the years where you stop caring so much about what other people think. And I’m almost 30. So here goes! These are five key lessons from my first year and a half in tech: Deployments should delight, not dread Lesson #1: Making your deployment process as simple as possible is worth the investment. In my first dev job, I dreaded deployments. We would deploy every Sunday night at 8pm. Preparation would begin the Friday before. A nominated deployment manager would spend half a day tagging master, generating scripts, writing documentation and raising JIRAs. The only fun part was choosing a train gif to post in HipChat: ‘All aboard! The deployment train leaves in 3, 2, 1…” When Sunday night came around, at least one person from every squad would need to be online to conduct smoke tests. Most times, the deployments would succeed. Other times they would fail. Regardless, deployments ate into people’s weekend time — and they were intense. Devs would rush to have their code approved before the Friday cutoff. Deployment managers who were new to the process would fear making a mistake.  The team knew deployments were a problem. They were constantly striving to improve them. And what I’ve learnt from Twitter is that when they do, their lives will be bliss. TweetDeck’s deployment process fills me with joy and delight. It’s quick, easy and stress free. In fact, it’s so easy I deployed code on my first day in the job! Anyone can deploy, at any time of day, with a single command. Rollbacks are just as simple. There’s no rush to make the deployment train. No manual preparation. No fuss. Value — whether in the form of big new features, simple UI improvements or even production bug fixes — can be shipped in an instant. The team assures me the process wasn’t always like this. They invested lots of time in making their deployments better. And it’s clearly paid off. Code reviews need love, time and acceptance Lesson #2: Code reviews are a three-way gift. Every time I review someone else’s code, I help them, the team and myself. Code reviews were another pain point in my previous job. And to be honest, I was part of the problem. I would raise code reviews that were far too big. They would take days, sometimes weeks, to get merged. One of my reviews had 96 comments! I would rarely review other people’s code because I felt too junior, like my review didn’t carry any weight.  The review process itself was also tiring, and was often raised in retrospectives as being slow. In order for code to be merged it needed to have ticks of approval from two developers and a third tick from a peer tester. It was the responsibility of the author to assign the reviewers and tester. It was felt that if it was left to team members to assign themselves to reviews, the “someone else will do it” mentality would kick in, and nothing would get done. At TweetDeck, no-one is specifically assigned to reviews. Instead, when a review is raised, the entire team is notified. Without fail, someone will jump on it. Reviews are seen as blocking. They’re seen to be equally, if not more important, than your own work. I haven’t seen a review sit for longer than a few hours without comments.  We also don’t work on branches. We push single commits for review, which are then merged to master. This forces the team to work in small, incremental changes. If a review is too big, or if it’s going to take up more than an hour of someone’s time, it will be sent back. What I’ve learnt so far at Twitter is that code reviews must be small. They must take priority. And they must be a team effort. Being a new starter is no “get out of jail free card”. In fact, it’s even more of a reason to be reviewing code. Reviews are a great way to learn, get across the product and see different programming styles. If you’re like me, and find code reviews daunting, ask to pair with a senior until you feel more confident. I recently paired with my mentor at Twitter and found it really helpful. Get friendly with feature flagging Lesson #3: Feature flagging gives you complete control over how you build and release a project. Say you’re implementing a new feature. It’s going to take a few weeks to complete. You’ll complete the feature in small, incremental changes. At what point do these changes get merged to master? At what point do they get deployed? Do you start at the back end and finish with the UI, so the user won’t see the changes until they’re ready? With feature flagging — it doesn’t matter. In fact, with feature flagging, by the time you are ready to release your feature, it’s already deployed, sitting happily in master with the rest of your codebase.  A feature flag is a boolean value that gets wrapped around the code relating to the thing you’re working on. The code will only be executed if the value is true. if (TD.decider.get(‘new_feature’)) { //code for new feature goes here } In my first dev job, I deployed a navigation link to the feature I’d been working on, making it visible in the product, even though the feature wasn’t ready. “Why didn’t you use a feature flag?” a senior dev asked me. An honest response would have been: “Because they’re confusing to implement and I don’t understand the benefits of using them.” The fix had to wait until the next deployment. The best thing about feature flagging at TweetDeck is that there is no need to deploy to turn on or off a feature. We set the status of the feature via an interface called Deckcider, and the code makes regular API requests to get the status.  At TweetDeck we are also able to roll our features out progressively. The first rollout might be to a staging environment. Then to employees only. Then to 10 per cent of users, 20 per cent, 30 per cent, and so on. A gradual rollout allows you to monitor for bugs and unexpected behaviour, before releasing the feature to the entire user base. Sometimes a piece of work requires changes to existing business logic. So the code might look more like this: if (TD.decider.get(‘change_to_existing_feature’)) { //new logic goes here } else { //old logic goes here } This seems messy, right? Riddling your code with if else statements to determine which path of logic should be executed, or which version of the UI should be displayed. But at Twitter, this is embraced. You can always clean up the code once a feature is turned on. This isn’t essential, though. At least not in the early days. When a cheeky bug is discovered, having the flag in place allows the feature to be very quickly turned off again. Let data and experimentation drive development Lesson #4: Use data to determine the direction of your product and measure its success. The first company I worked for placed a huge amount of emphasis on data-driven decision making. If we had an idea, or if we wanted to make a change, we were encouraged to “bring data” to show why it was necessary. “Without data, you’re just another person with an opinion,” the chief data scientist would say. This attitude helped to ensure we were building the right things for our customers. Instead of just plucking a new feature out of thin air, it was chosen based on data that reflected its need. But how do you design that feature? How do you know that the design you choose will have the desired impact? That’s where experiments come into play.  At TweetDeck we make UI changes that we hope will delight our users. But the assumptions we make about our users are often wrong. Our front-end team recently sat in a room and tried to guess which UIs from A/B tests had produced better results. Half the room guessed incorrectly every time. We can’t assume a change we want to make will have the impact we expect. So we run an experiment. Here’s how it works. Users are placed into buckets. One bucket of users will have access to the new feature, the other won’t. We hypothesise that the bucket exposed to the new feature will have better results. The beauty of running an experiment is that we’ll know for sure. Instead of blindly releasing the feature to all users without knowing its impact, once the experiment has run its course, we’ll have the data to make decisions accordingly. Hire the developer, not the degree Lesson #5: Testing candidates on real world problems will allow applicants from all backgrounds to shine. Surely, a company like Twitter would give their applicants insanely difficult code tests, and the toughest technical questions, that only the cleverest CS graduates could pass, I told myself when applying for the job. Lucky for me, this wasn’t the case. The process was insanely difficult—don’t get me wrong—but the team at TweetDeck gave me real world problems to solve. The first code test involved bug fixes, performance and testing. The second involved DOM traversal and manipulation. Instead of being put on the spot in a room with a whiteboard and pen I was given a task, access to the internet, and time to work on it. Similarly, in my technical interviews, I was asked to pair program on real world problems that I was likely to face on the job. In one of my phone screenings I was told Twitter wanted to increase diversity in its teams. Not just gender diversity, but also diversity of experience and background. Six months later, with a bunch of new hires, team lead Tom Ashworth says TweetDeck has the most diverse team it’s ever had. “We designed an interview process that gave us a way to simulate the actual job,” he said. “It’s not about testing whether you learnt an algorithm in school.” Is this lowering the bar? No. The bar is whether a candidate has the ability to solve problems they are likely to face on the job. I recently spoke to a longstanding Atlassian engineer who said they hadn’t seen an algorithm in their seven years at the company. These days, only about 50 per cent of developers have computer science degrees. The majority of developers are self taught, learn on the job or via online courses. If you want to increase diversity in your engineering team, ensure your interview process isn’t excluding these people.",2016,Amy Simmons,amysimmons,2016-12-20T00:00:00+00:00,https://24ways.org/2016/my-first-18-months-as-a-dev/,process