Given the recent discussion here on developer.* about teams of 'best programmers' [1], it was a nice coincidence to see this new essay called "Teams and Stars" by Scott Berkun [2]. Scott hits some excellent points, including this one:
We're all servants to our egos but it's the talented that have the greatest risk of slavery. If they're not careful their self image can be constructed around their ability to perform: a shaky foundation for anyone's psychology. If their emotional lives have no other sources of positive validation they will sacrifice everything, health, friends, dignity, sanity, to maintain their self-image about their work. Many young stars are at risk: they haven't sorted out yet the difference between being talented and being successful (or happy) and they can become unpredictable when that gap in their psychology is challenged.
This reminds me a lot of this from Gerald Weinberg's biography [3] (bold emphasis mine):
After almost 40 years working with computers, I've learned a couple of things, but I still can't make sense out of most of it. Most of all, I've discovered that people are at the bottom of just about every problem - but I think I knew that when I was little, then got talked out of it somewhere along the way. I've worked hard at relearning this lesson, and learning how to do something about it. While educating myself, I learned a second principle: I'm the "people" at the bottom of most of my problems.
"I'm the 'people' at the bottom of most of my problems." This is a profound lesson for all of us, and one I endeavor to remember every day. I'm also reminded of this from Edward Nilges's response to jos.trem [4]:
Personally, I had to unlearn the very idea that I "deserved" as an Ace Programmer to bother everybody with my smoking, my swearing at my computer, or my rewriting other people's code just because I thought I was some sort of Genius, years ago.
To this end, I took three Outward Bound classes to learn teamwork and leadership and I realize that the minimum wage Outward Bound instructors had mathematically more skills than me.
I can relate to these sentiments personally because I too had to teach myself (and am still doing so) to work better with others, to be aware of how my own actions and reactions affect other people on my team. If I'm a pain in the ass and a cranky sonofabitch (as I have been in the past, for which I'd like to go back and apologize to many past coworkers), it does not matter how well I can code.
Be sure to read the section at the end of Scott's essay [5] called "What good stars do." The closing line hits it right-on:
It's the brightest stars that recognize how much they need their teams to succeed.
Being a "star" means so much more than one's technical prowess. They don't teach this in programming school.
It occurs to me that my comments up to this point might seem as if I'm trying to hold myself up as a "star programmer," or compare myself to people like Gerald Weinberg or Edward Nilges. While I have some confidence in my own skills, I try my best to remain humble in the face of all I do not know. (As Edward likes to say, like the grass bowing down to the blowing wind.) I look to professionals more experienced than myself for wisdom and insight.
Jerry Weinberg has been in this game for around 50 years, and Edward Nilges some 35 or 40 years. Another author I admire, Robert L. Glass has also been a software professional for 50 years. Since they don't teach it in programming school, the writings of people like these are where I go to get it. (And one of the things I've learned is that I can learn from everyone around me, not just people who write books.)
Thanks for reading,
Dan
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