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Month: February 2013

A prospective new college hire recently related an odd comment from his professor: systems programming is dead. I was nonplussed; what could the professor have meant? Systems is clearly very much alive. Interesting and important projects march under the banner of systems. But as I tried to construct a less emotional rebuttal, I realized I lacked a crisp definition of what systems programming is.

Wikipedia defines systems software in the narrowest terms: the stuff that interacts with hardware. But that covers a tiny fraction of modern systems. So what is systems software? It depends on when you’re asking the question. At one time, the web server was the application; now it’s the systems software on which many web-facing applications are built. At one time a database was the application; now it’s systems software that supports a variety of custom and off-the-shelf applications. Before my time, shells were probably considered a bleeding edge application; now they’re systems software on which some of the lowest-level plumbing of modern operating systems are built.

Any layer on which people build applications of increasing complexity is systems software. Most software that endures the transition to systems software does so whether its authors intended it or not. People in the software industry often talk about standing on the shoulders of giants; the systems software accumulated and refined over decades are those giants.

Stable interfaces define systems software. The programs that consume those interfaces expect the underlying systems software to be perfect every time. Initially innovation might happen in the interfaces themselves — the concurrent model of Node.js is a great example. As software matures, the interfaces become commodified; innovation happens behind those stable interfaces. Systems is only “dead” at its edges. Interfaces might be flexible and well-designed, or sclerotic and poorly designed. Regardless, new or improved systems software can increase performance, enhance observability, or simply fit a different economic niche.

There are a few different types of systems software. First there’s supporting systems software, systems software written as necessary foundation for some new application. This is systems software written with a purpose and designed to solve an unsolved — or poorly solved — problem. Chronologically, examples include UNIX, compilers, and libraries like jQuery. You write it because you need it, but it’s solving a problem that’s likely not unique to your particular application.

Then there’s accidental systems software. Stick everything from Apache to Excel to the Bourne shell in that category. These didn’t necessarily set out to be the foundation on which increasingly complex software would be written, but they definitely are. I’m sure there were times when indoctrination into systems-hood was painful, where the authors wanted to change interfaces, but good systems software respects its consumers and carries them forward. Somewhat famously make preserved its arcane syntax because two consumers already existed. JavaScript started as a glorified web design tool; now it sits several layers beneath complex client-side applications. Even more recently, developers of Node.js (itself  JavaScript-based) changed a commonly used interface that broke many applications. Historical mistakes can be annoying to live with, but — as the Node.js team determined — compatibility trumps cleanliness.

The largest bucket is replacement systems software. Linux, Java, ZFS, and DTrace fall into this category. At the time of their development, each was a notionally compatible replacement for something that already existed. Linux, of course, reimplemented the UNIX design to provide a free, compatible alternative. Java set about building a better runtime (the stable interface being a binary provided to customers to execute) designed to abstract away the operating system entirely. ZFS represented a completely new way of thinking about filesystems, but it did so within the tight constraints of POSIX interfaces and storage hardware. DTrace added new and unique observability to most of the stable interfaces that applications build on.

Finally, there’s intentional systems software. This is systems software by design, but unlike supporting systems software, there’s no consumer. Intentional systems software takes an “if you build it, they will come” approach. This is highly prone to failure — without an existence proof that your software solves a problem and exposes the right interfaces, it’s very difficult to know if you’re building the right thing.

Why define these categories? Knowing which you’re working with can inform your decisions. If you’ve written accidental systems software that has had systems-ness thrust upon it, realize that future versions need to respect the consumers — or willfully cast them aside. When writing replacement systems software, recognize the constraints on the system, and know exactly where you’re constrained and where you can innovate (or consider if you don’t want to use the existing solution). If you’ve written supporting systems software, know that others will inevitably need solutions to the same problems. Either invest in maintaining it and keeping it best of breed; resign to the fact that it will need to be replaced as others invest in a different solution; or open source it and hope (or advocate) that it becomes that ubiquitous solution.

TL;DR?

What’s systems software? It is the increasingly complex, increasingly capable, increasingly diverse foundation on which applications are built. It’s that long and growing tail of the corpus of software at large. The interfaces might be static, but it’s a rich venue for innovation. As more and more critical applications build on an interface, the more value there is in improving the systems software beneath it. Systems software is defined by the constraints; it’s a mission and a mindset with unique challenges, and unique potential.

The idea of the holistic engineer embodies the point of view that an engineer needs to consider the whole system, the whole body of work that makes a product successful. It bears no relation to holistic health — and it’s not some even newer age quackery. There are many specialist roles in the software industry — marketing, product management, project management, documentation, education, support, etc. — but the best software engineers are generalists who can assume a portion of each specialty. Further, some software is particularly well-suited for generalists who can combine a deep understanding of the market, the technology, and the implementation.

Software products are born of many different types of organizations, and even within similar organizations roles might have different names. Here’s a generic example with some names on the roles. New products and features start with product managers. Their role is to talk to customers and sales, educate themselves on the market, and determine the right product or enhancement. The handoff to engineering takes the form of a product requirements document (PRD) — it might sound like jargon, but the term is more or less universal. Software engineers execute against that PRD; QA engineers design tests that assert conformance to the PRD while developers steer the product from point A to point B as described by product management. Documentation writers and learning services take the PRD and the software to generate collateral that teaches customers how to use it. Product marketing makes the PowerPoints; sales presents them to customers.

And that’s where babies come from.

It’s not a perfect process, but it’s birthed many successful products. The shortcoming is that it can bury engineers under filters. Instead of learning about actual customer problems, engineers hear some processed form of what the customer said. Instead of raw critique of a new feature, engineers hear a softened and truncated form. The more technical the product and the market, the more those filters impede innovation and hamper the trajectory of the product.

The holistic engineer augments the jobs of those specialists, participating in each phase of product development. They join in those early conversations with customers, and share the responsibility of market comprehension. They partner to construct the requirements and design that those engineers will then implement. Along the way, engineers of course validate decisions with sales and customers — this is Agile writ large — but engineers also participate in the outbound documentation, training, and marketing activities.

From start to finish, the process is designed to fuel innovation by arming creative engineers with data and understanding. Customers often tell you what they want; they rarely tell you what they need. The more technical or disruptive the product, the more value an engineer has in those conversations, extracting the essence of the problem from the noise of preconceptions. The relationships with customer and the full context around their problems keeps engineers grounded as the inevitable gaps emerge in the product specification. Holistic engineers also help to educate the rest of the company and the rest of the world about new products and features. The process of explaining technology advises the way engineers design and build products. When we’re having a hard time explaining a feature or presenting a product, we need to revise our design. We’ve all heard engineering accused of building a product that was too complicated for the market, or engineers complain that a product failed because it was poorly marketed; both are symptoms of poor coordinating. Giving engineers holistic responsibility guards against this problem — if the product is failing the onus is on them to solve it.

Most important though are the feelings of ownership and agency associated with the whole-body approach. The holistic engineer is explicitly tasked with making a product succeed. That’s not to say that he or she goes it alone — specialists in all functions have major roles — rather the engineer is empowered to move the product through all stages; the other side of that coin is that there’s no opportunity to shrug off a responsibility as belonging to someone else.

In this model, everyone in every role at the company has the opportunity to engage in product management. Indeed, there’s still value in explicit product management. Channels of communication need to be easy and open for people with ideas to connect to people who will distill them into implementation. And it’s not enough to just create the right environment; hiring processes need to identify broad thinkers, and mentorship needs to nurture and reward holistic execution. Not every engineer can — or wants to — take on those additional responsibilities, but the best thrive with market and technology awareness, unencumbered by filters. They want responsibility and authority to make their ideas succeed.

The idea of the holistic engineer isn’t theoretical, it’s the model we stumbled into in the Solaris Kernel Group, and later implemented deliberately at Fishworks. There, a small team took on wide ranging responsibilities to build a product that’s now doing $400m/year for Oracle. At Delphix we’re again inculcating and hiring for holistic thinking. At all three I’ve seen engineers develop new products and features that address customer needs that would have otherwise never emerged from customers’ initial requests. It’s not easy to find the right kind of engineers, but if a company can empower the right engineers in the right ways — and they can live up to the responsibility — the payoff is a better product, built more efficiently.

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