Software development amnesia

There needs to be a name for the software development version of the Gell-Mann Amnesia effect. The full version is worth reading, but I’ll just repeat the critical parts here (emphasis mine):

You open the newspaper to an article on some subject you know well. […] You read the article and see the journalist has absolutely no understanding of either the facts or the issues. Often, the article is so wrong it actually presents the story backward–reversing cause and effect. […] In any case, you read with exasperation or amusement the multiple errors in a story–and then turn the page to national or international affairs, and read with renewed interest as if the rest of the newspaper was somehow more accurate about far-off Palestine than it was about the story you just read. You turn the page, and forget what you know.

I’d like to propose a corollary to the Gell-Mann Amnesia effect, targeted specifically at software developers:

As an experienced software developer, you how much work goes into delivering a new feature for a reasonably-sized product. The myriad priorities that are juggled to determine the ever-shifting sands of the roadmap. You’ve been frustrated at the angry customers demanding that their personal top priority be attended to first, under the highly-mistaken assumption that their use case is everyone’s use case.

You know the weeks or months of discussion and planning that happens before any code is written. The sheer number of people who will be involved in trying to get it right. The UX research, the design iterations, the architectural concerns. You know the amount of testing that needs to happen for edge cases on different platforms, or with different configuration setups. You know the rigour with which someone in the QA team will pick up on potential problems. Depending on the size of the company, there might even be an internal roll-out first, to pick up any stray bugs. Then, and only then, can it finally go through to a public release.

You breathe a sigh of relief that the feature you’ve worked so hard for is out the door. Switching to some other piece of software you use frequently, you see an update notification. The release notes mention some small, trivial new feature that has no value for you. You exclaim, “Ugh, how can they possibly be focusing on such unimportant details when they still haven’t fixed the thing that annoys me the most?” — as if somehow this other company’s planning and implementation process is any different from yours.

You switch away from your product, and forget what you know.