Defining Technical Debt. Has everybody been getting it "wrong"?

Technical debt is one of those concepts that has both gained a lot of traction over the last few years, and in some ways been misused as a concept quite heavily. It seems that nearly anything and everything that people don't like about a code base gets lumped into a broad technical debt category, so it's getting harder for people to define with clarity what technical debt actually is as the concept becomes more and more muddied but people's perceptions as to what it is they are looking at when they perceive technical debt. Contributing to this lack of clarity is the need to be able to quantify this debt, and to measure it in a meaningful way. The problem is however, that technical debt isn't like bank loan, where you accrue a fixed amount of debt and you pay it of bit by bit, and I can't help but think that for many, the definition of the word Debt has left many feeling that it is something very specific. For others, the issue is that everything they do incurs a measure of "debt" that negatively impacts on the product, so there is a kind of underlying hysteria that leads some people to believe that they need to measure every little thing about their software development, and that somehow they can see a report that will pinpoint where the problems lie. The reality however is both much more subtle, and perhaps much simpler than many people are leading themselves to believe.

Why is it that Agile is so misunderstood?

Software development is an often misunderstood game. When you tell a complete non-technical stranger that you are a Software Developer, they will often respond with questions such as: "So you're into computers?", or "So you make games?", or even "Can you help me with my computer problem?". Clearly these people have no idea what software development is, and when you attempt to explain how you do what you do, they nod, and do their best to look impressed, yet you can see that they are thinking things like: "I have no idea what this guy is going on about", or they find a quick way to change the subject. This is all to be expected and barely registers with me any more. I am however quite perplexed to have observed over the last few years just how misunderstood software development is by many of the people who are themselves software developers!

I remember being told during the early 80's by every adult who asked me what I wanted to do as a career that I should get into computers because everybody would have one one day and would need experts to make them do stuff. Clearly those predictions came true, and it appears that I wasn't the only kid to heed the advice of his wiser elders at the time - actually I told everyone that I wanted to do something else so that I could look rebellious when I would decide to change to do all that "geek stuff" later on! The thing is, while there are a lot of software developers out there, not all of them appear to be able to claim to be very good at what they do, even after 10's of years of experience. Yes, that was yet another bold statement for me to make, but I have a good reason for believing this, and I might even have an explanation or two for why this is.

When is it appropriate to redesign a product?

As is my habit when looking for inspiration for a new blog entry, I recently came across a question on Programmers.SE which seemed at first to be asking one question, but was really about something else. In this case the poster seemed to be asking about trying to understand something about the SCRUM methodology, but was really asking about how to convince his company to abandon development on a failing project, and redesigning the product as a new green field project. Naturally I weighed into the debate with my own lengthy answer about this, but it has since had me thinking about the question of when - if ever - it might be appropriate to actually push for a redesign.

I've now worked with my present employer for 9½ years.  In that time, I have redesigned a flagship product twice. For my previous employer, I worked there for only 1½ years and I convinced the company to redesign their flagship product.  Did I make the right decisions, and were these decisions made for the right reasons?

Is “Code Smell” still a useful metaphor, or has misuse of the term subverted its meaning?

I've come across some comments (E.g.: here, here, here, here & here) over the last couple of years that decry the use of the phrase "Code Smell" and I've been wondering what the reasoning is for those who dislike it.  I first encountered this term when I read Martin Fowler's Refactoring book back in 2000, yet it's only in the last year or two that I've heard any complaint about the use of the phrase.

I asked this same question on Programmers.SE recently, and then went on to answer my own question.  I'll admit to a little narcissistic pleasure in having written my own answer. So much so that I thought the topic would make a good blog article! :-P