Kamala Harris lost. Here we are. So it goes.

Are you sad? Are you scared?

I am very sad. I am very scared.

But, like everyone else in this position, most of all, I want to know what to do next.

A Mission For Progress

I believe that we should set up a missionary organization for progressive and liberal values.

In 2017, Kayla Chadwick wrote the now-classic article, “I Don’t Know How To Explain To You That You Should Care About Other People”. It resonated with millions of people, myself included. It expresses an exasperation with a populace that seems ignorant of economics, history, politics, and indeed unable to read the news. It is understandable to be frustrated with people who are exercising their electoral power callously and irresponsibly.

But I think in 2024, we need to reckon with the fact that we do, in fact, need to explain to a large swathe of the population that they should care about other people.

We had better figure out how to explain it soon.

Shared Values — A Basis for Hope

The first question that arises when we start considering outreach to the conservative-leaning or undecided independent population is, “are these people available to be convinced?”.

To that, I must answer an unqualified “yes”.

I know that some of you are already objecting. For those of us with an understanding of history and the mechanics of bigotry in the United States, it might initially seem like the answer is “no”.

As the Nazis came to power in the 1920s, they were campaigning openly on a platform of antisemitic violence. Everyone knew what the debate was. It was hard to claim that you didn’t, in spite of some breathtakingly cowardly contemporaneous journalism, they weren’t fooling anyone.

It feels ridiculous to say this, but Hitler did not have support among Jews.

Yet, after campaigning on a platform of defaming immigrants, and Mexican immigrants specifically for a decade, a large part of what drove his victory is that Trump enjoyed a shockingly huge surge of support among the Hispanic population. Even some undocumented migrants — the ones most likely to be herded into concentration camps starting in January — are supporting him.

I believe that this is possible because, in order to maintain support of the multi-ethnic working-class coalition that Trump has built, the Republicans must maintain plausible deniability. They have to say “we are not racist”, “we are not xenophobic”. Incredibly, his supporters even say “I don’t hate trans people” with startling regularity.

Most voters must continue to believe that hateful policies with devastating impacts are actually race-neutral, and are simply going to get rid of “bad” people. Even the ones motivated by racial resentment are mostly motivated by factually incorrect beliefs about racialized minorities receiving special treatment and resources which they are not in fact receiving.

They are victims of a disinformation machine. One that has rendered reality incomprehensible.

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If you listen to conservative messaging, you can hear them referencing this all the time. Remember when JD Vance made that comment about Democrats calling Diet Mountain Dew racist?

Many publications wrote about this joke “bombing”¹, but the kernel of truth within it is this: understanding structural bigotry in the United States is difficult. When we progressives talk about it, people who don’t understand it think that our explanations sound ridiculous and incoherent.

There’s a reason that the real version of critical race theory is a graduate-level philosophy-of-law course, and not a couple of catch phrases.

If, without context, someone says that “municipal zoning laws are racist”, this makes about as much sense as “Diet Mountain Dew is racist” to someone who doesn’t already know what “redlining” is.

Conservatives prey upon this confusion to their benefit. But they prey on this because they must do so. They must do so because, despite everything, hate is not actually popular among the American electorate. Even now, they have to be deceived into it.

The good news is that all we need to do is stop the deception.

Politics Matter

If I have sold you on the idea that a substantial plurality of voters are available to be persuaded, the next question is: can we persuade them? Do we, as progressives, have the resources and means to do so? We did lose, after all, and it might seem like nothing we did had much of an impact.

Let’s analyze that assumption.

Across the country, Trump’s margins increased. However, in the swing states, where Harris spent money on campaigning, his margins increased less than elsewhere. At time of writing, we project that the safe-state margin shift will be 3.55% towards trump, and the swing-state margin shift will be 1.69%.

This margin was, sadly, too small for a victory, but it does show that the work mattered. Perhaps given more time, or more resources, it would have mattered just a little bit more, and that would have been decisive.

This is to say, in the places where campaign dollars were spent, even against the similar spending of the Trump campaign, we pushed the margin of support 1.86% higher within 107 days. So yes: campaigning matters. Which parts and how much are not straightforward, but it definitely matters.

This is a bit of a nonsensical comparison for a whole host of reasons², but just for a ballpark figure, if we kept this pressure up continuously during the next 4 years, we could increase support for a democratic candidate by 25%.

We Can Teach, Not Sell

Political junkies tend to overestimate the knowledge of the average voter. Even when we are trying to compensate for it, we tend to vastly overestimate how much the average voter knows about politics and policy. I suspect that you, dear reader, are a political junkie even if you don’t think of yourself as one.

To give you a sense of what I mean, across the country, on Election day and the day after, there was a huge spike in interest for the Google query, “did Joe Biden drop out”.

Consistently over the last decade, democratic policies are more popular than their opponents. Even deep red states, such as Kansas, often vote for policies supported by democrats and opposed by Republicans.

This confusion about policy is not organic; it is not voters’ fault. It is because Republicans constantly lie.

All this ignorance might seem discouraging, but it presents an opportunity: people will not sign up to be persuaded, but people do like being informed. Rather than proselytizing via a hard sales pitch, it should be possible to offer to explain how policy connects to elections. And this is made so much the easier if so many of these folks already generally like our policies.

The Challenge Is Enormous

I’ve listed some reasons for optimism, but that does not mean that this will be easy.

Republicans have a tremendously powerful, decentralized media apparatus that reinforces their culture-war messaging all the time.

After some of the post-election analysis, “The Left Needs Its Own Joe Rogan” is on track to become a cliché within the week.³ While I am deeply sympathetic to that argument, the right-wing media’s success is not organic; it is funded by petrochemical billionaires.

We cannot compete via billionaire financing, and as such, we have to have a way to introduce voters to progressive and liberal media. Which means more voters need social connections to liberals and progressives.

Good Works

The democratic presidential campaign alone spent a billion and a half dollars. And, as shown above, this can be persuasive, but it’s just the persuasion itself.

Better than spending all this money on telling people what good stuff we would do for them if we were in power, we could just show them, by doing good stuff. We should live our values, not just endlessly reiterate them.

A billion dollars is a significant amount of power in its own right.

For historical precedent, consider the Black Panthers’ Free Breakfast For Children program. This program absolutely scared the shit out of the conservative power structure, to the point that Nixon’s FBI literally raided them for giving out free food to children.

Religious missionaries, who are famously annoying, often offset their annoying-ness by doing charitable work in the communities they are trying to reach. A lot of the country that we need to reach are religious people, and nominally both Christians and leftists share a concern for helping those in need, so we should find some cultural common ground there.

We can leverage that overlap in values by partnering with churches. This immediately makes such work culturally legible to many who we most need to reach.

Jobs Jobs Jobs

When I raised this idea with Philip James, he had been mulling over similar ideas for a long time, but with a slightly different tack: free career skills workshops from folks who are obviously “non-traditional” with respect to the average rural voter’s cultural expectations. Recruit trans folks, black folks, women, and non-white immigrants from our tech networks.

Run the trainings over remote video conferencing to make volunteering more accessible. Run those workshops through churches as a distribution network.

There is good evidence that this sort of prolonged contact and direct exposure to outgroups, to help people see others as human beings, very effective politically.

However, job skills training is by no means the only benefit we could bring. There are lots of other services we could offer remotely, particularly with the skills that we in the tech community could offer. I offer this as an initial suggestion; if you have more ideas I’d love to hear them. I think the best ideas are ones where folks can opt in, things that feel like bettering oneself rather than receiving charity; nobody likes getting handouts, particularly from the outgroup, but getting help to improve your own skills feels more participatory.

I do think that free breakfast for children, specifically, might be something to start with because people are far more willing to accept gifts to benefit others (particularly their children, or the elderly!) rather than themselves.

Take Credit

Doing good works in the community isn’t enough. We need to do visible good works. Attributable good works.

We don’t want to be assholes about it, but we do want to make sure that these benefits are clearly labeled. We do not want to attach an obligation to any charitable project, but we do want to attach something to indicate where it came from.

I don’t know what that “something” should be. The most important thing is that whatever “something” is appeals to set of partially-overlapping cultures that I am not really a part of — Midwestern, rural, southern, exurban, working class, “red state” — and thus, I would want to hear from people from those cultures about what works best.

But it’s got to be something.

Maybe it’s a little sticker, “brought to you by progressives and liberals. we care about you!”. Maybe it’s a subtle piece of consistent branding or graphic design, like a stylized blue stripe. Maybe we need to avoid the word “democrats”, or even “progressive” or “liberal”, and need some independent brand for such a thing, that is clearly tenuously connected but not directly; like the Coalition of Liberal and Leftist Helpful Neighbors or something.

Famously, when Trump sent everybody a check from the government, he put his name on it. Joe Biden did the same thing, and Democrats seem to think it’s a good thing that he didn’t take credit because it “wasn’t about advancing politics”, even though this obviously backfired. Republicans constantly take credit for the benefits of Democratic policies, which is one reason why voters don’t know they’re democratic policies.

Our broad left-liberal coalition is attempting to improve people’s material conditions. Part of that is, and must be, advancing a political agenda. It’s no good if we provide job trainings and free lunches to a community if that community is just going to be reduced to ruin by economically catastrophic tariffs and mass deportations.

We cannot do this work just for the credit, but getting credit is important.

Let’s You And Me — Yes YOU — Get Started

I think this is a good idea, but I am not the right person to lead it.

For one thing, building this type of organization requires a lot of organizational and leadership skills that are not really my forte. Even the idea of filing the paperwork for a new 501(c)3 right now sounds like rolling Sisyphus’s rock up the hill to me.

For another, we need folks who are connected to this culture, in ways that I am not. I would be happy to be involved — I do have some relevant technical skills to help with infrastructure, and I could always participate in some of the job-training stuff, and I can definitely donate a bit of money to a nonprofit, but I don’t think I can be in charge.

You can definitely help too, and we will need a wide variety of skills to begin with, and it will definitely need money. Maybe you can help me figure out who should be in charge.

This project will be weaker without your support. Thus: I need to hear from you.

You can email me, or, if you’d prefer a more secure channel, feel free to reach out over Signal, where my introduction code is glyph.99 . Please start the message with “good works:” so I can easily identify conversations about this.

If I receive any interest at all, I plan to organize some form of meeting within the next 30 days to figure out concrete next steps.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my patrons who are supporting my writing on this blog. If you like what you’ve read here and you’d like to read more things like it, or you’d like to support my various open-source endeavors, you can support my work as a sponsor! My aspirations for this support are more in the directions of software development than activism, but needs must, when the devil drives. Thanks especially to Philip James for both refining the idea and helping to edit this post, and to Marley Myrianthopoulos for assistance with the data analysis.

If a high-status member of a community that you participate in is accused of misbehavior, you may want to defend them. You may even write a long essay in their defense.

In that essay, it may seem only natural to begin with a lengthy enumeration of the accused’s positive personal qualities. To extol the quality of their career and their contributions to your community. To talk about how nice they are. To be a character witness in the court of public opinion.

If you do this, you are not defending them. You are proving the point. This is exactly how missing stairs come to exist. People don’t get away with bad behavior if they don’t have high status and a good reputation already.

Sometimes, someone with antisocial inclinations seeks out status, in order to facilitate their bad behavior. Sometimes, a good, but, flawed person does a lot of really good work and thereby accidentally ends up with more status than they were expecting to have, and they don’t know how to handle it. In either case, bad behavior may ensue.

If you truly believe that your fave is being accused or punished unjustly, focus on the facts. What, specifically, has been alleged? How are these allegations substantiated? What verifiable evidence exists to the contrary? If you feel that someone is falsely accusing them to ruin their reputation, is there evidence to support your claim that the accusation is false? Ask yourself the question: what information do you have, that is leading to your correct analysis of the situation, that the people making the accusations do not have, which might be leading them into error?

But, also, maybe just… don’t?

The urge to defend someone like this is much more likely to come from a sense of personal grievance than justice. Consider: does it feel like you are being attacked, when your fave has been attacked? Is there a tightness in your chest, heat rising on your cheeks? Do you feel suddenly defensive?

Do you think that defensiveness is likely to lead to you making good, rational decisions about what steps to take next?

Let your heroes face accountability. If they are really worth your admiration, they might accept responsibility and make amends. Or they might fight the accusations with their own real evidence — evidence that you, someone peripheral to their situation, are unlikely to have — and prove the accusations wrong.

They might not want your defense. Even if they feel like they do want it in the moment — they are human too, after all, and facing accountability does not feel good to us humans — is the intensified feeling that they can’t let down their supporters who believe in them likely to make them feel less defensive and panicked?

In either case, your character defense is unlikely to serve them. At best it helps them stay on an ego trip, at worst it muddies the waters and might confuse the collection of facts that would, if considered dispassionately, properly exonerate them.

Do you think that I am pretending to speak in generalities but really talking about one specific recent event?

Wrong!

Just in this last week, I have read 2 different blog posts about 2 completely different people in completely unrelated communities and both of their authors need to read this. But each of those were already of a type, one that I’ve read dozens of instances of in the past.

It is a very human impulse to perceive a threat to someone we think well of, and to try to defend against that threat. But the consequences of someone’s own actions are not a threat you can defend them from.

Humans are pattern-matching machines. As a species, it is our superpower. To summarize the core of my own epistemic philosophy, here is a brief list of the activities in the core main-loop of a human being:

1. stuff happens to us
2. we look for patterns in the stuff
3. we weave those patterns into narratives
4. we turn the narratives into models of the world
5. we predict what will happen based on those models
6. we do stuff based on those predictions
7. based on the stuff we did, more stuff happens to us; return to step 1

While this ability lets humans do lots of great stuff, like math and physics and agriculture and so on, we can just as easily build bad stories and bad models. We can easily trick ourselves into thinking that our predictive abilities are more powerful than they are.

The existence of magic-seeming levels of prediction in fields like chemistry and physics and statistics, in addition to the practical usefulness of rough estimates and heuristics in daily life, itself easily creates a misleading pattern. “I see all these patterns and make all these predictions and I’m right a lot of the time, so if I just kind of wing it and predict some more stuff, I’ll also be right about that stuff.”

This leaves us very vulnerable to things like mean world syndrome. Mean world syndrome itself is specifically about danger, but I believe it is a manifestation of an even broader phenomenon which I would term “the apophenia of despair”.

Confirmation bias is an inherent part of human cognition, but the internet has turbocharged it. Humans have immediate access to more information than we ever had in the past. In order to cope with that information, we have also built ways to filter that information. Even disregarding things like algorithmic engagement maximization and social media filter bubbles, the simple fact that when you search for things, you are a lot more likely to find the thing that you’re searching for than to find arguments refuting it, can provide a very strong sense that you’re right about whatever you’re researching.

All of this is to say: if you decide that something in the world is getting worse, you can very easily convince yourself that it is getting much, much worse, very rapidly. Especially because there are things which are, unambiguously, getting worse.

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However, Pollyanna-ism is just the same phenomenon in reverse and I don’t want to engage in that. The ice sheets really are melting, globally, fascism really is on the rise. I am not here to deny reality or to cherry pick a bunch of statistics to lull people into complacency.

I believe that while dwelling on a negative reality is bad, I also believe that in the face of constant denial, it is sometimes necessary to simply emphasize those realities, however unpleasant they may be. Distinguishing between unhelpful rumination on negativity and repetition of an unfortunate but important truth to correct popular perception is subjective and subtle, but the difference is nevertheless important.

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As our ability to acquire information about things getting worse has grown, our ability to affect those things has not. Knowledge is not power; power is power, and most of us don’t have a lot of it, so we need to be strategic in the way that we deploy our limited political capital and personal energy.

Overexposure to negative news can cause symptoms of depression; depressed people have reduced executive function and find it harder to do stuff. One of the most effective interventions against this general feeling of malaise? Hope.. Not “hope” in the sense of wishing. As this article in the American Psychological Association’s “Monitor on Psychology” puts it:

“We often use the word ‘hope’ in place of wishing, like you hope it rains today or you hope someone’s well,” said Chan Hellman, PhD, a professor of psychology and founding director of the Hope Research Center at the University of Oklahoma. “But wishing is passive toward a goal, and hope is about taking action toward it.”

Here, finally, I can get around to my point.

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If you have an audience, and you have some negative thoughts about some social trend, talking about it in a way which is vague and non-actionable is potentially quite harmful. If you are doing this, you are engaged in the political project of robbing a large number of people of hope. You are saying that the best should have less conviction, while the worst will surely remain just as full of passionate intensity.

I do not mean to say that it is unacceptable to ever publicly share thoughts of sadness, or even hopelessness. If everyone in public is forced to always put on a plastic smile and pretend that everything is going to be okay if we have grit and determination, then we have an Instagram culture of fake highlight reels where anyone having their own struggles with hopelessness will just feel even worse in their isolation. I certainly posted my way through my fair share of pretty bleak mental health issues during the worst of the pandemic.

But we should recognize that while sadness is a feeling, hopelessness is a problem, a bad reaction to that feeling, one that needs to be addressed if we are going to collectively dig ourselves out of the problem that creates the sadness in the first place. We may not be able to conjure hope all the time, but we should always be trying.

When we try to address these feelings, as I said earlier, Pollyanna-ism doesn’t help. The antidote to hopelessness is not optimism, but curiosity. If you have a strong thought like “people these days just don’t care about other people¹”, yelling “YES THEY DO” at yourself (or worse, your audience) is unlikely to make much of a change, and certainly not likely to be convincing to an audience. Instead, you could ask yourself some questions, and use them for a jumping-off point for some research:

1. Why do I think this — is the problem in my perception, or in the world?
2. If there is a problem in my perception, is this a common misperception? If it’s common, what is leading to it being common? If it’s unique to me, what sort of work do I need to do to correct it?
3. If the problem is real, what are its causes? Is there anything that I, or my audience, could do to address those causes?

The answers to these questions also inform step 6 of the process I outlined above: the doing stuff part of the process.

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At some level, all communication is persuasive communication. Everything you say that another person might hear, everything you say that a person might hear, is part of a sprachspiel where you are attempting to achieve something. There is always an implied call to action; even “do nothing, accept the status quo” is itself an action. My call to action right now is to ask you to never make your call to action “you should feel bad, and you should feel bad about feeling bad”. When you communicate in public, your words have power.

Use that power for good.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my patrons who are supporting my writing on this blog. If you like what you’ve read here and you’d like to read more of it, or you’d like to support my various open-source endeavors, you can support my work as a sponsor! Special thanks also to Cassandra Granade, who provided some editorial feedback on this post; any errors, of course, remain my own.

Today I saw a short YouTube video about “cozy games” and started writing a comment, then realized that this was somehow prompting me to write the most succinct summary of my own personal views on politics and economics that I have ever managed. So, here goes.

Apparently all I needed to trim down 50,000 words on my annoyance at how the term “capitalism” is frustratingly both a nexus for useful critque and also reductive thought-terminating clichés was to realize that Animal Crossing: New Horizons is closer to my views on political economy than anything Adam Smith or Karl Marx ever wrote.

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Cozy games illustrate that the core mechanics of capitalism are fun and motivating, in a laboratory environment. It’s fun to gather resources, to improve one’s skills, to engage in mutually beneficial exchanges, to collect things, to decorate. It’s tremendously motivating. Even merely pretending to do those things can captivate huge amounts of our time and attention.

In real life, people need to be motivated to do stuff. Not because of some moral deficiency, but because in a large complex civilization it’s hard to tell what needs doing. By the time it’s widely visible to a population-level democratic consensus of non-experts that there is an unmet need — for example, trash piling up on the street everywhere indicating a need for garbage collection — that doesn’t mean “time to pick up some trash”, it means “the sanitation system has collapsed, you’re probably going to get cholera”. We need a system that can identify utility signals more granularly and quickly, towards the edges of the social graph. To allow person A to earn “value credits” of some kind for doing work that others find valuable, then trade those in to person B for labor which they find valuable, even if it is not clearly obvious to anyone else why person A wants that thing. Hence: money.

So, a market can provide an incentive structure that productively steers people towards needs, by aggregating small price signals in a distributed way, via the communication technology of “money”. Authoritarian communist states are famously bad at this, overproducing “necessary” goods in ways that can hold their own with the worst excesses of capitalists, while under-producing “luxury” goods that are politically seen as frivolous.

This is the kernel of truth around which the hardcore capitalist bootstrap grindset ideologues build their fabulist cinematic universe of cruelty. Markets are motivating, they reason, therefore we must worship the market as a god and obey its every whim. Markets can optimize some targets, therefore we must allow markets to optimize every target. Markets efficiently allocate resources, and people need resources to live, therefore anyone unable to secure resources in a market is undeserving of life. Thus we begin at “market economies provide some beneficial efficiencies” and after just a bit of hand-waving over some inconvenient details, we get to “thus, we must make the poor into a blood-sacrifice to Moloch, otherwise nobody will ever work, and we will all die, drowning in our own laziness”. “The cruelty is the point” is a convenient phrase, but among those with this worldview, the prosperity is the point; they just think the cruelty is the only engine that can possibly drive it.

Cozy games are therefore a centrist¹ critique of capitalism. They present a world with the prosperity, but without the cruelty. More importantly though, by virtue of the fact that people actually play them in large numbers, they demonstrate that the cruelty is actually unnecessary.

You don’t need to play a cozy game. Tom Nook is not going to evict you from your real-life house if you don’t give him enough bells when it’s time to make rent. In fact, quite the opposite: you have to take time away from your real-life responsibilities and work, in order to make time for such a game. That is how motivating it is to engage with a market system in the abstract, with almost exclusively positive reinforcement.

What cozy games are showing us is that a world with tons of “free stuff” — universal basic income, universal health care, free education, free housing — will not result in a breakdown of our society because “no one wants to work”. People love to work.

If we can turn the market into a cozy game, with low stakes and a generous safety net, more people will engage with it, not fewer. People are not lazy; laziness does not exist. The motivation that people need from a market economy is not a constant looming threat of homelessness, starvation and death for themselves and their children, but a fun opportunity to get a five-star island rating.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my patrons who are supporting my writing on this blog. If you like what you’ve read here and you’d like to read more of it, or you’d like to support my various open-source endeavors, you can support my work as a sponsor!

Facebook — and by extension, most of Silicon Valley — rightly gets a lot of shit for its old motto, “Move Fast and Break Things”.

As a general principle for living your life, it is obviously terrible advice, and it leads to a lot of the horrific outcomes of Facebook’s business.

I don’t want to be an apologist for Facebook. I also do not want to excuse the worldview that leads to those kinds of outcomes. However, I do want to try to help laypeople understand how software engineers—particularly those situated at the point in history where this motto became popular—actually meant by it. I would like more people in the general public to understand why, to engineers, it was supposed to mean roughly the same thing as Facebook’s newer, goofier-sounding “Move fast with stable infrastructure”.

Move Slow

In the bad old days, circa 2005, two worlds within the software industry were colliding.

The old world was the world of integrated hardware/software companies, like IBM and Apple, and shrink-wrapped software companies like Microsoft and WordPerfect. The new world was software-as-a-service companies like Google, and, yes, Facebook.

In the old world, you delivered software in a physical, shrink-wrapped box, on a yearly release cycle. If you were really aggressive you might ship updates as often as quarterly, but faster than that and your physical shipping infrastructure would not be able to keep pace with new versions. As such, development could proceed in long phases based on those schedules.

In practice what this meant was that in the old world, when development began on a new version, programmers would go absolutely wild adding incredibly buggy, experimental code to see what sorts of things might be possible in a new version, then slowly transition to less coding and more testing, eventually settling into a testing and bug-fixing mode in the last few months before the release.

This is where the idea of “alpha” (development testing) and “beta” (user testing) versions came from. Software in that initial surge of unstable development was extremely likely to malfunction or even crash. Everyone understood that. How could it be otherwise? In an alpha test, the engineers hadn’t even started bug-fixing yet!

In the new world, the idea of a 6-month-long “beta test” was incoherent. If your software was a website, you shipped it to users every time they hit “refresh”. The software was running 24/7, on hardware that you controlled. You could be adding features at every minute of every day. And, now that this was possible, you needed to be adding those features, or your users would get bored and leave for your competitors, who would do it.

But this came along with a new attitude towards quality and reliability. If you needed to ship a feature within 24 hours, you couldn’t write a buggy version that crashed all the time, see how your carefully-selected group of users used it, collect crash reports, fix all the bugs, have a feature-freeze and do nothing but fix bugs for a few months. You needed to be able to ship a stable version of your software on Monday and then have another stable version on Tuesday.

To support this novel sort of development workflow, the industry developed new technologies. I am tempted to tell you about them all. Unit testing, continuous integration servers, error telemetry, system monitoring dashboards, feature flags... this is where a lot of my personal expertise lies. I was very much on the front lines of the “new world” in this conflict, trying to move companies to shorter and shorter development cycles, and move away from the legacy worldview of Big Release Day engineering.

Old habits die hard, though. Most engineers at this point were trained in a world where they had months of continuous quality assurance processes after writing their first rough draft. Such engineers feel understandably nervous about being required to ship their probably-buggy code to paying customers every day. So they would try to slow things down.

Of course, when one is deploying all the time, all other things being equal, it’s easy to ship a show-stopping bug to customers. Organizations would do this, and they’d get burned. And when they’d get burned, they would introduce Processes to slow things down. Some of these would look like:

1. Let’s keep a special version of our code set aside for testing, and then we’ll test that for a few weeks before sending it to users.
2. The heads of every department need to sign-off on every deployed version, so everyone needs to spend a day writing up an explanation of their changes.
3. QA should sign off too, so let’s have an extensive sign-off process where each individual tester does a fills out a sign-off form.

Then there’s my favorite version of this pattern, where management decides that deploys are inherently dangerous, and everyone should probably just stop doing them. It typically proceeds in stages:

1. Let’s have a deploy freeze, and not deploy on Fridays; don’t want to mess up the weekend debugging an outage.
2. Actually, let’s extend that freeze for all of December, we don’t want to mess up the holiday shopping season.
3. Actually why not have the freeze extend into the end of November? Don’t want to mess with Thanksgiving and the Black Friday weekend.
4. Some of our customers are in India, and Diwali’s also a big deal. Why not extend the freeze from the end of October?
5. But, come to think of it, we do a fair amount of seasonal sales for Halloween too. How about no deployments from October 10 onward?
6. You know what, sometimes people like to use our shop for Valentine’s day too. Let’s just never deploy again.

This same anti-pattern can repeat itself with an endlessly proliferating list of “environments”, whose main role ends up being to ensure that no code ever makes it to actual users.

… and break things anyway

As you may have begun to suspect, there are a few problems with this style of software development.

Even back in the bad old days of the 90s when you had to ship disks in boxes, this methodology contained within itself the seeds of its own destruction. As Joel Spolsky memorably put it, Microsoft discovered that this idea that you could introduce a ton of bugs and then just fix them later came along with some massive disadvantages:

The very first version of Microsoft Word for Windows was considered a “death march” project. It took forever. It kept slipping. The whole team was working ridiculous hours, the project was delayed again, and again, and again, and the stress was incredible. [...] The story goes that one programmer, who had to write the code to calculate the height of a line of text, simply wrote “return 12;” and waited for the bug report to come in [...]. The schedule was merely a checklist of features waiting to be turned into bugs. In the post-mortem, this was referred to as “infinite defects methodology”.

Which lead them to what is perhaps the most ironclad law of software engineering:

In general, the longer you wait before fixing a bug, the costlier (in time and money) it is to fix.

A corollary to this is that the longer you wait to discover a bug, the costlier it is to fix.

Some bugs can be found by code review. So you should do code review. Some bugs can be found by automated tests. So you should do automated testing. Some bugs will be found by monitoring dashboards, so you should have monitoring dashboards.

So why not move fast?

But here is where Facebook’s old motto comes in to play. All of those principles above are true, but here are two more things that are true:

1. No matter how much code review, automated testing, and monitoring you have some bugs can only be found by users interacting with your software.
2. No bugs can be found merely by slowing down and putting the deploy off another day.

Once you have made the process of releasing software to users sufficiently safe that the potential damage of any given deployment can be reliably limited, it is always best to release your changes to users as quickly as possible.

More importantly, as an engineer, you will naturally have an inherent fear of breaking things. If you make no changes, you cannot be blamed for whatever goes wrong. Particularly if you grew up in the Old World, there is an ever-present temptation to slow down, to avoid shipping, to hold back your changes, just in case.

You will want to move slow, to avoid breaking things. Better to do nothing, to be useless, than to do harm.

For all its faults as an organization, Facebook did, and does, have some excellent infrastructure to avoid breaking their software systems in response to features being deployed to production. In that sense, they’d already done the work to avoid the “harm” of an individual engineer’s changes. If future work needed to be performed to increase safety, then that work should be done by the infrastructure team to make things safer, not by every other engineer slowing down.

The problem is that slowing down is not actually value neutral. To quote myself here:

If you can’t ship a feature, you can’t fix a bug.

When you slow down just for the sake of slowing down, you create more problems.

The first problem that you create is smashing together far too many changes at once.

You’ve got a development team. Every engineer on that team is adding features at some rate. You want them to be doing that work. Necessarily, they’re all integrating them into the codebase to be deployed whenever the next deployment happens.

If a problem occurs with one of those changes, and you want to quickly know which change caused that problem, ideally you want to compare two versions of the software with the smallest number of changes possible between them. Ideally, every individual change would be released on its own, so you can see differences in behavior between versions which contain one change each, not a gigantic avalanche of changes where any one of hundred different features might be the culprit.

If you slow down for the sake of slowing down, you also create a process that cannot respond to failures of the existing code.

I’ve been writing thus far as if a system in a steady state is inherently fine, and each change carries the possibility of benefit but also the risk of failure. This is not always true. Changes don’t just occur in your software. They can happen in the world as well, and your software needs to be able to respond to them.

Back to that holiday shopping season example from earlier: if your deploy freeze prevents all deployments during the holiday season to prevent breakages, what happens when your small but growing e-commerce site encounters a catastrophic bug that has always been there, but only occurs when you have more than 10,000 concurrent users. The breakage is coming from new, never before seen levels of traffic. The breakage is coming from your success, not your code. You’d better be able to ship a fix for that bug real fast, because your only other option to a fast turn-around bug-fix is shutting down the site entirely.

And if you see this failure for the first time on Black Friday, that is not the moment where you want to suddenly develop a new process for deploying on Friday. The only way to ensure that shipping that fix is easy is to ensure that shipping any fix is easy. That it’s a thing your whole team does quickly, all the time.

The motto “Move Fast And Break Things” caught on with a lot of the rest of Silicon Valley because we are all familiar with this toxic, paralyzing fear.

After we have the safety mechanisms in place to make changes as safe as they can be, we just need to push through it, and accept that things might break, but that’s OK.

Some Important Words are Missing

The motto has an implicit preamble, “Once you have done the work to make broken things safe enough, then you should move fast and break things”.

When you are in a conflict about whether to “go fast” or “go slow”, the motto is not supposed to be telling you that the answer is an unqualified “GOTTA GO FAST”. Rather, it is an exhortation to take a beat and to go through a process of interrogating your motivation for slowing down. There are three possible things that a person saying “slow down” could mean about making a change:

1. It is broken in a way you already understand. If this is the problem, then you should not make the change, because you know it’s not ready. If you already know it’s broken, then the change simply isn’t done. Finish the work, and ship it to users when it’s finished.
2. It is risky in a way that you don’t have a way to defend against. As far as you know, the change works, but there’s a risk embedded in it that you don’t have any safety tools to deal with. If this is the issue, then what you should do is pause working on this change, and build the safety first.
3. It is making you nervous in a way you can’t articulate. If you can’t describe an known defect as in point 1, and you can’t outline an improved safety control as in step 2, then this is the time to let go, accept that you might break something, and move fast.

The implied context for “move fast and break things” is only in that third condition. If you’ve already built all the infrastructure that you can think of to build, and you’ve already fixed all the bugs in the change that you need to fix, any further delay will not serve you, do not have any further delays.

Unfortunately, as you probably already know,

This motto did a lot of good in its appropriate context, at its appropriate time. It’s still a useful heuristic for engineers, if the appropriate context is generally understood within the conversation where it is used.

However, it has clearly been taken to mean a lot of significantly more damaging things.

Purely from an engineering perspective, it has been reasonably successful. It’s less and less common to see people in the industry pushing back against tight deployment cycles. It’s also less common to see the basic safety mechanisms (version control, continuous integration, unit testing) get ignored. And many ex-Facebook engineers have used this motto very clearly under the understanding I’ve described here.

Even in the narrow domain of software engineering it is misused. I’ve seen it used to argue a project didn’t need tests; that a deploy could be forced through a safety process; that users did not need to be informed of a change that could potentially impact them personally.

Outside that domain, it’s far worse. It’s generally understood to mean that no safety mechanisms are required at all, that any change a software company wants to make is inherently justified because it’s OK to “move fast”. You can see this interpretation in the way that it has leaked out of Facebook’s engineering culture and suffused its entire management strategy, blundering through market after market and issue after issue, making catastrophic mistakes, making a perfunctory apology and moving on to the next massive harm.

In the decade since it has been retired as Facebook’s official motto, it has been used to defend some truly horrific abuses within the tech industry. You only need to visit the orange website to see it still being used this way.

Even at its best, “move fast and break things” is an engineering heuristic, it is not an ethical principle. Even within the context I’ve described, it’s only okay to move fast and break things. It is never okay to move fast and harm people.

So, while I do think that it is broadly misunderstood by the public, it’s still not a thing I’d ever say again. Instead, I propose this:

Make it safer, don’t make it later.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my patrons who are supporting my writing on this blog. If you like what you’ve read here and you’d like to read more of it, or you’d like to support my various open-source endeavors, you can support my work as a sponsor! I am also available for consulting work if you think your organization could benefit from expertise on topics like “how do I make changes to my codebase, but, like, good ones”.