Rachel joined a new team which was proudly "metrics driven". When she first met with her boss, Zane, he explained his thinking.
"We need to be data-driven to make good decisions, right? We're a manufacturing company. We make widgets. At the end of the day, we need to make the most widgets for the lowest cost of goods sold. So we track that, and that feeds into every decision."
The team oversaw an automated production line, which meant the software was a mix of robotics, embedded firmware, high-level web based monitoring tools, and thickets of dreaded PLC code. And because you can't build an entire factory for test purposes, they only way they could test real-world scales with real-world data was to roll changes out to production. They could simulate, they could run tests on subsets of the system, but a change in the production line software couldn't truly be validated until it rolled out into the real world.
Rachel's first task on the new team involved making some changes to their metrics dashboard. It was viewed as a good way to get her feet wet with the new team. As it turned out, the metrics dashboard was a Google Sheet, with a complex series of formulas that involved multi-level INDEX functions- essentially querying the spreadsheets like they were a database. Why not use an actual database? Oh, they did — six actually — but the company obeyed Remy's Law of Requirements Gathering: "no matter what the requirements the users ask for, what they really wanted was Excel". The database data was pulled into the spreadsheet for reporting.
Now, a complicated sheet pulling in data from not one, but six different databases, they must have a pretty complex model to explain how changes to their software would impact productivity. And since they needed to model the software to make predictions about how it'd behave in production, that model must be extremely useful.
Of course it wasn't. The only metrics they tracked were output metrics, variations on "widgets produced per unit time". There were some performance metrics, so you could maybe potentially identify "oh, our overall throughput dropped because unit 5 became a bottleneck and started taking 1.5 extra seconds per widget", but nothing that actually helped you understand how the complex system made decisions. Or even why unit 5 was taking longer.
For example, there was an automated quality control scanner. It examined widgets as they came off the line, and rejected defective ones based on a computer vision algorithm. Did that subsystem record why it rejected a widget? No, it did not. The CV model was able to tag widgets with a defect category based on what it saw, but that information didn't get recorded anywhere. In fact, it didn't even record how many widgets got rejected. The only way to know was to have an operator on the assembly line count widgets in the bin manually. Since that ate up a bunch of an operator's time, it never happened unless the developers begged for it. And since the operator still couldn't answer the question "why was this widget rejected", it wasn't all that useful anyway.
Every change to the software was scored against the overall output metrics. This meant that when Rachel was ready to push out her first software change, something that would record how many widgets were rejected and why, whether or not it could be deployed was dependent on seeing the change improve, or at least not regress, the widgets-over-time scores. But the widgets-over-time were a noisy metric; it varied based on which operators were working any given shift, or based on supply chain constraints. Or sometimes, based on when one of the machines was last calibrated- theoretically something that happened on a set schedule, but really was up to the operators. This meant the first three times Rachel rolled her code out for a test run, the metrics regressed. Nothing she changed should have impacted the metrics, but the metrics regressed due to environmental issues.
This meant making a simple change could take weeks, because you could only do final validation on the real system, which means you had to mark off a block of time for a test run, you could only run a handful of tests a day, and if metrics regressed you had to account for that before you could release the software for actual production use.
Over the first few months, Rachel added instrumentation to the code. Anything along the way to generating an output widget, she recorded. The hope was that once they had enough data, they could build a useful model of the system. Unfortunately, Zane had other ideas.
"So, you haven't improved our metrics," Zane said. "Which, I remind you, we're a metrics driven organization. Every change needs to improve our metrics."
"Sure, but I'm gathering more data so we have a better idea of what makes our metrics tick. We don't know why our system does some of the things it does, because we don't record any logging about the decisions it makes."
"Right, but we already gather the key metrics."
"But you don't gather the data that tells you why those metrics are what they are!"
"Sure," Zane said. "But those aren't our key metrics."
That, unfortunately for Rachel, was where things landed. Understanding their complex system was a low priority. Pushing top-level metrics without understanding what fed into them, that was the priority. That didn't mean Rachel was powerless: any time she made a change that she thought might help the top level metrics, she also made sure to add instrumentation that explained how that change behaved. It was the compromise that kept Zane happy: she released features that impacted the top-level metrics, but she also made the system more observable.