This blog entry is structured in two main parts: The prologue sets the tone, but may be irritating because it doesn’t talk about the book itself. If you get irritated or know the topic well enough to skip it, you can jump to the second part when I talk about the book. It is indicated by a TL;DR summary of the prologue.
Prologue
Imagine a world where the last 25 years of computer game development didn’t happen. A world where we get the power of 5 GHz octacore computers and 128 GB of RAM, but nobody thought about 3D graphics or interaction design. The graphics of computer games is so rudimentary, it consists of ASCII art and color. In this world, two brothers develop a game that simulates a whole fantasy world with all details, in three dimensions. The game is an instant blockbuster hit and spawns multiple cinematic adaptions.
This world never happened. The only thing that seems to be from this world is the game itself: Dwarf Fortress. An ASCII art sandbox simulation of a bunch of dwarves that dig into the (three-dimensional) mountains and inevitably discover the fun in magma. Dwarf Fortress is a game told by stories, not graphics. It burdens the player to micro-manage a whole settlement down to the individual sock – Yes, no plural. There are left socks and right socks and they are different entities with a different story. Dwarves can literally go mad because they miss their favorite left sock and you didn’t notice in time. And you have to control all aspects of the settlement not by direct order, but by giving hints and suggestions through an user interface that is a game of riddles on its own.
Dwarf Fortress is an impossible game. It seems so out of time and touch with current gaming reality that you can only shake your head on first contact. But, it is incredibly deep and well-designed and, most surprising, provides the kind player with endless fun. This game actually works!
TL;DR: Just because something seems odd at first contact doesn’t mean it cannot work. Go and play Dwarf Fortress!
The book
John Ousterhout is a professor teaching software design at the Stanford university and writes software for decades now. In 1988, he invented the Tcl programming language. He got a lot of awards, including the Grace Murray Hopper Award. You can say that he knows what he’s doing and what he talks about. In 2018, he wrote a book with the title “A Philosophy of Software Design”. This book is a peculiar gem besides titles with a similar topic.
Imagine a world where the last 20 years of software development books didn’t happen. One man creates software for his whole life and writes down his thoughts and insights, structured in tactical advices, strategic approaches and an overarching philosophy. He has to invent some new vocabulary to express his ideas. He talks about how he performs programming – and it is nothing like today’s mainstream. In fact, it is sometimes the exact opposite of today’s best practices. But, it is incredibly insightful and well-structured and, most surprising, provides the kind developer with endless fun. Okay, I admit, the latter part of the previous sentence was speculative.
This is a book that seems a bit out of touch with today’s mainstream doctrine – and that’s a good thing. The book begins by defining some vocabulary, like the notion of complexity or the concept of deepness. That is rare by itself, most books just use established words to deliver a message. If you think about the definitions, they will probably enrich your perception of software design. They enriched mine, and I talk about software design to students for nearly twenty years now.
The most obvious thing that is different from other books with similar content: Most other books talk about behaviours, best practices and advices. Then they throw a buch of prohibitions in the mix. This isn’t wrong, but it’s “just” anecdotal knowledge. It is your job as the reader to discern between things that may have worked in the past, but are outdated and things that will continue to work in the future. The real question is left unanswered: Why is it so?
“A Philosophy of Software Design” begins by answering the “why” question. If you want to build an hierarchy of book wisdom depth, this might serve as one:
- Tactical wisdom: What should be done? Most beginner’s books work on this level. They show exactly what goes on, but go easy on the bigger questions.
- Strategic wisdom: How should it be done? This is the level that the majority of good software design books work on. They give insights about your work ethics and principles you should abide by.
- Philosphical wisdom: Why should it be done? The reviewed book begins on this level. It explains the aspects of software and sourcecode that work against human perception and understanding and shows ways to avoid or at least diminish those aspects.
The book doesn’t stay on the philosophical level for long and dives deep into the “how” and “what” areas later on. But it does so with the background of an established “why”. And that’s a great reminder that even if you disagree with a specific “what” (or “how”), you should think about the root cause of your disagreement, not just anecdotes.
The author and the book aren’t as out-of-touch with current software development reality as you might think. There is a whole chapter addressed to current “software trends” like agile development and unit tests. It has a total page count of six pages and doesn’t go into details. But it at least mentions the things it doesn’t talk about.
Conclusion
My biggest learning point from the book for my personal habits as a developer is to write more code comments in the way the book proposes. Yes, you’ve read that right. The book urges you to write more comments – but good ones. It talks about why you should write more comments. It gives you extensive guidelines as to how good comments are written and some examples what these comments look like. After two decades of “write more (unit) tests!”, the message of “write more comments!” is unique and noteworthy. Perhaps we can improve our tools to better support comments in the same way they improved support for tests in the last years.
Perhaps we cannot solve our problems with the sourcecode by writing more sourcecode (unit tests). Perhaps we need to rely on something different. I will give it a try.
You might want to give the book “A Philosophy of Software Design” a try. It’s worth your time and thoughts.

If we were to choose the holy book of software development, we probably couldn’t agree on one or even a dozen titles. And that is a good thing, because there is no one true way of software development. Clean Code by Robert C. Martin would maybe show up in the late contenders. But if we were to choose the most preachy book of software development, well, I have a favorite. This book is so loud that you cannot ignore it. And it is so opinionated that you’re either nodding your head like a heavy metal fan or writhing in averseness. That’s a good thing, too. Because it forces you to think. Your immediate emotional answer needs support by rational arguments and this book will provide you with ample opportunity to gather arguments for your consent or rejection. What this book probably won’t do is leave you unaffected. When it came out in 2008, it was an instant classic. You could spice up any gathering of software developers by making a statement about this book, be it pro or contra. And even today, ten years later, I would say that even if the loudness is deafening, the clarity of the messages makes this book a worthwhile read for every software developer. My grief with it is foremost that for a book called “Clean Code”, some examples of actual code are quite dirty or even plain wrong. Read it with an active mind and it will be a cornerstone of your professional career. But be careful, it seems that currently printed instances have physical quality problems.
Ever since Extreme Programming hit the (european) scene in 1999, I was curious about Test Driven Development (TDD). I tried automated testing and unit tests whenever I could, read books and later watched videos about the topic. But I never grokked it. It just didn’t work for me and I didn’t even know why. My most feared trap was the one-two-everything syndrome, where you write two simple tests and then have to implement the whole algorithm to fulfill the third test. It was always the third test that broke my rhythm. I tried to exchange experience with TDD practitioners, but their own examples were mostly trivial and my examples always led nowhere (for reference: Try a simple Game of Life in TDD style). I felt dumb and inadequate. When Robert C. Martin (the author of Clean Code) told the developer world that you are either “TDD or not professional” (read
Some years after the GOOS experience, another summer beach holiday was due and as usual, I included a software development book in my luggage. “Domain Driven Design” by Eric Evans came out in 2003 and was praised by some and ignored by most, including me. It took me ten years to finally read it and when I did, it hit me hard. Since my early days as a programmer, I tried to build a meaningful data model with actual types for each program I developed. But it occurred to me that I did it half-heartedly all the time. It shouldn’t stop at a data model, it should be a complete domain model. And for that to work, you need to grok the domain. I review a lot of my code before that insight and always find it funny how I invested effort in my models but more often than not stayed in the technical realm. I cannot say that my programming has changed much from the book, as most concepts meandered through the community since 2003 and were picked up by me mostly under different names. But my software development approach has changed dramatically. I don’t start my thinking from the technical side anymore. And that helps with “business alignment” and all the other magic words that finally have real tangible benefit. And I can now pinpoint when that alignment loosens and employ counter-measures instead of ending up in a special case hell. The best thing was that this book doesn’t require a laptop so I got to sit on the beach that summer with the book in my hands and my head in the clouds. It might be old, but it’s still gold.
I anxiously waited for this book to be printed. Not because I pre-ordered, but because I held talks, workshops and lectures about the topic before the book was available. And I wanted to make sure that I’m not telling nonsense. But Robert C. Martin took his time and delayed the deadline month after month. Then, nearly a year later, the book reached the stores in late 2017. So I would have to wait for my winter holiday to read it. I couldn’t wait and began right away. The book is a slow burner and feels like a long introduction. By the time the central proposition is revealed (and yes, it reads like good unagitated spy thriller at times), you’ve probably already figured it out yourself. And that’s a good thing in my mind, because it feels as if it was your idea and Uncle Bob is just there to nod and congratulate you for your intellect. This book is so many times less preachy than “Clean Code”. If we compare spy thriller literature, this is a John le Carré while Clean Code would be an Ian Fleming (James Bond). “Clean Architecture” is not about programming, it talks about software architecture, a topic that I missed greatly in my early developer years. I liked this book so much
All the other books talk about different aspects of programming, software development or related technical topics. But what about a book that raises a simple question: “Why is IT technology so complicated?”. And gives the answer: “Because we want it this way.”. That’s actually true. In a world without most of the restrictions of the physical world, we were unable to build solutions that actually helped us and came up with machines and software that overwhelmed most people. It needed a whole new generation of “digital natives” until concepts like internal operation modes (e.g. insert vs. overwrite) were intuitively understood. Not because they became simpler, we were just used to the complexity. Alan Cooper described the problem and gave at least hints for solutions in 1999, nearly 20 years ago. That’s the timespan of a generation. This book made me think hard about the status quo I silently had accepted with technology. It just was like it was, what else could there be? If I reveal a tiny bit of different approaches I can think of now, I’m often confronted with incomprehension. Not because I’m particularly clever and everyone else is dumb, but because there seems to be no problem if you’ve grown accustomed to it. If you want to see some of the pain other (older) people feel when interacting with technology and software, read this book. It is an eye-opener to common problems no software developer ever had. It is the first step into the world of UX (user experience), where it’s not as important if the developer feels alright but if the user feels at least adequate. It might be a classic and feel a bit outdated and weak on the solution side, but to understand the problem properly is the first step to appreciate possible answers. And Alan Cooper didn’t stop there. Read his
More by chance, my co-founder stumbled upon “
In 2004, Michael Feathers wrote a book that contains his 20+ years of experience with software development and named it “
Martin Fowler was a very productive author in the late nineties. I’ve read most of his books from this period, if maybe with a few years delay. “
Since the late 80’s, Tom DeMarco and Timothy Lister wrote one book after the other. Each book describes a common business-oriented problem and at least one working solution for it. And yet, the very same problems still persist in the business world. It’s as if nobody reads books. “