This video of a presentation by Glenn Vanderburg entitled Real Software Engineering came up last week during one of those periodic flurries of contrary opinion on Twitter regarding whether or not software development is, or is not engineering. Glenn's 51 minute talk explains why, after after having made a painstaking, convincing case that what we do do is utterly unlike what any other known engineering discipline does, he nonetheless aligns himself with the "pro" engineering perspective.
It's a well-prepared and delivered piece, and well worth your time. He opens by acknowledging something that anyone who has been in this field for long already knows: that the kind of Software Engineering that has been taught in Computer Science programs for the last forty years has been hopeless, comically out of touch with day-to-day software development reality.
His opening examination of where "Software Engineering" went astray is particularly compelling; he does so by going back and examining some primary sources. For instance, the legendary NATO the 1968 meeting that established the field had some moments that seemingly foreshadowed today's Agile orthodoxy, before heading off into into the weeds for a generation the next year. Winston Royce has evidently been saying, for 42 years, that his original waterfall paper has been tragically misunderstood. Glenn makes a good case that this is so. You may, of course, actually read the paper and decide for yourself. Parnas's A Rational Design Process: How and Why to Fake it is here too. Glenn has some fresh background on Parnas's use of the term "rational".
I thought I caught a welcome, albeit uncredited whiff of Petroski in the second part of the talk, where he describes how science, and art, mathematics, craft, tradition, and empiricism guide what real engineers really do. And no talk on the limits of engineering would be complete without an appearance from Galloping Gertie
I particularly enjoyed Glenn's treatment of of the perennial and enduring mis-perception of the roles of engineers and coders that the industry inherited from its lengthy flirtation with the waterfall model. This conceit went something like this: The "real" engineering effort involved in engineering software is in the design, not the implementation. Hence, design must be something distinct, something more demanding, than mere coding. The software engineers job then, was produce, from a given set of requirements, some artifact that could be "thrown over the wall" to the coders for "construction".
Of course, this analogy is off. The design of the program itself is the part of this process that is akin to automotive or aircraft design. Construction, building, or fabrication is the process of reproducing the shrink-wrapped media, or invoking and executing the application over the web. For aeronautical engineers, fabricating each individual remains aircraft is quite expensive. Though software engineering began during an era of pocket-protectors and mechanical pencils where CPU were still scarce, fabrication for us now is essentially free. Given this perspective, Glenn continues, the folks dismissed as blue-collar coders in the waterfall pecking order are the real engineers. Because engineering is about making stuff that works. And it is with this contention than Vanderburg rests his case.
Which is fine, as far as it goes. I guess, after all that, I feel less obligated to align myself with the engineering fraternity than does Glenn, given how different making software turned out to be from the other disciplines he showcased, but that's probably a matter of taste. I'm just not sure I have a dog in it. There are lots of disciplines that deliver stuff that works besides engineering: cinema, pharmaceuticals, agriculture, bakeries, blacksmiths, composers, ... I could go on. What might we yet learn by analogy from disciplines outside our mathematics and engineerings roots?
Of course, the other great unspoken truth about the software engineering tradition in Computer Science has been that software engineering has always really focused on the admittedly considerable challenges associated with managing, organizing, and yes, even leading a large, infantry scale industrial organization whose objective it is to produce software, often to the detriment of the more technical issues of interest to those in the trenches.
Ironically, one of the successes of the Agile movement has been encourage the emergence of more antonymous "commando" scale units within the kinds of World War II Era waterfall shops that had dominated the industry.
Indeed, these hierarchical corporate traditions, the clashes of these kinds of cultures with the agile mindset, and the daunting demands of scale are all issues that might have merited additional examination, and that continue to the contribute to the perception that software engineering is out-of-touch.