Tobias Mayer, who I respect very much, recently put his thoughts about ScrumMasters into a blog post. The post that can be summarized best by its title: Delete [ScrumMasters]. The strongest point of the post goes as follows:

“I believe the concept of ScrumMaster has done more damage to our industry than it has aided in change. It has been a way for individuals and organizations to jump on the Agile band wagon, in a mostly painless way (discounting severe certification costs) and continue to do much as they were doing before.”

It isn’t a surprise for me that the post gained a lot of traction. Many experienced leaders in our community have quickly supported Tobias’ crusade.

I haven’t.

I agree with vast majority of what Tobias has written. I like the diagnosis he makes. I even believe we should be told such things by our thought-leaders. Yet I don’t jump on the bandwagon of spreading the epiphany: we don’t need ScrumMasters anymore.

One of stories that instantly pops into my head whenever I hear about the role of ScrumMaster is the one John Cieslik-Bridgen, who used to be a ScrumMaster at Lunar Logic, shared with me once:

“We were doing a “design your ideal team” exercise. In this exercise, I liked the fact that I wasn’t referred to as a ScrumMaster, rather ‘a John’, as in, “we’ll need ‘a John’”. I think the use of the word “coach” much better reflects what I try to do.”

On a side note: I’d love to have “a John” as a title on my business card someday. After all, many teams need a John.

By this point you may wonder, which part of Tobias’ post I haven’t understood, as the story is totally aligned with the article. Well, I have understood the post. John’s story, however, is just one side of the coin.

The other is that few organizations are mature enough to hire, or promote, a John. Conversely, many companies lose their Johns, these great coaches and counselors, because they don’t have a named place for them. What’s more, organizations often need some kind of framework to even allow a role of a John. This framework very often happens to be Scrum and the role is called ScrumMaster.

I don’t say it is a magic pill that solves every problem in an organization. I just say this step is often very helpful in moving to the next level for both the org and for a John.

And yes, I can think of other, arguably better, means to an end of organizational and personal improvement, but I find this one working surprisingly often. To quote Tobias once more: “Sorry guys, it’s what I see.”

I actually see much value if a John blossoms and eventually leaves the organization because it just scratches the surface and doesn’t really introduce agile values. At the end of the day we still have one more great guy on the job market.

While I agree with the argument that the ScrumMaster role is often abused and I don’t really like how it is defined, I still consider it one of the valuable options for organizations. The option that may end in preservation of status quo, but also in creating a space for people who will take the org to the next level.

Does it mean we should throw away the role as a whole? Well, in mature organizations, where there is a good understanding of the reasons that ScrumMasters were introduced and what they are supposed to do, I see no reason to cultivate the role or the title.

On the other hand I still see the ScrumMaster role as a tool that can create space for change agents (I hate this name too) and catalyze improvements. After all, would there be a John without a ScrumMaster first?

Have I just written a post in defense of the ScrumMaster role? Oh well…

“It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”

~ Grace Hopper

As a leader of more than a hundred people I often get asked questions that I don’t really know how to answer. Well, I probably could answer pretty easily, although I don’t think “who, the hell, even asks such questions” or “maybe I could come up with some random piece of advice if you really need one” are really the type of answers they are looking for.

On such occasions my default answer is Grace Hopper’s famous quotation.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of total anarchy. I do appreciate some order and asking for permission is an integral part of most of orders I know, if not all of them. However, when in doubt just take the advice from Grace Hopper.

You may wonder whether this approach backfires on me sometimes. Oh yes, it does. I guarantee you this. Not very often, but pretty regularly. On such occasions, for a brief moment I wish that guy had asked what to do and had not simply done as he liked. But then I realize how much of a bottleneck I’d be with this attitude.

Heck, not only would I be a bottleneck but also I’d restrain many of the great initiatives my teams pursue. I would tell them over and over again how much they’re begging for failure. Or even better – I’d keep them from failing. Except, eventually, they don’t fail. Damn those guys, they just don’t want to fail even though I predicted that.

Actually, even when they fail, it is still better. After all, a failure is the best teacher and, as a bonus, I can use my clairvoyant hat: “Told you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

When you think about it, the worst thing which can happen is that you might need to explain to a few very important guys why your team did what they did. And believe me, it doesn’t happen very often. It’s a pretty low price for all the great initiatives people pursue, the results they achieve, and the culture you all help to create.

On a side note: when we are on the subject of culture, it probably is a cultural thing, but I find it interesting that we actually need to encourage people to go beyond hierarchies, procedures and rules. Otherwise many of them are naturally inclined to preserve the status quo.

Status quo is likely nothing you’d like to preserve.

So next time you have any doubts, just do the goddamn thing and ask for forgiveness. If you even need to do this after the fact, that is.

Yes, I am well aware that quite a bunch of people from my team are going to read it.

Yes, I know that some of them will take the advice to heart.

Yes, I am pretty sure that they will use it in a way that (on occasions) will kick me in my butt. Hard.

And yes, I am still happy with that. This is a tiny price for what I get in exchange.

After all, if your butt isn’t kicked at all, you’re likely failing as a leader.

A message that we hear over and over again is that we should optimize the whole and not the parts as local optimizations often (arguably always) result in making the whole operate less efficiently.

I don’t want to bring up such stupid examples as counting lines of code (Want some? Here it goes!) or counting bugs (Whoa! On this screen there are several glitches. Why don’t I submit dozen tickets?). Listen to John Seddon’s stories for some less obvious examples.

So let’s assume that we should focus on optimizing the whole.

Now, tell this to this line manager who works for a couple thousand-employee organization. How the heck can this poor guy leading five people optimize the whole? Most likely he can’t. Well, of course he may, and should, fight his way up there to make his managers aware of problems he sees and help them to convince their managers, who need to get through to their managers, etc. A couple years later someone, finally, tells the CEO that she has a problem, so she makes the right decisions to optimize the whole.

Except it doesn’t work this way. Most likely the message is ignored on one level or another. It’s actually pretty common that it doesn’t get through past the first level of a hierarchy. So we’re back to square one: our poor leader can’t optimize the whole. He neither has the visibility nor the power to do so.

Should he fall back and sit silent?

Hell no!

He should make a goddamn paradise out of his tiny slice of the organization. He should optimize locally to the point where his team is the most effective team on the planet Earth.

And yes, I am pretty much aware that many of these optimizations mean suboptimizing the whole. Actually, that’s perfect. Yup, I’ve just said it: that’s perfect. It means the guy’s manager needs to act. Set some boundaries or constraints. Point out how the manager harms the rest of the org. Otherwise the boss is just accepting the fact that the overall performance of his teams will drop. Of course he will still have this rock star team, but I guess you don’t get much praise for having a star player and, at the same time, seeing your team relegated to a lower league.

There’s another nice side effect of the situation. These local optimizations, as long as they’re reasonable, are likely to virally spread throughout the organization. It means that the change starts affecting more than just a single team or even a division. It starts changing the whole org. For better or for worse. The role of senior managers is to funnel these changes into the right direction.

After all, when our line manager changes the part of the organization which he can comprehend isn’t it optimizing the whole from his perspective?

So roll up your sleeves and make your part of the company the best freaking team/division/what have you in the freaking world. Make your boss think how to set you constraints in a way that it doesn’t result in suboptimization of the whole.

On occasions I deal with an issue small enough that it barely deserves a full-blown blog post, yet it is hard to pack it into 140 characters of a tweet. However, when I’m advising on such an issue for yet another time it is a clear signal that sharing an idea how to deal with it might be useful. So, following an experimentation mindset, I’m going to try short posts addressing this kind of issues and see how they are received.

One of pretty common problems is with splitting tasks. For example a typical task for a team can take something between 4 hours and a couple of days. And then, there is this gargantuan task that takes 3 months. Actually, 3 months, 5 days and 3 hours. It is, however, quite a coherent work item. Basing on merits it does make sense to treat it as a single task.

On a side note: for whatever reasons it happens more often in non-software development teams.

The problem is, it heavily affects any metrics you may gather. Sometimes it affects metrics to the point when analyzing them doesn’t make much sense anymore. If you include this huge task in your metrics they all go mad. If you don’t, you basically hide the fact that a part of the team was working on something that isn’t accounted at all. So the question is: should you accept it and move on or do something with the task?

I’m not orthodox but I’d rather split the task to smaller ones. Usually this is the point when new issues raise – for example the task can be split but for pieces so small that measuring them separately adds way too much hassle. An alternative can be grouping these tiny pieces into batches of a size that does make sense for the team.

Anyway, I’d still go with splitting the task, even if division is artificial to some point. The knowledge you gain from metrics is worth the effort.

In short: when in doubt – split.

One of outcomes of Hakan Forss’ session on depth of Kanban practices at the Kanban Leadership Retreat was the use of radar charts to show the maturity of a Kanban implementation. The whole discussion started with the realization that different teams adopt Kanban practices in different orders, thus we need a tool to assess them somehow.

Radar charts, or spider charts, seem to be good tools for visualizing how well a team is doing. However, when you start using them, interesting things pop up.

Coming Up with Results

First, how exactly do you tell how mature an adoption of a specific practice is? How far are we on a scale from 0 to 5 with visualization? Why? What about limiting work in progress? Etc.

One of my teams decided to describe 0 as “doing nothing” and max as “where we think we would like to be.” With such an approach, a radar chart can be treated as a motivational poster – it shows exactly how much we still should do with our Kanban implementation. It also means that the team aims at a moving target – as time passes they will likely improve and thus set more ambitious goals.

There is also a drawback to this approach. Such an assessment is very subjective and very prone to gaps in knowledge. If I think that everything there is to be done about WIP limits is to set those numbers in each column on the board and avoid violating them, I will easily hit the max on the “limiting WIP” axis. Then of course I’ll award myself the Optimist of the Week and Ignorant of the Month prizes, but that’s another story.

On a side note: I pretty much expect that someone is going to come up with some kind of a poll with a bunch of questions that do the job for you and tell you how far you are with each practice. And, similarly to the Nokia Test, I think it will be a very mixed blessing with negatives outweighing positives.

Finding Common Results

The second issue is about gathering collective knowledge from a team. People will likely differ in their judgment – one would say that visualization is really mature, while the other will state that there’s lot more to be done in there.

The obvious strategy is to discuss the areas where the differences are the biggest. However, it’s not a fancy flavor of planning poker so, for heaven’s sake, don’t try to make everyone agree on the same number. It is subjective after all.

One more interesting trick that can be done is putting all the results on a single radar chart with min and max values creating the borders of an area. This area will tell you how your Kanban implementation is perceived.

With such a graph not only do you want to have this bagel spread as far as possible but also to have it as thin as possible. The latter may be even a more important goal in closer perspective as a wide spread of results means that team members understand the tool they use very differently.

Comparing Results between Teams

The third issue pops up when you compare graphs created by different teams. Let’s assume you have both issues above solved already and you have some kind of consistent way of judging maturity of Kanban practices. It is still very likely that different teams will follow different paths to Kanban adoption, thus their charts will differ. After all this is what launched the whole discussion in the first place.

It means, however, that you may draw very interesting conclusions from comparing the results of different teams. You don’t try to say which team is better and which needs more work. You actually launch discussions on how people are doing things and why they think they are good (or bad) at them. You enable collaborative learning.

As a bonus you can see patterns on a higher level. For example, people across the organization are doing pretty well with visualization, have very mixed outcomes in terms of managing flow and are not that good when it comes to limiting WIP. It can help you focus on specific areas with your coaching and training effort.

Besides, it is funny to see how a personal kanban maturity radar chart can look like.

To summarize, radar charts are nice visuals to show you where you are with your Kanban adoption, but they may, and should, be used as a communication enabler and a learning catalyst.

This is a rant. I’m sorry.

We have our mouths full of feedback. We are eager to get feedback on our work. We consider sharing feedback as a crucial part of the work of any leader. Feedback this. Feedback that.

Yeah, that’s all true. Except we’re missing one part.

When it comes to leaving our comfort zones, we instantly start sucking at sharing feedback. We suck big time. You don’t like how our folks from PR team dealt with a recent initiative, right? After all you are just telling me that. So why won’t you just go and tell them? Brilliant, isn’t it?

It’s pretty easy, you know. You use your mouth to construct these things called words and you build sentences out of words. And then the magic happens – you can transmit the message using sentences. Voila!

That’s easy. Really. Just remember to be honest. Share the message in a straightforward way. Don’t judge. You will manage. I believe in you.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not freaking out over a single situation. I see this as a pattern. Actually, whenever I see any questions regarding feedback my default answer is “honest and straightforward.” The problem is this answer doesn’t seem to very popular. Actually beating around the bush or simply “don’t tell anything” types of answers seems to be the standard behavior for many.

So why, oh why, are you surprised that you don’t get much quality feedback? After all you too are contributing to building this sick organization that is just afraid to share any. It’s simple – if no one shares feedback no one receives it either. It doesn’t populate like freaking lemmings or something.

And while we are on this topic, well, it’s not only how you (don’t) share feedback; it’s also how you receive it. Next time someone wants to share something critical about you or your work, try this: STFU and listen. The other person has just moved their butt out of their comfort zone to tell you something they think is important. The least you shall do is to let them do their part. But you should do better – listen and try to learn something from it. A simple “thank you” seems proper too.

You may even disagree with the merits of the feedback but it isn’t some kind of odd negotiation or something. No one is trying to win this discussion with you. No one is attacking you. So spare me the drama and don’t get all defensive. It neither helps you nor the other guy.

Most of all, it definitely does nothing good to the feedback culture you may try to introduce into your organization. Not to mention building trust.

If you really want to build an open feedback culture in your company, start sharing and stop being a jerk, I mean defensive, when you receive feedback. If your organization doesn’t appreciate this, think again whether it is the right organization to be with.

Now that you asked, yes, such an attitude means that you become vulnerable in front of your superiors, peers and colleagues. And yes, it is a crucial part of building trust. I don’t know how it is in your case but I wouldn’t like to work for an organization that is incapable of building trust. Would you?

One of signals that something may be wrong with a Kanban implementation is when the Kanban board’s design doesn’t change over time. Of course it is more likely that rapid changes of the board will be happening during early stages of the Kanban implementation, but even in mature teams a board that looks exactly like it did a year ago is sort of a warning light. For very fresh Kanban teams I would expect that board design would differ month-to-month.

Actually, a stalled board is more a symptom than a problem on its own. The root cause is likely the fact that the team stopped improving their process. On one hand, it is a common situation that at the beginning the potential for change is significantly higher and it diminishes over time. On the other, I’ve yet to see a perfect team that doesn’t need to improve their processes at all.

In such cases, what can one do to catalyze opportunities to discuss the board design?

One idea that comes in very handy is to watch for situations in which any team member takes an index card to update its status and, for whatever reasons, struggles to find the right place on the board to put the card. It may be so because there isn’t relevant stage in the value stream, or the work currently done isn’t in line with the rest of process, or a task is sort of specific, or what have you. This kind of situation is a great trigger to start a discussion on the board’s alignment to what the team really does and how the work is done.

Another idea is to dedicate a retrospective just to discuss the board. Such a constrained retro can be a natural opportunity to look for board-related issues or improvements in this area. I think about a class of issues that might not be painful enough to be brought as biggest problems to solve on regular basis, but, at the same time, we know that tiny changes in the board design or WIP limits can introduce tremendous changes in people’s behavior.

There is also a bigger gun – a significant board face-lift. Following the idea that Jim Benson shared during his ACE Conference keynote, teams find it easy to describe and define about 80% of processes they follow. The rest seems vague and that’s always a tricky part when you think about value stream mapping. This is, by the way, totally aligned with my experience with such exercises – I’ve yet to meet a team that can define the way they work instantly and without arguing.

Of course, introduction of visualization helps to sort this one out although it’s not that rare that we fall into a trap of idealizing our flow or just getting used to whatever is on the board.

Then you can always use the ultimate weapon and redesign your board from scratch. Probably people will have in mind the board you’ve just wiped out and will mimic it to some point. Anyway, odds are that if you start a discussion from the beginning – the moment when work items of different classes of services arrive to the team –some new insight will pop up, helping you to improve the board.

On a side note: it is also a good moment to discuss what you put on an index card exactly; I treat it as an integral part of board design, as you will need a different design for standard-sized work items and different for highly-variable projects on portfolio board.

Read the whole Kanban pitfalls series.

Continuing the discussion on differing perspectives of consultants and practitioners, I have asked Scott Berkun a few questions on the subject. I chose Scott because for the past few months he has been coping with both options: while publishing his next book – Mindfire: Big Ideas for curious Minds – he spent a year and a half having something like a regular job at WordPress.com.

Not only was I curious about Scott’s views on the subject but also I think we can learn a lot from him, especially those of us who are considering coupling both roles. So here are a few gems of knowledge gleened from Scott.

Scott, you’ve recently left Automattic where you worked for some time and it has triggered me to ask you a few questions about your spell there. The difference between insider versus outsider or practitioner versus consultant perspective is something that draws my interest for some time already. You’ve decided to try living both lives concurrently and it gives you a unique perspective on a subject.

Reading your blog and your tweets over time, my impression is that your enthusiasm for having a regular job while pursuing your career as a writer and a consultant was diminishing. Was that only an impression or there is something more to it?

The plan was always to stay at WordPress.com for about a year. It’s a great place to work and it was hard to leave. Any complaining I did was probably just to help convince myself I needed to leave, which was hard to do as I enjoyed it so much. I stayed there for 18 months, 6 months longer than I’d planned.

What was the biggest challenge of having two so different careers at the same time?

Having two careers sucks. I don’t recommend it. My success in writing depends on full commitment. I can write books because I have no excuses not to. I succeed by focus. It’s the primary thing I’m supposed to do. Having two jobs divided my energy and I don’t have the discipline needed to make up for the gap. It also changed my free time. I noticed immediately the amount of reading I did dropped dramatically. I used to read about a book every week or so. That dropped to a book every few months. Having two jobs meant my brain demanded idle time which came at the expense of reading. I felt like I was working all the time, which isn’t healthy for anyone.

And what was your biggest lesson from this time?

The next book is about my experience working at WordPress.com and what I learned will be well documented there. Professionally I learned creating culture is the most powerful thing a leader does, and WordPress.com has done that exceedingly well.

Do you think that coupling consultancy and a regular job is doable in the long run?

I don’t know why anyone would want to work that much in the same field, honestly. For anyone who thinks I’m good at managing teams, or writing books, a huge reason why is the other interests and experiences I’ve had in my life that have nothing to do with leadership or software or writing.

Do you plan to get another job at some time in future again? Why?

As long as I’m paid to speak to people who are leaders and managers, it’s wise for me to periodically go back to working in an organization where I’m leading and managing people. It forced me to test how much of my own advice I actually practice, and refreshed my memory on what the real challenges are. Any guru or expert who hasn’t done the thing they’re lecturing others about in years should have their credibility questioned. I figure once a decade or so it’s a necessary exercise for any guru with integrity.

Why we should consider moving to (or staying in) a consultancy role?

When I first quit to be on my own I did a lot of consulting. As soon as the books started doing well and I had more requests to speak, I did less and less of it. I do it rarely now. Consultancy can be liberating as you are called in to play a specific role on a short time frame. If you like playing that specific role and like change (since who you work with changes with each new project), consultancy can make you happy. It pays well if you are well known enough to find clients.

Why we should consider moving to (or staying in) regular jobs?

Consultants rarely have much impact. Advice is easy to ignore. Consulting can be frustrating and empty for the consultant, even if you are paid well. Anyone serious about ideas and making great things knows they have to have their own skin in the game to achieve a dream. You can’t do that from the consulting sidelines. In a regular job at least there is the pretense of ownership. Everyone should be an entrepreneur at least once in their life: you can only discover what you are capable of, or not, when you free yourself from the constraints of other people.

Whenever I’m acting as a coach, a facilitator or a consultant for a team there’s one thing that struck me every time – how much being a practitioner helps me in performing in the role. And when I say a practitioner I think about doing similar work as the teams do on a daily basis, and not only coaching, consulting or facilitating. It’s like doing my regular stuff except it is a bit different. But then, I’m solving similar problems every day, am I not?

Personally, I could imagine myself being full-time consultant, although I believe I’d lose something this way. On one hand full-time consultants are exposed to more different environments as, well, this is what they do – they visit different organizations and work with them. On the other, consultants come, consultants go – most of the time they don’t hang around to see the final results of their work. After all it isn’t their responsibility to make the change stick.

However, when I think about consultant versus practitioner perspective the biggest thing that still keeps me on practitioner’s side of the fence is fear of disconnection. At this moment whenever I’m “selling” you something it is likely verified in the organization I work (or have worked) for. Been there, seen that, done that. You can trust me.

It’s not that I read this trendy book or my company is selling training of that method. It’s not that I spent much time on conferences listening to all those published authors, thought-leaders and whatnot who are extremely knowledgeable but are also long gone from real jobs, you know, the ones that produce something tangible.

I really touch the crap. And live with it. So whenever I’m wrong there’s no one else but me to clean up the mess.

So what I’m thinking about here are two things. One question is for consultants that are reading the blog (I know there are quite a few of you): how are you coping with the issue of disconnection? Or maybe it is just non-issue?

Another question would be for those of you who are considering hiring some help to sort things out in your organization: would you prefer a consultant or a practitioner and why?

I’d be glad to hear as many voices as possible, so if you are considering commenting the post but not really sure, please do – you’ll earn my infinite gratitude. And you definitely want it because it is exchangeable for a beer when you meet me.