I’m going to tell you a dirty little secret about software architecture. The field, with all of its perceived mathematical and scientific prowess, rarely deals in absolutes. The vastness of data shuffled around the cloud, coupled with continuous technological advances, requires a cryptic, nearly mystical approach to problem solving. Tending to massive architectural gardens demands a broad range of experiences far removed from what’s taught in academia and is tantamount to reading tea leaves or gazing into a crystal ball. Practicing intuition and developing fortitude become just as important as squashing bugs. Personally, I expend more energy decoding abstractions than I do debugging algorithms.
Software architects often utilize inventive wizardry to help prevent system instability, manage treasure troves of data and reduce cost. The number of comments, likes, views and shares on the screen are rarely accurate representations of immediate calculations by super computers. Even with all of their processing power and memory, the computational results returned are eventually consistent, but not instantaneous. Users of social media and software services today aren’t keen to prove the math is correct, even if they could refresh the app fast enough. The numbers I see are not the numbers you see, and depending on the viral magnitude of the content, the counts can fluctuate like my blood pressure during a morning commute.
The data does move closer toward consistency after the initial storm of network traffic passes through. Patterns emerge that are easier to understand and plan for, but those outliers can be a real pain, especially if the infrastructure serving up funny cat videos and giggling babies isn’t ready for the influx of dopamine junkies. By accepting that reliable trends can swing wildly, we’re able to plan for chaos, let it reign supreme for brief periods and then settle back into normalcy. Our lives are the same. When we’re inundated with more challenges or tribulations than is conventional, it’s better to understand the overload than avoid or ignore it altogether.
I’ve been thinking a lot about eventual consistency as it applies to my current season of life. My kids will both be in high school this coming fall, my career experience affords me a greater degree of flexibility and for 23 years I’ve been happily married. For all my failures and shortcomings, we appear to have landed in a consistent state of being, a routine that satisfies our existence. The foggy eventualities are dwindling. Isn’t that the American dream? If it is, then why do I spend my nights and weekends writing, trying to publish books or running the Lunar Awards? Why do I keep planting seeds and watering the yard when the grass is already green on our side of the fence?
As a creative, I’m tempted to say it’s in my nature, a unique trait preventing me from settling into mundane rituals that lack the fulfillment provided by imaginative pursuits. This is true to an extent. I need to create. It’s in my DNA, and personally I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be creating, inviting a controlled chaos by entertaining wild ambitions to help make sense of the world. But that’s not the only reason I’m okay with a higher degree of inconsistency. There’s a plan behind the plan.
As a human being, I’m at my best when I struggle through difficult endeavors and chronicle accomplishments previously thought impossible. Even when I don’t succeed (by whatever standard is applied), the act of attempting to understand my purpose and improve still ends up strengthening my resolve. It’s only when I embrace heavy doses of lethargy — constantly opining after the next wave of passive calm — that I enter dangerous territory. Perpetually striving for consistency becomes a bad thing.
When my wife and I considered adopting a second child, my career aspirations were floundering, and I longed for relief from the pressures of my responsibility. I wanted nothing but consistency. As the sole provider an anxious pit formed in my gut whenever we discussed expanding our family. I couldn’t imagine becoming responsible for another little human. For years, I made plans to rest comfortably with a nest egg that would allow absolute freedom to decide the trajectory of my life, providing a false sense of control. An infant would upset that balance. Ultimately, we did adopt our son and our family is now complete.
It would be lovely to say all was well immediately following his arrival, and that we’ve never experienced hardship as a reward for our steadfast commitment. It would also be a lie. For six months he experienced night terrors. The pit in my gut merely shifted positions. Getting married and having children can cause any number of ailments and predicaments. It’s a never-ending whirlwind of uncertainty. Even though we currently sail through calmer waters, there’s going to be large white walls that come crashing down on our boat. If I’m not prepared, I could end up overboard, or worse yet, drown the whole family.
Getting married and having children isn’t for everyone. I get that, but especially for the men I call friends, embracing the duties of a husband and father equips us to face both obvious problems and lingering doubts in other areas like work and in social standing. Taking on new challenges even when it’s not necessary tests our boundaries, and if we’re not broken in the process, helps us push beyond our perceived limitations. It’s no wonder I hear so many wise senior citizens state the worst thing you can do in retirement is nothing. The mind goes soft, and the body and brain follow.
In software architecture, as in life, there is rarely one right solution, although I can still make mistakes or poor decisions. I use whatever I’ve learned from previous experiences to help guide my family through any turmoil, knowing full well that reality can be just as viral and absurd as the Baby Shark Dance, and just as maddening.
It’s not possible to predict the future, but it is possible to use a honed intuition in order to help govern outcomes. There will be time to rest, to sit back and enjoy short moments of peace when we’re afforded them. And it’s possible, depending on your current season right now, you could use that sort of stability. I’ve been there. I understand. You’ll get there... eventually, and with some measure of consistency.
Incredibly well written and important piece, Brian. Thank you for sharing this. I often find myself cast about on rough seas, wondering if it’s all worth it. “Wouldn’t life be simpler if…?” But it’s in the persistence of commitment that either the seas will eventually calm or I’ll grow accustomed to them. Or maybe a bit of both. The only way we’ll know is if we sail out toward our destination and find out! Thanks 🙏
I just wanted to say that I’m grateful for these words of encouragement. It sounds like we’re in a similar phase of life, but I’m still earnestly searching for that sense of consistency. There seem to be so many things in life right now that are well like you said the white walls. And wave after wave. I pray that eventually I’ll experience calmer waters.