Hypothetical: you find what seems to be the perfect prospective client. You’ve collaborated to develop an idea with the potential to realize outstanding value. They’ve decided they trust you to capitalize on the opportunity and achieve that value via some new software system.

*But!*

But the prospect makes a point to tell you they don’t want to be trained or changed (and that you can forget about “transformed”). They compensate by emphasizing that their only objective is to produce that set of value-creating widgets the two of you dreamed up in the (much cozier, in hindsight) first paragraph.

And then what happened?…

Ron Jeffries just posted a terrific case for clean code, and decoupled a recently-emerged “code can be too clean” meme from a question that has actual merit, “can we spend too much time making code clean?”

Upon discussing the post with Kevin Baribeau this evening, an anecdotal correlation was identified between folks who’ve said things akin to “code can be too clean” and folks who tend to succumb to the pressure to rush development of features.

Keep reading…

Over the last year, I’ve made an effort to better identify the styles, idioms, and smells I encounter when reading and writing new Java code. [And, already, a takeaway point! To some of my more successfully sheltered rubyist friends, it may be sorry news to hear that there continues to be new Java code written.]

In any case, I’ve made a concerted effort to internalize habits that I find valuable and to develop a reflex to resist those which I do not. This will be my first effort at documenting either, so I’ll just express them in terms of how my Java looks these days, replete with code snippets as needed.

To be continued…