A refactored workspace

Last autumn, there was a point where I was spending most of my free time manically extolling the virtues of Andy Hunt's excellent Pragmatic Thinking & Learning to anyone that would listen, not to mention quite a few that wouldn't. Most people managed to feign interest quite well, presumably certain that it was just a phase I was going through and that it'd pass soon enough. It did leave a lasting impression on me, though, and I realised yesterday that my workspace has become some kind of weird shrine to much of the book's content.

It started with a single index card, bluetacked to the wall above my display, reading "CONSIDER THE CONTEXT". The book suggests doing this as early as page six, so I obviously bought into it right from the off. The index cards gradually multiplied and changed as I progressed through the chapters, until eventually there were 13 of them, arranged in two horizontal rows just above my display. They're generally just little reminders of things from the book that seemed like they might help me to work more effectively. My favourites are: "Don't just do something, stand there"; "Learn by synthesis"; and "Know what you don't know".

The next thing to change on my desk was the addition of a second display, effectively doubling the size of my visible work area. As the book suggested it would, doing this had a tangible, positive effect on the way I work, allowing me to focus my attention on more pieces of information simultaneously.

Almost immediately, I followed that by installing VirtuaWin, software for Windows that allows you to run separate virtual desktops. So web browsers, iTunes, IRC and so on were all banished from view, allowing me to focus purely on actual work. This resulted in fewer interruptions, less context-switching and increased productivity.

Then, just before Christmas, I decided that the starkly-lit, whitewashed walls of our windowless basement needed breaking up with a bit of colour. So I bought a couple of posters on the internet that would also serve to remind me of the book's advice. The first is a picture of the earth, taken from the moon. This reminds me to turn my assumptions on their head if I'm ever stuck on something and try to view them from a different angle. The second poster shows both the tip and the much larger, hidden section of an iceberg. This reminds me that a problem's symptom is not the whole thing and that I must always consider the context.

The final piece of this slightly obsessive jigsaw was actually something I first heard of from Hunt's first book with Dave Thomas, The Pragmatic Programmer. I wish I'd read that book much earlier on in my career, because it would have saved me from learning a lot of things the hard way. As it was, it was a great feeling to finally put proper names and rules to concepts or approaches that I'd been imperfectly forming in my own mind over the years. Anyway, the last arrival at my desk was a plastic duck, a prize from a rather drunken general knowledge quiz at my friend's house on New Year's Eve. It feels like I was destined to win that duck, who now occupies pride of place on the stack of books next to my two displays.

So what's the point of the duck? The duck is there for me to talk through sticky problems with. It is consistently surprising how the very act of describing aloud the symptoms of a problem can instantly cause one to discover the cause. By describing the symptoms to the duck instead of a person, I am saving my teammates from the tedious job of walking across the room just to listen to me answer my own question. Although I must confess I'm still occasionally guilty of this, so I'll add a 14th index card to my wall today: "Talk to the duck!"