Burned by ‘let it burn’

Here are some excerpts from a story from the L.A. Times, with the headline: Forest Service changes ‘let it burn’ policy following criticism from western politicians (emphasis mine)

Facing criticism over its practice of monitoring some fires rather than quickly snuffing them out, the U.S. Forest Service has told its firefighters to halt the policy this year to better prioritize resources and help prevent small blazes from growing into uncontrollable conflagrations.

The [Tamarack] fire began as a July 4 lightning strike on a single tree in the Mokelumne Wilderness, a rugged area southeast of Sacramento. Forest officials decided to monitor it rather than attempt to put it out, a decision a spokeswoman said was based on scant resources and the remote location. But the blaze continued to grow, eventually consuming nearly 69,000 acres, destroying homes and causing mass evacuations. It is now 82% contained.

Instead of letting some naturally caused small blazes burn, the agency’s priorities will shift this year, U.S. Forest Service Chief Randy Moore indicated to the staff in a letter Monday. The focus, he said, will be on firefighter and public safety.

The U.S. Forest Service had to make a call about whether to put out a fire or to monitor it and let it burn out. In this case, they decided to monitor it, and the fire grew out of control.

Now, imagine an alternate universe where the Forest Service spent some of its scant resources on putting out this fire, and then another fire popped up somewhere else, and they didn’t have the resources to fight that one effectively, and it went out of control. The news coverage would, undoubtedly, be equally unkind.

Practitioners often must make risk trade-offs in the moment, when there is a high amount of uncertainty. What was the risk that the fire would grow out of control? How does it stack up against the risk of being short staffed if you send out firefighters to put out a small fire and a large one breaks out elsewhere?

Towards the middle of the piece, the article goes into some detail about the issue of limited resources.

[Agriculture Secretary Tom] Vilsack promised more federal aid and cooperation for California’s plight, acknowledging concerns about past practices while also stressing that, with dozens of fires burning across the West and months to go in a prolonged fire season, there are not enough resources to put them all out.

“Candidly I think it’s fair to say, over the generations, over the decades, we have tried to do this job on the cheap,” Vilsack said. “We’ve tried to get by, a little bit here, a little bit there, a little forest management over here, a little fire suppression over here. But the reality is this has caught up with us, which is why we have an extraordinary number of catastrophic fires and why we have to significantly beef up our capacity.”

Vilsack said that the bipartisan infrastructure bill working its way through Congress would provide some of those resources but that ultimately it would take “billions” of dollars and years of catch-up to create fire-resilient forests.

The U.S. Forest Service’s policy on allowing unplanned wildfires to burn differs from the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, and I’m not a domain expert, so I don’t have an informed opinion. But this isn’t just a story about policy, it’s a story about saturation. It’s also about what’s allowed (and not allowed) to count as a cause.

StaffEng podcast

I had fun being a guest on the StaffEng podcast.

Jonathan Wondrusch (Block): Raising Ambition in the Singularity StaffEng

Jonathan joins Alex and David to talk about what actually changes when agents get good enough to do the work. He walks through the 60-service monorepo migration that convinced him the ceiling had moved, why "raising ambition" is now a real coaching conversation with his team, and how Block is using linters and LLM-as-judge to keep GraphQL API design honest.The conversation goes past the usual velocity story into the harder question: engineering is multiplayer, and most AI tooling is still single-player. Jonathan makes the case that the human touch points — design reviews, pairing, cross-functional feedback — are the part you have to deliberately protect, not the part you optimize away. Plus: adversarial code review with mixed models, why he'll let an agent write his code but not his voice, and the trap of low-hanging fruit that doesn't compound.https://x.com/JWondruschhttps://x.com/davidnoelromashttps://x.com/voidfiles
  1. Jonathan Wondrusch (Block): Raising Ambition in the Singularity
  2. StaffEng with Karla Burnett: You're all 100x engineers…now what?
  3. A look inside an engineering team @OpenAI with Dylan Vassallo
  4. How BabyList Accelerated AI Adoption in Engineering with Karynn Ikeda
  5. I Haven't Opened an IDE Since November — Will Maier

What’s allowed to count as a cause?

Imagine a colleague comes to you and says, “I’m doing the writeup for a recent incident. I have to specify causes, but I’m not sure which ones to put. Which of these do you think I should go with?”

  1. Engineer entered incorrect configuration value. The engineer put in the wrong config value, which led to the critical foo system to return error responses.
  2. Non-actionable alerts. The engineer who specified the config had just come off an on-call shift where they had to deal with multiple alerts that fired the night before. All of those alerts turned out to be non-actionable. The engineer was tired the day they put in the configuration change. Had the engineer not had to deal with these alerts, they would have been sharper the next day, and likely would have spotted the config problem.
  3. Work prioritization. An accidentally incorrect configuration value was a known risk to the team, and they had been planning to build in some additional verification to guard against these sorts of configuration values. But this work was de-prioritized in favor of work that supported a high-priority feature to the business, which involved coordination across multiple teams. Had the work not been de-prioritized, there would have been guardrails in place that would have prevented the config change from taking down the system.
  4. Power dynamics. The manager of the foo team had asked leadership for additional headcount, to enable the team to do both the work that was high priority to the business and to work on addressing known risks. However, the request was denied, and the available headcount was allocated to other teams, based on the perceived priorities of the business. If the team manager had had more power in the org, they would have been able to acquire the additional resources and address the known risks.

There’s a sense in which all of these can count as causes. If any of them weren’t present, the incident wouldn’t have happened. But we don’t see them the same way. I can guarantee that you’re never going to see power dynamics listed as a cause in an incident writeup, public or internal.

The reason is not that “incorrect configuration value” is somehow objectively more causal than power dynamics. Rather, the sorts of things that are allowed to be labelled as causes depends on the cultural norms of an organization. This is what people mean when they say that causes are socially constructed.

And who gets to determine what’s allowed to be labelled as a cause and what isn’t is itself a property of power dynamics. Because the things that are allowed to be called causes are things that an organization is willing to label as a problem, which means that it’s something that can receive organizational attention and resources in order to be addressed.

Remember this the next time you identify a contributing factor in an incident and somebody responds with, “that’s not why the incident happened.” That isn’t an objective statement of fact. It’s a value judgment about what’s permitted to be identified as a cause.

The greedy exec trap

Just listening to this experience was so powerful. It taught me to challenge the myth of “commercial pressure”. We tend to think that every organizational problem is the result of cost-cutting. Yet, the cost of a new drain pump was only $90… [that’s] nothing when you are running a ship. As it turned out, the purchase order had landed in the wrong department.

Nippin Anand, Deep listening — a personal journey

Whenever we read about a public incident, a common pattern in the reporting is that the organization under-invested in some area, and that can explain why the incident happened. “If only the execs hadn’t been so greedy”, we think, “if they had actually invested some additional resources, this wouldn’t have happened!”

What was interesting as well around this time is that when the chemical safety board looked at this in depth, they found a bunch of BP organizational change. There were a whole series of reorganizations of this facility over the past few years that had basically disrupted the understandings of who was responsible for safety and what was that responsibility. And instead of safety being some sort of function here, it became abstracted away into the organization somewhere. A lot of these conditions, this chained-closed outlet here, the failure of the sensors, problems with the operators and so on… all later on seemed to be somehow brought on by the rapid rate of organizational change. And that safety had somehow been lost in the process.

Richard Cook, Process tracing, Texas City BP explosion, 2005, Lectures on the study of cognitive work

Production pressure is an ever-present risk. his is what David Woods calls faster/better/cheaper pressure, a nod to NASA policy. In fact, if you follow the link to the Richard Cook lecture, right after talking about the BP reorgs, he discusses the role of production pressure in the Texas City BP explosion. However, production pressure is never the whole story.

Remember the Equifax breach that happened a few years ago? Here’s a brief timeline I extracted from the report:

  • Day 0: (3/7/17) Apache Struts vulnerability CVE-2017-5638 is publicly announced
  • Day 1: (3/8/17) US-CERT sends an alert to Equifax about the vulnerability
  • Day 2: (3/9/17) Equifax’s Global Threat and Vulnerability Management (GTVM) team posts to an internal mailing list about the vulnerability and requests that app owners should patch within 48 hours
  • ???
  • Day 37: (4/13/17) Attackers exploit the vulnerability in the ACIS app

The Equifax vulnerability management team sent out a notification about the Struts vulnerability a day after they received notice about it. But, as in the two cases above, something got lost in the system. What I wondered reading the report was: How did that notification get lost? Were the engineers who operate the ACIS app not on that mailing list? Did they receive the email, but something kept them from acting on it? Perhaps there was nobody responsible for security patches of the app at the time the notification went out? Maddeningly, the report doesn’t say. After reading that report, I still feel like I don’t understand what it was about the system that enabled the notification to get lost.

It’s so easy to explain an incident by describing how management could have prevented it from investing additional resources. This is what Nippin Anand calls the myth of commercial pressure. It’s all too satisfying for us to identify short-sighted management decisions as the reason that an incident happened.

I’m calling this tendency the greedy exec trap, because once we identify the cause of an incident as greedy executives, we stop asking questions. We already know why the incident happened, so what more do we need to look into? What else is there to learn, really?

Trouble during startup

I asked this question on twitter today:

I received a lot of great responses.

My question was motivated by this lecture by Dr. Richard Cook about an explosion at a BP petroleum processing plant in Texas in 2005 that killed fifteen plant workers. Here’s a brief excerpt, starting at 16:31 of the video:


Let me make one other observation about this that I think is important, which is that this occurred during startup. That is, once these processes get going, they work in a way that’s different than starting them up. So starting up the process requires a different set of activities than running it continuously. Once you have it running continuously, you can be pouring stuff in one end and getting it out the other, and everything runs smoothly in-between. But startup doesn’t, it doesn’t have things in it, so you have to prime all the pumps by doing a different set of operations.


This is yet another reminder of how similar we are to other fields that control processes.

Controlling a process we don’t understand

I was attending the Resilience Engineering Association – Naturalistic Decision Making Symposium last month, and one of the talks was by a medical doctor (an anesthesiologist) who was talking about analyzing incidents in anesthesiology. I immediately thought of Dr. Richard Cook, who is also an anesthesiologist, who has been very active in the field of resilience engineering, and I wondered, “what is it with anesthesiology and resilience engineering?” And then it hit me: it’s about process control.

As software engineers in the field we call “tech”, we often discuss whether we are really engineers in the same sense that a civil engineer is. But, upon reflection I actually think that’s the wrong question to ask. Instead, we should consider the fields there where practitioners are responsible for controlling a dynamic process that’s too complex for humans to fully understand. This type of work involves fields such as spaceflight, aviation, maritime, chemical engineering, power generation (nuclear power in particular), anesthesiology, and, yes, operating software services in the cloud.

We all have displays to look at to tell us the current state of things, alerts that tell us something is going wrong, and knobs that we can fiddle with when we need to intervene in order to bring the process back into a healthy state. We all feel production pressure, are faced with ambiguity (is that blip really a problem?), are faced with high-pressure situations, and have to make consequential decisions under very high degrees of uncertainty.

Whether we are engineers or not doesn’t matter. We’re all operators doing our best to bring complex systems under our control. We face similar challenges, and we should recognize that. That is why I’m so fascinated by fields like cognitive systems engineering and resilience engineering. Because it’s so damned relevant to the kind of work that we do in the world of building and operating cloud services.

Designing like a joint cognitive system

There’s a famous paper by Gary Klein, Paul Feltovich, and David Woods, called Common Ground and Coordination in Joint Activity. Written in 2004, this paper discusses the challenges a group of people face when trying to achieve a common goal. The authors introduce the concept of common ground, which must be established and maintained by all of the participants in order for them to reach the goal together.

I’ve blogged previously about the concept of common ground, and the associated idea of the basic compact. (You can also watch John Allspaw discuss the paper at Papers We Love). Common ground is typically discussed in the context of high-tempo activities. The most popular example in our field is an ad hoc team of engineers responding to an incident.

The book Designing Engineers was originally published in 1994, ten years before the Common Ground paper, and so Louis Bucciarelli never uses the phrase. And yet, the book calls forward to the ideas of common ground, and applies them to the lower-tempo work of engineering design. Engineering design, Bucciarelli claims, is a social process. While some design work is solitary, much of it takes place in social interactions, from formal meetings to informal hallway conversations.

But Bucciarelli does more than discover the ideas of common ground, he extends them. Klein et al. talk about the importance of an agreed upon set of rules, and the need to establish interpredictability: for participants to communicate to each other what they’re going to do next. Bucciarelli talks about how engineering design work involves actually developing the rules, making constraints concrete that were initially uncertain. Instead of interpredictability, Bucciarelli talks about how engineers argue for specific interpretations of requirements based on their own interests. Put simply, where Klein et al., talk about establishing, sustaining, and repairing common ground, Bucciarelli talks about constructing, interpreting, and negotiating the design.

Bucciarelli’s book is fascinating because he reveals how messy and uncertain engineering work is, and how concepts that we may think of as fixed and explicit are actually plastic and ambiguous.

For example, we think of building codes as being precise, but when applied to new situations, they are ambiguous, and the engineers must make a judgment about how to apply them. Bucciarelli tells an anecdote about the design of an an array of solar cells to mount on a roof. The building codes put limits on how much weight a roof can support, but the code only discusses distributed loads, and one of the proposed designs is based on four legs, which would be a concentrated load. An engineer and an architect negotiate on the type of design for the mounting: the engineer favors a solution that’s easier for the engineering company, but more work for the architect. The architect favors a solution that is more work and expense for the engineering company. The two must negotiate to reach an agreement on the design, and the relevant building code must be interpreted in this context.

Bucciarelli also observes that the performance requirements given to engineers are much less precise than you would expect, and so the engineers must construct more precise requirements as part of the design work. He gives the example of a company designing a cargo x-ray system for detecting contraband. The requirement is that it should be able to detect “ten pounds of explosive”. As the engineers prepare to test their prototype, a discussion ensues: what is an explosive? Is it a device with wires? A bag of plastic? The engineers must define what an explosive means, and that definition becomes a performance requirement.

Even technical terms that sound well-defined are ambiguous, and may be interpreted differently by different members of the engineering design team. The author witnesses a discussion of “module voltage” for a solar power generator. But the term can refer to open circuit voltage, maximum power voltage, operating voltage, or nominal voltage. It is only through social interactions that this ambiguity is resolved.

What Bucciarelli also notices in his study of engineers is that they do not themselves recognize the messy, social nature of design: they don’t see the work that they do establishing common ground as the design work. I mentioned this in a previous blog post. And that’s really a shame. Because if we don’t recognize these social interactions as design work, we won’t invest in making them better. To borrow a phrase from cognitive systems engineering, we should treat design work as work that’s done by a joint cognitive system.

You have to go there

A major claim of this study is that this process [of engineering design] transcends rational, instrumental process. But you have to go there and watch the process to capture this essential feature of designing. It is not recoverable from the artifact, nor is it there in the documentation and textual remnants of the design process. These, in their object-world voice, speak only of the empty shell of designing. Oral histories are a potentially sufficient source; these will also take the form of object-world representations of process. Multiple oral histories, if my thesis is correct, ought to be conflicting, reflecting the different interests and responsibilities of participants. The synthesis of a coherent story about design process from these becomes then a process of negotiation.

Louis Bucciarelli, Designing Engineers

Incident writeup as sociological storytelling

Back when Game of Thrones was ending, the sociology professor Zeynep Tufekci wrote an essay titled The Real Reason Fans Hate the Last Season of Game of Thrones. Up until the last season, Game of Thrones was told as a sociological story. Even though the show followed individual characters, the story wasn’t about those characters as individuals. Rather, it was a story about larger systems, such as society, norms, external events, and institutions, told through these characters. The sociological nature of the story was how the series maintained cohesion even though major characters died so often. In the last season, the showrunners switched to telling psychological stories, about the individual characters.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a blog post called Naming names in incident writeups. My former colleague Nora Jones expressed similar sentiments in her recent o11ycon keynote:

A good incident writeup is a sociological story about our system. Yes, there are individual engineers who were involved in the incident, but their role in the writeup is to serve as a narrative vehicle for telling that larger story. We care about those engineers (they are our colleagues!), but it’s the system that the story is about. As Tufekci puts it:

The hallmark of sociological storytelling is if it can encourage us to put ourselves in the place of any character, not just the main hero/heroine, and imagine ourselves making similar choices. “Yeah, I can see myself doing that under such circumstances” is a way into a broader, deeper understanding. It’s not just empathy: we of course empathize with victims and good people, not with evildoers.

But if we can better understand how and why characters make their choices, we can also think about how to structure our world that encourages better choices for everyone. The alternative is an often futile appeal to the better angels of our nature. It’s not that they don’t exist, but they exist along with baser and lesser motives. The question isn’t to identify the few angels but to make it easier for everyone to make the choices that, collectively, would lead us all to a better place.

Grappling with contingency

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

Contingency is the idea that history could easily have turned out completely different, if only certain minor events had happened differently. If there was a zig somewhere instead of a zag, maybe the election would have gone the other way, or the outcome of the revolution would have be different.

In terms of the work we do, contingency means that the success of projects, or the length of an incident, may vary dramatically based on happenstance. Maybe someone happened to be out sick one day and missed a critical meeting, and so didn’t have a certain important bit of information or wasn’t able to give feedback on a design. Maybe someone on the team happened to have prior experience with just the sort of problem that they are all grappling with.

When we look back on successes and failures, they feel inevitable somehow, like there were an inexorable set of forces pushing in the direction that led to the success or failure. You can see that in incident retrospectives in particular, as people search for the cause, the essential reason this happened.

We’re uncomfortable with contingency, preferring essentialism. That’s why so often commit the fundamental attribution error: I snapped at you because I missed lunch, which put me in a grouchy mood; you snapped at me because you’re a hot-tempered jerk.

So, while we do have influence over outcomes, much depends on, well, chance. The difference between success and failure might hinge on the occurrence of a random hallway conversation where we pick up an extra bit of context, or whether our kid has a fever on a particular day and we need to take them to see the doctor.