Profiles in Tech, Part IV: Ambassador to the Republic of Tech
Welcome back to “Profiles in Tech,” a blog series focusing on the unique mindset of those who work in tech.
For the smart minds who are drawn to it, this field can be quite rewarding. There are also challenges, as with any industry.
In my work as a psychotherapist in downtown San Francisco, I’ve been fortunate to get to know engineers, designers, and founders, as well as other professionals (marketers, attorneys, etc.) who work for tech giants and small startups. Along the way, I’ve gotten a sense of how they feel about their work, how that work affects them, what keeps them up at night, and what motivates them. The emerging picture is fascinating and complex.
Each post within “Profiles in Tech” derives from an interview with someone who works (or has worked) within the industry. For the sake of anonymity, I use pseudonyms and change other identifiers.
In this edition, we meet Jake, a software engineer. As with previous installments, I’ll first relay his story, and will then offer a few reflections from a mental health perspective. My goal is to explore this unique mindset, in depth.
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Jake wasn’t trained as a product manager, but working at a small bioscience lab, he’s often thrust into that role. So he winds up figuring out what needs his software can meet.
Naturally, the scientists who give the go-ahead to create that software speak in the language they know. As non-engineers, they’re somewhat mystified by tech, Jake notes, “and they may not think much about how it should work.” This leads to inexact requests, requiring him to carefully construct the right questions to get clarity.
Jake, 34, doesn’t mind - in fact, he’s grateful that he gets to interact with the users of the software he writes. By contrast, developers in other settings are often “siloed in ivory towers,” Jake said. “Software engineering has a unique vocabulary and a way of thinking about the world that most people don’t share. It’s fun to translate what I do to an unfamiliar audience.” He eagerly adds, “I love knowing that the tools I’m making actually save them time.”
With a master’s degree in computer science in hand, Jake left New England hoping that the financial security of a large tech conglomerate in Silicon Valley would keep him satisfied. After a few promotions and consistent feedback that he’d make a good manager, then came an about-face: the realization that he wanted to be closer to industry. Fast-forward to his current gig at a bioscience lab in the South Bay. “I do feel closer to the real world now,” he said.
How does Jake feel about the act of writing software? His quick answer is that “coding by itself isn’t enough fun.” He quickly pivots to expressing gratitude that in his role, he gets to learn some science. “What makes it interesting is applying it to a part of the world that I have an interest in; otherwise it might get old.”
What really frustrates him? Peer review.
Jake and a colleague communicate through JIRA and GitHub, where they check each other’s code, looking for errors. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, the rest of their communication was over Slack, even though their workstations were a few feet apart. Working from home for the past year has brought even more separateness. “I do feel a little detached… you wind up following your thoughts,” he noted.
As Jake sees it, when software developers work alone for a good portion of the day, communicating mainly through technology, it’s easy to get lost in their own perspective. When that communication includes someone’s comments on your coding, it’s easy to feel defensive. “This creates an almost-tribalistic feel - it brings out your base instincts,” he remarked.
Another big frustration: testing. Before his code winds up existing in some usable, finished form on the web, he first has to make sure it works. “A single character can throw off the functionality of thousands of lines of code, so you have to find the needle in the haystack,” he said. “I wind up sighing and cursing at my computer.”
When asked if it’s all worth it, Jake pauses and gives an emphatic “yes.” After all, he adds, “When this stuff gets frustrating, because my living room is my workstation, these days I put on Spotify, take the dog out, get a snack, and come back to it.”
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Ambassador to the Republic of Tech
Jake clearly relishes his role as an ambassador of sorts, between the software and the non-engineers who use it. In translating the language of tech to “an unfamiliar audience,” and opening dialogue around the scientists’ needs, he’s undoubtedly diverging from the bread and butter of computer science. But yet this part of the work excites him, and gives him a sense of purpose.
Readers may recall Rebecca, the senior product manager who encourages her direct reports to talk about feelings, while also attending to the technical side of UX design. In a similar way, Jake thrives by using different sides of his brain. Not just coding, but communication skills too.
Perhaps what draws us to our chosen vocation won’t always be listed in the job requirements. Perhaps we interact with the same work in different ways, identifying and honing in on aspects that appeal to our skill set, our interests, our personality, etc.
WFH
While being able to work from home is a privilege, it can also bring a sense of detachment. Jake has lived that life since the start of the pandemic… writing, troubleshooting and testing code at home.
Separated from coworkers, there are no faces to read, smiles to return, or friendly voices to hear out loud. Dialogue happens through typed questions and answers - limiting the extent of interaction and the range of ideas to be considered. What results? Our own echo chamber of thoughts.
These thoughts can lead to productive places or to daydreams, even for super-intelligent people. And negative thoughts can lead us to feel like crap. We replay conversations we’ve had. We stew about something our colleague said or did. We beat ourselves up about how we handled a situation. We struggle to troubleshoot a problem. All are potential rabbit holes that can consume us. Like all day.
To avoid these rabbit holes, Jake would be wise to:
Set an alarm to take breaks;
Arrange with a peer to run ideas by each other;
Challenge his own assumptions and conclusions;
Ask himself what he’d tell a friend who conveyed the same thought;
Check whether negative thoughts are characterized by common cognitive distortions.
Each of these practices can help him maintain a foothold in reality.
Slacking in communication
In the meantime, when work relationships are confined to words on a screen, we lose something.
Commuting to an office is a pain, but once we’re there, we benefit from the inevitable casual encounters - as we’re walking to our workstation, in the hallway, during lunch, etc.
Why does this matter? Those chance meetings can generate a sense of trust and goodwill, which serves as a buffer against future disagreements. Admittedly, small talk can be so very boring. “Do anything fun this weekend?” can make anyone want to barf, when it comes from someone we’re not close with.
But still, over time these positive or neutral interactions lead us to implicitly regard that coworker as “friend” and not “foe.” In other words, deep down it’s “the one who says hello to me,” “the one I’ve had some conversations with,” or “the one who is basically cordial to me,” etc. With that person in our presence, we’re able to operate freely, not expecting anything bad to happen.
Our amygdala is an almond-shaped structure in the brain that continuously scans our environment for signs of threat. When most interactions are over Slack or other messaging platforms, the amygdala can easily find reasons to see that coworker as “foe” and not “friend.”
It’s easy to read someone else’s words as aggressive, even when that’s not their intention. This can be influenced by that person’s writing style, which creates a unique tone or feel for the reader. Same with word choice, sentence order, and even punctuation. Without being able to see our colleague’s face as they’re typing, or read their body language, we’re just making assumptions.
So many variables to affect how we interpret the meaning, their intention, etc. And so much potential for misunderstanding.
Particular themes may trigger us. In having our work reviewed by a peer, if there’s any hint that our professional competence or intelligence are being questioned, if it feels like our peer is criticizing us or overstepping their bounds, our amygdala may “sound the alarm.”
Adrenaline and cortisol are then released into the bloodstream, ramping us up in that “tribalistic” state that Jake mentioned. We then respond hastily, and may come to regret it.
The bug fix
The answer is to calm your own amygdala, and that of your coworker, before things get out of hand.
Here’s how:
Solution #1: Whether it’s peer review, or just important stuff in a Slack channel, take stock of how you’re doing in the moment. Is your heart beating faster? Is your breath a bit shorter? Are your thoughts about how ridiculous someone’s being? Then pause. Slow down. Before responding, remember that your physiological state will shape that response.
Solution #2: Gently guide yourself back within your window of tolerance, that place where we’re present with our emotions, where we can think and feel at the same time. For several ways to do that, check this out. But at minimum, a few deep, full breaths will help. Like the kind where your lungs slowly fill with air, and then release completely in a long exhale. Repeat that twice.
Solution #3: Once it feels like you’re back within your window of tolerance, try some error-correcting. We’re all prone to thinking that someone “never” does this or “always” does that. Or that whoever upset us is the absolute worst person in the world. Or that this situation will “definitely” end badly. To error-correct, try coming up with a statement that’s more realistic. For example, “Sometimes my colleague is okay, but right now he’s pissing me off.” Or “My day has started off meh, but maybe it’ll get better.”
Solution #4: If it’s not possible to chat face-to-face with your coworker who upset you, after sending an important message electronically, find out how they experienced it. For example, “Hey I wanted to check in about how my message landed with you.” If they feel attacked by your words, hopefully they’ll feel comfortable accepting your invitation to share that, if they sense that you’re coming from a gentle place.
Solution #5: We all could use some help with accepting constructive criticism. Here are some tips: Remind yourself that you’re part of the same organization, with the same mission. Having your code seen by two sets of eyes only makes it stronger. By identifying flaws or suggesting edits, your coworker isn’t necessarily saying you’re incompetent; they’re simply improving your output.
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This story is part of a larger series called “Profiles In Tech,” which explores the unique mindset of those who work in tech… their outlook, their concerns, and their quest for fulfillment. Stay tuned for future installments.
In case you missed it: Check out Part I, which chronicles one programmer’s struggle with what it means to be productive, and the important role that coding plays in his life. Part II introduces us to a front-end engineer who’s questioning whether coding is for him. Part III tells the story of a senior product manager who juggles left-brained technical proficiency and right-brained empathy with her direct reports.
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Andrew Kushnick is a psychotherapist in downtown San Francisco. As a former practicing attorney, Andrew’s approach is practical and concrete, using science-based and evidence-based methods. Video appointments are available during afternoons and evenings.
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