It's a People Problem

 

by Peter de Jager

pdejager@year2000.com

 

 

The Year 2000 problem is the most peculiar problem we've ever faced. One can describe it in a few simple statements. One can easily state the unacceptable consequences of failure to fix the problem. One can even demonstrate the failure of our systems to handle the year 2000, and yet people continue to fail to act.

 

Here, without hype or exaggeration, is the problem in a nutshell:

 

 

The computer applications upon which we depend are broken.

The deadline -- January 1st, 2000 -- is fixed and unavoidable.

The computer industry has a poor reputation for delivering systems on time.

 

 

One would think, if you could prove these three statements, that all rational people would then act to avoid the obvious consequences of failure.

 

Are the systems broken? BT, NatWest, Barclays Bank, Midland Bank, Shell, etc., etc., would answer yes, if you took the time to ask them. They're all spending hundreds of millions of pounds to fix the problems they've discovered in their systems. Anyone claiming that the Year 2000 problem is not real has an obligation to explain why these companies are spending money on a nonexistent problem.

 

They're not spending this money because they've been convinced by some smooth-talking consultant. They're spending this money because they have found problems, large problems, which demand their immediate action to avoid their imminent demise.

 

Nor is it only large organizations with old software which are affected by the Year 2000 problem. If you're a small company running Windows 95 and/or Windows NT, then I suggest you pay close attention to a recent announcement by Microsoft. They have finally admitted publicly that there are Year 2000 problems in Windows 95, Windows NT and the Internet Explorer -- despite very strong statements made over the past two years by Bill Gates that his products were not affected by 'Y2K.'

 

The claims that the Y2K problem is being blown out of proportion have some small degree of merit. The press has taken great delight in repeating that 'planes will fall out of the sky!' It's the sort of fantastic claim which reporters describe as 'good press'; it makes for a great sound byte on the 6 o'clock news. They also take great delight in stories about microwave ovens and VCRs which might or might not work in the near future. This type of story is described as 'making it relevant to the man in the street.'

 

In the first case, the reports are totally without foundation and have never been stated by any reputable computer consultant, and in the second, the discussions are trivial and irrelevant in the extreme. The real issue, the real story, perhaps too hot for the press to handle, is that business and government applications are currently incapable of handling the advent of 2000. No hype or exaggeration is necessary; the news is bad enough without embellishment.

 

I doubt anyone needs any explanation as to why January 1st, 2000, is an unavoidable deadline, so we'll skip to the next statement. "The computer industry has a poor reputation for delivering systems on time." To 'prove' this rather embarrassing statement, one need only ask the following question of any organization: "Over the past three years, what percentage of your computer projects were delivered on time?"

 

If you do take the time to ask this question, if you care about the truth of the Year 2000 claims, you'll uncover the real risk associated with the Year 2000. We're not good at delivering projects on time. Ask the question of several organizations and you'll find that most organizations find it difficult to deliver 50% of their projects on time. This statistic, which is yours to discover in only a few conversations, is important, because delivering this project late is the same as not starting it at all.

 

It's taken a long time to convince people the Year 2000 problem is real. The media and non-technical managers scoffed at the seemingly outrageous claims of a global computer problem. Today there is a growing, albeit grudging, acceptance of the problem. Even those who were once loudest in their attacks on the messengers of bad news are beginning to agree that we have a crisis on our hands.

 

Denial of truth always has a consequence. The time taken to convince people of the severity of the problem was stolen from the time necessary to implement the solution. A shortage of time is something we now have to live with.

 

Take any problem; the sooner you start fixing it, the less people you will need to accomplish your goal. Leave the problem until the very last possible moment and you'll need more people, better management, and lots of luck to complete your project on time. That's where the Y2K problem is today. We've not left ourselves much time, and an immediate and inescapable result of this delay is a shortage of programmers.

 

The USA is the furthest along the path to implementing their solutions. It is estimated by the Information Technology Association of America (ITAA) that they have a current shortfall of some 340,000 programmers. This figure is disputed by others, but everyone agrees that when American companies place an advertisement for new technical staff, they receive few, if any, resumes.

 

Whatever the actual number of unfilled positions, American companies are placing ads around the world, hiring staff from companies and countries who have not yet realized that people are indeed their most valuable resource.

 

This poaching of skilled resources from one country to the next is an exercise in short-sightedness. Canada is pushing to relax immigration laws to bring in more skilled workers. The US has done the same, and Tony Blair, in his Year 2000 address on March 30th at the Barbican in London, stressed that Y2K should be seen as an 'opportunity for Britain.' These geocentric views ignore the reality of a world transformed by technology into a giant juggling act of critical co-operation and co-dependencies.

 

So how do we move forward if the programmers necessary to fix the problem are in short supply? To the credit of the British Labour Government, they're thinking along the right lines. If you don't have enough of something, you don't just have the option of stealing from someone else, you have an alternative: you can create more of what you need.

 

The notion, proposed by Mr. Blair, of training some 20,000 'bug busters' is an interesting one. Done properly, it could set an example for companies, not just in the UK, but world-wide. Done without thinking, it will be just another example of how government can spend good money in a crisis to no effect, money which would have served you better by remaining in your pocket.

 

To waste this money, all you need do is make three false assumptions.

 

 

•First, that programming is an easy-to-learn skill which can be taught in a handful of weeks.

 

•Second, that anyone with an honest, sincere desire to earn a living can turn themselves into a programmer if given a chance.

 

•Third, that once these folks have been given their training, companies will let them run amuck inside their computer systems without constant supervision.

 

 

It is tempting to respond to the government's offer of financial assistance by rounding up some 20,000 of the worthy unemployed and giving them a crash course in programming. This tactic would, I think, be guilty of all three of the above-mentioned assumptions.

 

Unfortunately, programming, while not rocket science, is not exactly an easy skill to acquire. Secondly, the best of intentions will not make a good programmer, and finally, no amount of training, in the time available, will transform a total neophyte into a programmer capable of independent work.

 

Having said all this, the idea of training 20,000 new programmers still has merit. Especially if you can find 20,000 non-programmers who already have some sort of rudimentary programming experience, already have a proven aptitude for computers, and already have the trust of the very companies who need their help.

 

In fact, I would make a quick guess and raise the number of suitable candidates to about 500,000 in the UK alone.

 

These potential candidates are hiding in plain sight in every company in the UK.

 

They've never taken a programming course but have acquired the rudiments of programming.

 

They've never been pushed towards computers but have discovered their own natural affinity to computers and have gravitated towards them as naturally as bees to pollen.

 

And finally, they've not sought out responsibility but have earned it by demonstrating a desire to capitalize on their skills. They even have a label, sometimes used in a derogatory manner -- they're the Power Users of business.

 

A Power User is the person in your organization who everyone turns to when they need help with their PC. They're the people who write the complicated spreadsheets, who understand how to change fonts in your word processor. They're the brave souls who have the patience, the courage and tenacity of a bulldog necessary solve a typical Windows 95 problem. These are the people most suitable for the training proposed by Mr. Blair. (Although I'd suggest a more professional label than 'corporate bug buster' be found to describe their invaluable function in the organization.)

 

Anyone in your organization who has trained themselves to write spreadsheet macros, is more than capable of learning to use COBOL or the tools which are being deployed to solve the Year 2000 problem.

 

A strategy of some tightly-focused training, and then the assignment of several of these pseudo-programmers to a regular programmer could provide a significant productivity boost to many organizations.

 

These Power Users have usually acquired their skills in direct opposition to office policy. These people were not hired to become computer experts; instead, they became experts simply because they liked using the computer. No coercion was involved; in fact, it's usually impossible to keep these folks away from computers, even when they should be doing other things around the office.

 

Finally, Power Users are often seen as a crucial part of any office. They understand, better than most, how the business systems work. They are not only called upon to solve problems on PCs, but also to provide insight on possible problems with the larger systems -- the very systems most likely to be affected by the Year 2000 problem.

 

There are some other benefits of turning Power Users into Bug Busters, rather than hiring people off the street. For one, the strength of these pseudo-programmers lies mainly in system knowledge unique to their current employer. They are less likely to be the target of head hunters seeking to steal your best talent.

 

Another benefit is that the additional training is perceived as a benefit and possibly as an opportunity to acquire additional computer experience.

 

Finally, there's yet another unexpected benefit: Power Users are the perfect choice for testing the systems once the applications have been modified for Year 2000. They're actually better than the existing programmers because they have user experience of the applications, something regular programmers seldom have.

 

Looking to the community of Power Users is not a perfect solution to the programmer shortage; it's just the best solution available. Just because someone finds the PC fun to use does not mean they will enjoy using COBOL or enjoy the mind-numbing work of Y2K remediation.

 

There are the obvious benefits of increasing your skills and possibly even your salary but these might not be enough to entice the Power User away from what they're already used to using daily. One could add in another incentive, but in this age of cynicism I'm almost afraid to voice it: by fixing the Y2K problem, you're helping your company or government to survive. Sounds dramatic, even melodramatic, but I believe that it will be the necessary, and sufficient, argument for some who will choose to help out and become a 'Bug Buster.'

 

The Year 2000 problem is no longer a technical problem, it's a people problem.

 

It was created by people, both programmers and management, when we decided together to make compromises in quality in order to save space, money and time.

 

It was perpetuated by people who decided that what we did yesterday was good enough for today and did not look out to tomorrow and evaluate the inevitable consequences of cutting corners on quality.

 

It was exacerbated by people who scoffed at warnings which they could have been proven true if they had only taken the time to look at the problem objectively.

 

It was turned into a crisis by people who left it until the last moment.

 

And it will be solved by all of us, as we begin to treat it with the respect it deserves.

 

 

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Copyright 1998, Peter de Jager. For permission to reprint, please contact the author.