A confession

We follow Scrum at work. People have modified Scrum and several flavours are available. Scaled Agile Delivery is interesting. We are not process maniacs, we skip few things when the team agrees.

Close to three-fourths in our team has less than five years of experience in software development. They are energetic and they want to learn everything. I deviate from this opinion because I believe in making smaller teams that are good in one area or two at the max. We discussed this in length but I am not sure what is going to come in the next sprints. I note quotes and wordings from movies; these lines from The Incredibles came to my mind when I was preparing for our discussion.

And when everyone’s super…no one will be.

Translating this into software development, my words were “if everyone is an expert, no one really is“.

While we are discussing about movies, I want to quote another of my favourite from Ratatouille.

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the *new*. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto, “Anyone can cook.” But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere*. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau’s, who is, in this critic’s opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau’s soon, hungry for more.


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