Nothing Works

Anyone who’s ever tried their hand at programming knows the feeling. You start the day brimming with enthusiasm, ready to conquer the world of code. You try to write the perfect algorithm, build an elegant system, or solve a problem that seems as simple as designing a calculator app. After a few hours, you still have no idea how to do it, and all that joy has disappeared like bytes into memory.

You’re not alone. Nothing works. And it’s not that something’s wrong with you, your code, or the tools you’ve chosen. That’s just how it is. But let’s break it down.

The first reason nothing works is that magical phrase: “It works on my machine!” So once again, you’re faced with something that makes no sense. Why does this “magical environment” exist only in your colleague’s mind, running flawlessly, while on your machine, the project won’t even start? Maybe it’s the operating system, the Python version, an API gateway - or maybe your computer just doesn’t like you enough.

Sure, we’ve got containers, virtualization, and countless tools to “replicate” environments. But we forgot one thing: your machine is moodier than your favorite version-control tool. And when you finally figure it out, you discover one of your teammates is using a “special version” of the same tool - the one no one else uses because “I’ve always had it that way.”

Building a system from scratch is a fantastic adventure. Until you have to deploy it. Because then - nothing, literally NOTHING, works. The server plays hide-and-seek, database queries go rogue, and your applications refuse to talk to each other because each one has a different version of some package that shouldn’t even be there. Worse still, every morning you hope the day will be better, only to end it with the same question: “Why doesn’t anything work?”

“Why doesn’t it work?” is the same question our ancestors asked while trying to understand why the stones wouldn’t stack into a pyramid. Think these problems are just technical? Wrong. It’s also a profound, philosophical question about the meaning of life in the tech era.

When you finally accept that nothing works, you decide to try the simplest thing in the world: read the documentation. And that’s when the real adventure begins. “Okay, here we go. How does this even work?” you ask yourself as you dive into the labyrinth of documentation. Instead of answers, you’re greeted with a list of dependencies that lead you to another million pages of incomprehensible jargon. Thankfully, there are “examples” included, which - as it turns out - don’t work because they were written five years ago when Python 2.7 was still a thing.

You feel like a kid in a toy store, unable to find any toy you want, while simultaneously holding 30 others that don’t fit together. Documentation is a riddle, one that typically ends with a desperate search for answers on the internet.

Let’s not forget the next critical step in the process - code reviews. What’s supposed to be a moment of mutual assistance often devolves into your code being ridiculed by colleagues who are convinced you know far less than you do. You hear questions like, “Why did you use that operator?” or “What’s this?” or “Where are the tests?” And all you can say is: “I know I didn’t do that, but everything was working until now, so why bother?” Suddenly, your motivation to code vanishes completely.

Sure, we’re all here to write perfect code, but after a few hours of concentrated effort, even your computer starts wondering if there’s been some misunderstanding.

But don’t worry - you’re in good company. Your colleagues are grappling with the same issues. Once in a while, you get a notification that everything is working, but you have no idea how or why. You hit Ctrl+Z more often than ever because, let’s admit it, a programmer’s life is a constant cycle of undoing and trying to fix what doesn’t work.

And just when you think something finally works, it throws up a delightful error like, “Are you sure you want to continue?” - reminding you that the world of IT is a place where nothing works. But so what? We’re used to it, right?

Ultimately, it’s not about whether something works. It’s about how long you can hide the fact that it doesn’t.