10,000+ synonyms for Quality Assurance

I recently had a conversation with my team about what we should call the status between when work is passed “code review” but not yet “done”. The one thing I didn’t want to call it was “In QA”. One of the developers on my team had another idea that I decided to run with:

Let me explain.

Much like Richard Bradshaw says in this video on “QA” as a term, it doesn’t make much sense to me to name one stage of a feature’s development as if that was the only stage at which QA was done. Michael Bolton regularly insists that quality assurance isn’t even a thing testers do (or should do). (Although interestingly when I brought this up in Testers Chat, Michael was the one to ask whether the name we picked would even make a material difference.) The argument generally goes that testers don’t assure quality. We can do all sorts of other things to it—inform it, study it, encourage it, foster it—but we can’t guarantee or enforce it. We especially can’t do it after the code is written.

Maybe this one is better?

I’ve mentioned before that the terminology at my company is “QA” rather than “Testing”. Asking the difference between “QA” and “Testing” is another sure-fire way to spark debate but I don’t think a piece of development should ever be in a discrete “In Testing” phase either. Generally I’m not too concerned about calling it one or the other; I’m much more interested in what people are actually doing. I haven’t seen any of the dire warnings about using “quality assurance” come true where I am now, but I’m not going to risk encouraging it with an “In QA” phase.

Here’s a third attempt at a better name for QA:

The idea that the developer on my team had was this: if I was so set against calling it anything but “QA”, let’s just take synonyms for “quality” and “assurance” and come up with something that didn’t have all that baggage. He was joking, but I ran with it. I ran with it about 13 thousand times.

Here, come up with some of your own:

This is a little script that will randomly pick alternative terms for “quality assurance”. Very rarely it might actually suggest you stick with “quality assurance”. I do not vouch for any of these being good suggestions, but I think at this point I’m more interested in discussing the merits of “quirk investigation” vs “constitution corroboration” than I am hearing more complaints about “quality assurance” as a term.

The standalone link is here if you want to keep generating more ideas, and I even made a helpful Twitter robot that’ll tweet out a new idea every day. Hit me up on my Twitter or leave a comment if you want to make sure your favourite synonyms are included. Let the pedantry begin!

Testing is like a box of rocks

I was inspired today by Alan Page’s Test Automation Snowman. He makes all good points, but let’s be honest, the model is the same as the good ol’ test pyramid. The only difference is that he’s being explicit about tests at the top of the pyramid being slow and tests at the bottom being fast. Ok, so maybe the snowman thing is a joke, but it did make me think about what might make a better visualization. I quickly doodled something on a sticky note:

A sticky note with a lot of tiny circles in the bottom third, medium circles in the middle third, and a few large circles in the top third.

If the point we want to emphasize is that UI tests are slow (and therefore take a lot of time), we should include that in the visualization! The problem with the pyramid (and the snowman) is that the big tests take up the least amount of space; the small triangle at the top makes it look like having fewer UI tests also means you do less UI testing.

It doesn’t.

At least, not proportionately. If you had an equal number of UI and unit tests, it’s a safe bet that you’re going to spend more of your time working on the UI tests.

So instead, let’s say testing is like a box of rocks. Each rock is a test, and I have to choose how to allocate the space in that box to fit all the rocks that I want. A few big rocks are going to take up a lot more space than a bunch of tiny pebbles. Unless I have a good reason why that big boulder is a lot more interesting than the hundred little rocks I could put in its place, I’m going to go for the little rocks! If I have to add a new rock (to kill a new bug, say) I probably want to choose the smallest one that’ll still do the job.

You can still think about the different levels (unit vs API vs UI, for example) if you picture the little rocks at the bottom forming a foundation for bigger rocks on top. I don’t know if rocks work like that. Just be careful not to get this whole thing confused with that dumb life metaphor.

Ok, it might not be the best model, but I’ll stick with it for now. And like the Alan’s snowman, you’re free to ignore this one too.

Testing on Dune (Part 1)

I recently read Frank Herbert’s Dune and was surprised to find a couple passages on testing. I thought it would be fun to take them completely out of context (that’s a good habit for testers, right?) and try to apply them to software instead of spice. Here’s the first:

Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it’s a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.

—Bene Gesserit proverb, from Frank Herbert’s Dune

This proverb appeared in one of the excerpts from in-universe books that open each chapter, all meant to have been written after the main events of the story and usually highlighting some important aspects of the plot or characters in the chapter to come.

To be honest, I’m not really sure what the relevance of this passage to the story was. It comes immediately before the chapter where Lady Jessica finds the greenhouse in their new home on Arrakis. In it, she finds a warning that there are double agents among them advancing a plot to overthrow the Duke. Maybe these initial clues at treachery are like the first steps on the road, or the first bit of the mountain. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

Is there any way we can say this proverb applies to software testing?

One interesting bit for us is the advice to “climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it’s a mountain.” My first thought was that it could be about how you can’t practically test everything completely, but it equally implies that you could climb the mountain or follow the road to its end (whereas you can’t test everything). This isn’t saying anything about what’s possible or not. I’d be inclined to say that it means we don’t need to climb the mountain—that we can tell it’s a mountain without going to the summit—except for the other half of the proverb:

From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.

This isn’t as easy to recklessly apply to software. With the road, once you’ve gone to the end of it, it goes nowhere else. For the mountain, it sounds like the essence of the mountain is that it is this large thing towering above the landscape. It’s something that goes up. So you can’t appreciate its mountain-ness from the top. Does this apply to software? Do we lose something about the software by testing it to its end? It might work on something like scientific study—once you understand everything there’s no more science to do—but a piece of software doesn’t stop being useful just because we’ve already exercised everything it can do.

Alternatively, perhaps it means that you lose sight of what the mountain or the road are once you’re that far along them. When you’re fully immersed in something, when you’ve studied that software every way you can think of and think you understand it inside and out, you lose the ability to see it as a beginner or an outsider. As a tester, when you become an expert on a particular system, do you risk losing the ability to see the software for what it is? I don’t feel like that has ever happened to me, but it’s also the sort of thing that you wouldn’t notice happening. It is certainly true that the things I think to test on a product after two years are different from what I would test if I were seeing it for the first time. Hopefully it’s because I know more and have a better idea of where the risks are, but maybe not.

This would be where it would be helpful to understand what the passage actually meant in the context of the novel. Maybe there’s nothing here about testing at all even though it mentions how to test something. I’d love to hear other interpretations!

In a future post, when I don’t have a real testing topic for the week, I’ll post the second passage from the book that is quite the opposite: there’s no specific mention of testing but it will be quite familiar to how we test. (Update: part two is here.)

My first game of TestSphere

Today (as I write this, last week as it is published) I had my first experience playing TestSphere. I’ve had a deck for ages but only recently suggested trying to play it with the QA community of practice in my department. Going from never having played it at all to facilitating a session with a whole group was quite a leap and I wasn’t at all sure how it would go. Here’s some of my observations about the experience.

Test sphere cards laid out on a table

Seven thoughts about TestSphere

1. Ten’s a crowd: The weekly meeting of the group usually has anywhere from 4 to 16 people attending, with the typical number around 12. I planned on playing the standard game, which the box says is best for 4 to 8 people. I was prepared to split us into two groups if needed, but in the end tried playing with the full group of 10 that came that day.

2. One for all or a bunch for each: The instructions say to reveal one or more cards depending on the experience level of the group, though it’s not clear to me which way those should correlate. I decide to go with one card of each colour so there would be a variety of types ofthings to think about. This turned out to be exactly the wrong number. Though I deliberately put us as a small table, people still had to pick up cards from the middle to read them. As soon as we started, 5 people were reading cards and 5 people were doing nothing. Should I do this again, I would try one extreme or the other: 1 or 2 cards that the whole group could focus on together, or 3-5 cards each to think about independently and have people play cards from their own hand. In the latter case I can then imagine combo play (“I have a card that applies to that story!” or “I have an experience with that too, plus this other concept from my hand”) but let’s not get carried away.

3. Combining cards: Nobody attempted to combine multiple cards into a single story, which I thought would be part of the fun of trying to “win”. This may have just been because people were passing cards around one at a time rather than looking at them as a group. I suspect it would have been easier to combine cards with fewer people or ones that was already familiar with the cards.

4. Minimalism: We didn’t make use of most of the text on the cards. The examples are great and really show the amount of good work Beren Van Daele and the MoT put into designing the deck, but it was just too much to make use of in this format. While the extra text is useful to fully understand the concept, a minimal deck with just the concept, slogan, and a simple graphic might be less intimidating. (The Easter egg here is that Minimalism is one of the cards we talked about in our group today; going back and reading the card again I’m really torn by this since the examples really do illuminate it in a way the slogan alone doesn’t, and the three are so different from each other that even limiting it to one would not be quite the same.)

5. Waiting patiently: The group naturally developed a pattern of picking up new cards as soon as they came up and holding on to them until it was their turn to tell the story. I wouldn’t say that I expected it to be a raucous fight for cards and who got to tell their story first, but I didn’t expect it to be so calm and orderly either. Once or twice this resulted in someone who had picked up a card just to read it seemingly getting stuck into telling a story about that card whether they meant to or not.

6. Everybody had a story: The energy of the game varied quite a bit depending on who was speaking. Some people are just better story tellers or more comfortable with public speaking than others. Nonetheless, I was quite happy that nobody dominated the conversation too much, and by the end everybody had shared at least once. I had laid out a rule at the beginning that if two people had a story to share we would defer to whoever hadn’t spoken yet, but we only had to invoke it once.

7. My QA is not your QA: Several times I was surprised with the stories people told given the card they picked up, often struggling to see what the connection was. To me this illustrates how differently people think, which would keep this interesting to play with another group of people. Not only that, but they’ll likely work quite easily outside of QA circles. At one point we had only one person left who hadn’t collected any cards yet. “I’m a developer,” he said, “I only have developer stories.” But when prompted he was able to pick up a card just as easily as anybody else.

The forgotten debrief

In the end, we shared about 15 stories in 50 minutes. Overall I think it was a good experience, and it was a neat way to hear more about everybody’s experiences on other teams. Unfortunately I didn’t manage time well and we got kicked out of the meeting room before I had a chance to debrief with anybody about their experience with the game. Some ideas for focus questions I had jotted down (roughly trying to follow an ORID model) were:

  1. What are some of the concepts and examples that came up on the cards?
  2. Were there concepts someone else talked about that you also had a story for? Were any concepts totally new to you?
  3. Did anything surprise you about the experiences others shared? What did you learn about someone that you didn’t know before? What did or didn’t work well about this experience?

and finally:

  1. Would you play again?

Agile Testing book club: Let them feel pain

This is the second part is a series of exercises where I highlight one detail from a chapter or two of Agile Testing by Janet Gregory and Lisa Crispin. Part one of the series can be found here. This installment comes from Chapter 3.

Let them feel pain

This chapter is largely about making the transition into agile workflows, and the growing pains that can come from that. I’ve mentioned before on this blog that when I went through that transition, I worried about maintaining the high standard of testing that we had in place. The book is coming from a slightly different angle, of trying to overcome reluctance to introducing good quality practices, but the idea is the same. This is the sentence that stuck out most to me in the whole chapter:

Let them feel pain: Sometimes you just have to watch the train wreck.

I did eventually learn this lesson, though it took probably 6 months of struggling against the tide and a tutorial session by Mike Sowers at STAR Canada on metrics before it really sunk in. Metrics are a bit of a bugaboo in testing these days, but just hold your breath and power through with me for a second. Mike was going over the idea of “Defect Detection Percentage”, which basically just asks what percentage of bugs you caught before releasing. The usefulness of it was that you can probably push it arbitrarily high, so that you catch 99% of bugs before release, but you have to be willing to spend the time to do it. On the other end, maybe your customers are happy with a few bugs if it means they get access to the new features sooner, in which case you can afford to limit the kinds of testing you do. If you maintain an 80% defect detection percentage and still keep your customers happy, it’s not worth the extra time testing it’d take to get that higher. Yes this all depends on how you count bugs, and happiness, and which bugs you’re finding, and maybe you can test better instead of faster, but none of that is the point. This is:

If you drop some aspect of testing and the end result is the same, then it’s probably not worth the effort to do it in the first place.

There are dangers here, of course. You don’t want to drop one kind of testing just because it takes a lot of time if it’s covering a real risk. People will be happy only until that risk manifests itself as a nasty failure in the product. As ever, this is an exercise of balancing concerns.

Being in a bad spot

Part of why this idea stuck with me at the time was that the rocky transition I was going through left me in a pretty bad mental space. I eventually found myself thinking, “Fine, if nobody else cares about following these established test processes like I do, then let everybody else stop doing them and we’ll see how you like it when nothing works anymore.”

This is the cynical way of reading the advice from Janet and Lisa to “let them feel pain” and sit back to “watch the train wreck”. In the wrong work environment you can end up reaching the same conclusion from a place of spite, much like I did. But it doesn’t have to come from a negative place. Mike framed it in terms of metrics and balancing cost and benefit in a way that provided some clarity for an analytical mind like mine, and I think Lisa and Janet are being a bit facetious here deliberately. Now that I’m working in a much more positive space (mentally and corporately) I have a much better way of interpreting this idea: the best motivation for people to change their practices is for them to have reason to change them.

What actually happened for us when we started to drop our old test processes was that everything was more or less fine. The official number of bugs recorded went down overall, but I suspect that was as much a consequence of the change in our reporting habits in small agile teams as anything else. We definitely still pushed bugs into production, but they weren’t dramatically worse than before. What I do know for sure is that nobody came running to me saying “Greg you were right all along, we’re putting too many bugs into production, please save us!”

If that had happened, then great, there would be motivation to change something. But it didn’t, so we turned our attention to other things entirely.

Introducing change (and when not to)

When thinking about this, I kept coming back to two other passages that I had highlighted earlier in the same chapter:

If you are a tester in an organization that has no effective quality philosophy, you probably struggle to get good quality practices accepted. The agile approach will provide you with a mechanism for introducing good quality-oriented practices.

and also

If you’re a tester who is pushing for the team to implement continuous integration, but the programmers simply refuse to try, you’re in a bad spot.

Agile might provide a way of introducing new processes, but it doesn’t mean that anybody is going to want to embrace or even try them. If you have to twist some arms to get a commitment to try something new for even one sprint, if it doesn’t have a positive (or at least neutral) impact you better be prepared to let the team drop it (or convince them that the effects need more time to be seen). If everybody already feels that the deployment process is going swimmingly, why do you need to introduce continuous integration at all?

It might be easy when it’s deciding not to keep something new, but when already established test processes were on the line, this was a very hard thing for me to do. In a lot of ways it was like being forced to admit that we had been wrong about what testing we needed to be doing, even though all of it had been justified at one time or another. We had to realize that certain tests were generating pain for the team, and the only way we could tell if that was really worth it was to drop them and see what happens.

The take away

Today I’m in a much different place. I’m no longer coping with the loss or fragmentation of huge and well established test processes, but rather looking at establishing new processes on my team and those we work with. As tempting as it is to latch onto various testing ideas and “best” practices I hear about, it’s likely wasted effort if I don’t first ask “where are we feeling the most pain?”