Not My Money Any More: Lessons from Poker 4

Here is my first lesson from poker. I take that back. My first lesson from poker is when two strangers ask if they can join the game, lose a little all night, then offer to cut the cards for $100 as the game is breaking up, count the deck before and then after they turn up the ace.

Okay, so this was my second lesson from poker: as soon as it leaves my hand it’s not my money any more. The day after the game I was incredibly frustrated. I’d lost and lost all night long. I kept rebuying and losing, rebuying and losing. All I could think about was when was the next game so I could win my money back.

Over the course of the next week I became obsessed by that thought: I was going to win my money back. At the same time, a part of me was standing off to one side say, “Excuse me, hello, this doesn’t make any sense.” At some point I figured out how to articulate what was wrong with my thinking–it wasn’t my money. It wasn’t my money as soon as someone else won the hand. In fact, it wasn’t my money as soon as I put my bet in. I gave my money to the game, the game gave the money to the winner, and that was that. I couldn’t win my money back because it wasn’t my money.

Peace. Sometimes obsession works like that. You figure out what’s wrong with your thinking and the cycle just stops. This was one of those times. It wasn’t my money. I couldn’t get it back, because it wasn’t mine. The next time I played, I was just playing. I started with $20 and went from there.

Many of you will have recognized the Sunk Cost Fallacy. Money already bet is gone, sunk. It makes no sense to factor it into your decision making. I knew about the Sunk Cost Fallacy, but I wasn’t spotting it in my own thinking.

The same situation comes up all the time in programming. You have a long refactoring session, every step of which is perfectly safe. Then you run the tests. A test breaks. What should you do? What should you do if the error isn’t obvious? What should you do if the error isn’t obvious and you have been refactoring for a minute? An hour? A day? Does the amount of time invested have anything to do with how you proceed?

My experience is that the right thing to do in a situation where I don’t know what I did to break the tests is immediately return to my last known green state and re-run the tests. Then I begin refactoring again and run the dang tests every step. But, and here’s the irrational part, the longer I’ve been refactoring, the more tempted I am to press on. That’s the Sunk Cost Fallacy at work.

The longer I’ve been refactoring, the less well I remember all the steps, the harder it will be to spot the error, the greater the value of just starting over. The harder it is to start over (emotionally), the more valuable it is to start over.

It’s not my time any more. Have I been refactoring for a minute? An hour? A day? Doesn’t matter. It’s not my time any more. I’ve given it to the program. It’s gone. What I should do now should not be influenced by the magnitude of time I already have invested. It’s not my time any more.

As I was writing this I occurred to me that I’ve been guilty of a variation on the Sunk Cost Fallacy with JUnit. If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you’ve heard me whining about not having found a business model to turn the success of JUnit into revenue. The faulty reasoning goes like this: JUnit has created all of this value in the world (billions of dollars by my envelope calculations) and I haven’t received any of it.

So what? If JUnit hadn’t created any value at all so far but was still in the same position, what should I do? Exactly the same as if it had created a million dollars of value or a billion. It’s the Sunk Benefit Fallacy. What’s past is done. It’s not my benefit. All that matters is the current situation. Any energy or thought I expend on the past will only muddle my thinking.

So here’s my resolution. I will think about the current state of developer testing, figure out the trends, and get ahead of the curve. That’s how I will make a living from JUnit. Oh, and I’ll be sure to count the deck, or better yet, not gamble with strangers.