Monday, September 17, 2012

From old to new: dealing with legacy software

A tricky problem is to deal with software legacy.
I think I have never been anywhere where I did not need to deal with legacy some way or another. In fact my first task on my first job was to improve the performance of "old" design rule checker (DRC) by upgrading its geometric store with a KD-tree. That was during a summer job, and later as employee, I was asked to write a new DRC to replace the old one. (A DRC is used to check geometric rules in layouts of integrated circuits). The new DRC was better than the old one, and part of an automated layout tool for analog circuit, which... ultimatly failed. Commercially the project did break even, but other systems worked better. Looking back, with the hindsight of knowing which system succeeded, this CAD sytem failed to approach the problem the right way, which was incrementaly. For example, the requirements for the DRC were: do what the old software does but better and faster, yet they really should have been "make it incremental": a small change in the input should generate only moderate of work to revalidate the rules.

Legacy is about dealing with code that exists already and that causes you trouble. Typically the trouble is that the legacy software is equivalent to a massive traffic jam where it is no longer economic to work on it. Changes to the software are simply too expensive: they take too long and they are risky. Unlike new software, legacy software is already in use, and this simple fact is the root of all problems: it makes you stupid!  Take the example of that DRC project, my boss had said “do what the old software does but better and faster”,  I wrote a great boolean operations on large geometric figures package; It was fast, it was better than the previous package, but… it was not what was needed!  This is what I call  the “dumbifying” effect of legacy software, and the subject of this post.

When a magician performs a trick, you may know the magician is tricking you but mostly unable to do anything than to “fall for it” and think it looks real. Legacy software is a little bit like a nasty magician, it makes things look more real than they deserve. So for example, if your team tells you they can rewrite a legacy system, your tendency will be to believe them, just because the legacy system exists already and this somehow makes you more confident. If you are given analysis of the legacy system and it is incomplete, you will judge it less harshly than analysis for new yet to be written system. If your team tells you they can only test 10% of the features of your legacy system, you might say that is better than nothing, while a proposal to test “only” 10% coverage of a new system would be treated as a joke.   Legacy software is a little bit like a con artist! It puts down your guards and corrupts your sense of proportion. Worse than that, legacy software makes you feel bad when you think of some of its “legacy properties”, the result is like a Jedi mind shield, legacy software actually blocks you from thinking clearly by making you suffer when you look at it "truthfully "!

In a former job, as a development manager, I was continuously saying “no”, “no”, “no”… to the same question which was “can we rewrite it”. The thing is that rewriting legacy software when you have not yet accepted to look at it “truthfully” is often not going to work. So here are my recommendation on how approach you legacy software:
  • Never believe you can rewrite legacy software from scratch without keeping something. Maybe you are keeping a protocol, maybe you are keeping the business functionalities, maybe you are keeping the algorithm, but you need to keep something.
  • Keep what is most precious in your legacy software. Again, it might be the protocol, the business functionalities, .. but as you need to keep something (see above) you want to make sure that you keep what is most valuable. The more the better!
  • Make sure to deeply analyze what you have identified as valuable and that you want to keep in the legacy software. Analyze it to death, until it hurts!  That is because by default, you will shy away from doing this analysis, and that will cost you!  This is the really the number one rule with legacy software: do not let “it” convince you that you do not need to analyze what you will keep! (See dumbifying and con artist remark above).
  • Also, bring in new resources to provide fresh views on your legacy analysis. Again, by default the legacy will bias you, bring in someone that can look you problem and solution without prior experience with the legacy software.
Sometimes what you want to keep is deeply imbedded into your legacy software, for example as an implied data model or API. Do not hesitate to use “tricks” to extract it out at the lowest cost. For example you can extend your types to produce a trace info with each operation, to then analyze the trace files extract an implied structure.
Once I wanted to extract an implied model in C++, so I wrote a “hand crafted” C++ parser. It took about three days, I started with an equivalent yacc and lex and the first C++ file to parse, and proceeded to write the parser to parse exactly what I needed in the first file, extending the parser by running the parser over and over, line after line. When I got to the second file, I was already moving by a few lines at a time with each iteration, and by the end of the effort I had parsed the 50 or so files that had the data I needed.
Finally, do not forget the business: if you are in it to make a profit, never write code unless it is supporting your business strategy. This is probably the hardest part with legacy software: your business and marketing people usually have no idea how to approach your legacy rework. If you not careful your development will effectively hijack your legacy strategy and possibly lead you into business oblivion.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Its is buggy world

I would normally not want to talk about bugs, because they are a fact of life, but today two bug related issues happened. The first one was spending 30m with a developer who was stuck with bug. He had previously been asked to validate a series of assumptions, he had only partially done that, and it looked like we were making only little progress until in a post meeting cafeteria moment he mentioned that he was using yet another feature of an API, something that had never been mentioned before. That was the aha moment, and hopefully fix the bug.

The second bug was in code that yet again I was refactoing. You might remember I have a coroutine like functionality my F# super monad. I had taken that feature out to extend the monad and when I put it back in, one function failed to compile. As this is my typical late evening programming, I was watching TV, web surfing, and watching skateboarding on youtube. And suddenly what had been a routine exercise of coding became a pain and I ended up going to bed at midnight with an unhappy feeling. I'll admit I wondered if I was getting too old for this, no being able to do it! (i.e. programming).

So I started my day ready for action; I have three programming slots in one day: going to work, coming back and late evening. I missed the first slot: I missed my bus and was offered a drive. So it was only this early evening on the way home that I managed to get my laptop out and proceeded to carefully analyse what was happening. Like with all bugs this one was behaving illogically. But then I noted something even more strange: the compiler error was "talking to me"; It was giving the types "human names" even though I had no type anotations (see a previous post on why I try not to explicity declare signatures).  Was this a compiler bug? Sure enough, the function just above my problem had some old type anotations, so I reversed the order of declations and the bug was gone.

All this to say that when you are debugging you really need to apply a very rigid enumerative logic approach, and that yes, compiler bugs still happen, and that finally I am not getting too old for this type of fun.

Thursday, September 06, 2012

Where is my state?

People often associated functional programming with statelessness. The reality is that there is always a notion of state, functional programming is about stateful programming. The ambiguity is probably the result of state appearing in different ways than in a procedural style.

In a procedural style, state is associated to memory and you change it by using the writable property of memory.

In a functional style, state is still in memory  but the “classical” approach is to disallow yourself from changing it by writing again over memory. This is the immutable programming style. It goes with functional programming because it is very difficult to build on immutability without some functional programming concepts (I have tried!).  So if you have state and you cannot write over it, the only thing you can do is to read it, and if you want to change the state, you need to write a new memory location with your new state value (a non-functional  near immutable approach is to use arrays and grow them). The problem for beginners is “where should that new state be”?  It needs  to be accessable, and while you maybe knew how to access the old state, where should you put the new state so as to be able to work with it, instead of the old state?
Recursiveness is then the first  way  to manage state; The idea is that if you have a function F that works with state, then if you create a new version of the state you can simply call F recursively  with the new state, and again and again with each new version of the state.

Recursiveness is always somewhere nearby if you are using immutability; Yet you do not need to expose it to manage state. Again, suppose a function F uses state, have it return its state after use, if the state has not changed, then  return it unchanged, if the state changed, then return its new version. The trick is then to have a loop that calls F with the state, then takes the returned value to call F again, and so on. As this is immutable code, the loop is a small tail recursive function.

State can be big and heavy, and not for the wrong reasons, your application may be a big thing. The last thing you want to do is to copy that whole structure just to make a small change. The simple approach is to reuse parts of your old state to make a new state, changing only what needs to be changed. Yet  as the state is usually a tree like structure, if what is changing is deep in the original state, then it will cost you to create a new state because you will need to rebuild much of the hierarchy of the state. One way around this is to take the old state, encapsulate it in a “change of state” structure and use this as the new state  This approach is what I call a differential approach: the state change is the difference. By stacking differences you build a complete state. Usually the differential approach is combined with the “normal” partial copy approach. The reason is that if pursued forever, the “stack” of state changes become too big and starts both to consume memory and take time to access.

In the end your new state will either leave your function “onwards” into recursion or backwards by return, and often the same algorithm may use both methods.
When beginning with the functional style, state seems to be forever a pain to drag around. But with time patterns appear. First you may notice that not all states have the same lifetime, and they do not all have the same read write properties. It is a good idea to try to separate states that have different access and update properties.  You may then note that the hierarchy of functions aligns itself to with the access patterns of your state. Yet if you tie state to function in an layered like fashion that is classical to procedural programming you realize that what you have is not so much state as parameters. That is, while you are working in an inner function you have no ability to modify the outer “state”, so it is more a parameter like than state like. Nevertheless, with situation where states have a strict hierarchy, this approach is ok.

At some point, carrying around state becomes such a standardized routine that  it makes sense to look for help to go to the next level. And the next level is… monads. Here is the deal, I said before that states will either exit your function through a further recursion or by return.  That means that there is a set of compatible patterns that can be used to assemble little bits of code that work on state, so that they nicely fit and the state zips around as an argument or as a return value. This pattern appears naturally when your work with states: it is the idea that the state is passed as last argument and that the stateful functions always return a state. As you want the function to do something useful, you systematically return a tuplet with a state and a function specific return value. Before understanding monads,  I wrote whole applications like this. What monads allow you to do is to standardize so much this method of call pattern that it becomes possible to strip the exposed code of these “peripheral” state going in and state going out. The result is code that looks stateless but that isn’t.  The value of monadic state management is that you make much less mistakes and you can specialize your monad further to give it special properties. Still, from a stateful perspective the main gain of monadic states is productivity: hiding the state mean you can focus on more important things.