Why Digitalization Projects Always Fail

The harsh interrogation lights are on, but the client's requirements remain in the shadows. You're basically waterboarding them with questions while they respond with "I just want something simple" and "You're the expert, figure it out." Meanwhile, the project deadline is tomorrow, the budget is whatever coins they found in their couch, and somehow you're supposed to build the next Facebook but "keep it minimal." The worst part? When it's all over, they'll look at your work and say "That's not what I had in mind at all."

The desperate last-second swerve to test your old code instead of writing new code is the programmer equivalent of ordering the same meal at a restaurant for the 47th time because "what if I hate the new thing?" Sure, your old code is held together by duct tape and prayers, but at least you know exactly how and when it'll explode. New code? That's just inviting chaos with a formal invitation and an open bar.

Forget fancy titles like "engineer" or "developer" - what we really do is tend to legacy code jungles, prune buggy branches, and desperately try to stop feature weeds from choking our beautiful architecture. Just call me what I am: a software gardener who spends 90% of my time pulling out the spaghetti code someone else planted five years ago.

Client says "This is specification, it explains everything" and then hands you what appears to be a contestant on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" looking absolutely bewildered at the question "Two Zero Two Four" with four different numerical answers (2024, 0044, 0024, 2044). It's the software development equivalent of being handed a fortune cookie and told it contains the complete architectural diagram. Sure, technically those are numbers on the screen, but good luck figuring out which one matches whatever cryptic requirement is floating around in the client's head.

The corporate-to-English dictionary nobody asked for but everyone needs. After 15 years in this industry, I've developed a finely-tuned BS detector for job listings. "Cutting edge technology" just means you'll be using React like literally everyone else. And that "fast-paced environment"? Translation: your hair will be on fire while management keeps asking why you're not coding faster. My personal favorite is "urgent need" – code for "our last developer rage-quit and left zero documentation." The whole "rockstar developer" thing is particularly rich... sure, I'd love to work 80-hour weeks for the same pay as 40! And don't get me started on "self-starter" which really means "we have absolutely no idea what we're doing, but we'll blame you when it fails." Print this out and keep it next to your desk for the next time you're job hunting. You'll need it to decode what you're actually signing up for.

The modern software development stack in one chaotic image! A developer is desperately trying to implement a feature they have no clue how to build, while balancing precariously on a human tower of support. Their senior dev forms the foundation (probably wondering why they didn't take that fintech job), while a blinking cursor and Claude AI model the middle layers. Meanwhile, the entire operation depends on a random StackOverflow thread from the ancient scrolls of 2011. This isn't just coding—it's architectural performance art with zero documentation.