May 9, 2011
community, freesoftware, gimp, gnome, guadec, libre graphics meeting, maemo, openwengo
One of the most important things you can do in a free software project, besides writing code, is to get your key contributors together as often as possible.
I’ve been fortunate to be able to organise a number of events in the past 10 years, and also to observe others and learn from them over that time. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned over the years from that experience:
The starting point for most meetings or conferences is the venue. If you’re getting a small group (under 10 people) together, then it is usually OK just to pick a city, and ask a friend who runs a business or is a college professor to book a room for you. Or use a co-working space. Or hang out in someone’s house, and camp in the garden. Once you get bigger, you may need to go through a more formal process.
If you’re not careful, the venue will be a huge expense, and you’ll have to find that money somewhere. But if you are smart, you can manage a free venue quite easily.
Here are a few strategies you might want to try:
- Piggy-back on another event – the Linux Foundation Collaboration Summit, OSCON, LinuxTag, GUADEC and many other conferences are happy to host workshops or meet-ups for smaller groups. The GIMP Developers Conference in 2004 was the first meet-up that I organised, and to avoid the hassle of dealing with a venue, finding a time that suited everyone, and so on, I asked the GNOME Foundation if they wouldn’t mind setting aside some space for us at GUADEC – and they said yes.Take advantage of the bigger conference’s organisation, and you get the added benefit of attending the bigger conference at the same time!
- Ask local universities for free rooms – This won’t work once you go over a certain size, but especially for universities which have academics who are members of the local LUG, they can talk their department head into booking a lecture theatre & a few classrooms for a weekend. Many universities will ask to do a press release and get credit on the conference web-site, and this is a completely fair deal.The first Libre Graphics Meeting was hosted free in CPE Lyon, and the GNOME Boston Summit has been hosted free for a number of years in MIT.
If the venue can’t be free, see if you can get someone else to pay for it – Once your conference is bigger than about 200 people, most venues will require payment. Hosting a conference will cost them a lot, and it’s a big part of the business model of universities to host conferences when the students are gone. But just because the university or conference center won’t host you for free doesn’t mean that you have to be the one paying.
Local regional governments like to be involved with big events in their region. GUADEC in Stuttgart, the Gran Canaria Desktop Summit, and this year’s Desktop Summit in Berlin have all had the cost of the venue covered by the host region. An additional benefit of partnering with the region is that they will often have links to local industry and press – resources you can use to get publicity and perhaps even sponsorship for your conference.
- Run a bidding process – by encouraging groups wishing to host the conference to put in bids, you are also encouraging them to source a venue and talk to local partners before you decide where to go. You are also putting cities in competition with each other, and like olympic bids, cities don’t like to lose competitions they’re in!
Conferences cost money. Major costs for a small meet-up might be
covering the travel costs of attendees. For a larger conference, the
major costs will be equipment, staff and venue.
Every time I have been raising the budget for a conference, my rule of
thumb has been simple:
- Decide how much money you need to put on the event
- Fundraise until you reach that amount
- Stop fundraising, and move on to other things.
Raising money is a tricky thing to do. You can literally spend all of
your time doing it. At the end of the day, you have a conference to put
on, and the amount of money in the budget is not the major concern of
Remember, your primary goal is to get project participants together to
advance the project. So getting the word out to prospective attendees,
organising accommodation, venue, talks, food and drinks, social
activities and everything else people expect at an event is more
important than raising money.
Of course, you need money to be able to do all the rest of that stuff,
so finding sponsors, fixing sponsorship levels, and selling your
conference is a necessary evil. But once you have reached the amount of
money you need for the conference, you really do have better things to
do with your time.
There are a few potential sources of funds to put on a conference – I
recommend a mix of all of these as the best way to raise your budget.
Attendees – While this is a controversial topic among many communities, I think it is completely valid to ask attendees to contribute something to the costs of the conference. Attendees benefit from the facilities, the social events, and gain value from the conference.Some communities consider attendance at their annual event as a kind of reward for services rendered, or an incitement to do good work in the coming year, but I don’t think that’s a healthy way to look at it.
There are a few ways for conference attendees to fund the running of the conference:
Registration fees – This is the most common way to get money from conference attendees. Most community conferences ask for a token amount of fees. I’ve seen conferences ask for an entrance fee of €20 to €50, and most people have not had a problem paying this.
A pre-paid fee also has an additional benefit of massively reducing no-shows among locals. People place more value on attending an event that costs them €10 than one where they can get in for free, even if the content is the same.
- Donations – very successfully employed by FOSDEM. Attendees are offered an array of goodies, provided by sponsors (books, magazine subscriptions, t-shirts) in return for a donation. But those who want can attend for free.
- Selling merchandising – Perhaps your community would be happier hosting a free conference, and selling plush toys, t-shirts, hoodies, mugs and other merchandising to make some money. Beware: in my experience you can expect less from profits from merchandising sales than you would get giving a free t-shirt to each attendee with a registration fee.
Sponsors – Media publications will typically agree to “press sponsorship” – providing free ads for your conference in their print magazine or website. If your conference is a registered non-profit which can accept tax-deductible donations, offer press sponsors the chance to invoice you for the services and then make a separate sponsorship grant to cover the bill. The end result for you is identical, but it will allow the publication to write off the space they donate to you for tax.
What you really want, though, are cash sponsorships. As the number of free software projects and conferences has multiplied, the competition for sponsorship dollars has really heated up in recent years. To maximise your chances of making your budget target, there are a few things you can do.
Conference brochure – Think of your conference as a product you’re selling. What does it stand for, how much attention does it get, how important is it to you, to your members, to the industry and beyond? What is the value proposition for the sponsor?
You can sell a sponsorship package on three or four different grounds: perhaps conference attendees are a high-value target audience for the sponsor, perhaps (especially for smaller conferences) the attendees aren’t what’s important, it’s the attention that the conference will get in the international press, or perhaps you are pitching to the company that the conference is improving a piece of software that they depend on.
Depending on the positioning of the conference, you can then make a list of potential sponsors. You should have a sponsorship brochure that you can send them, which will contain a description of the conference, a sales pitch explaining why it’s interesting for the company to sponsor it, potentially press clippings or quotes from past attendees saying how great the conference is, and finally the amount of money you’re looking for.
Sponsorship levels – These should be fixed based on the amount of money you want to raise. You should figure on your biggest sponsor providing somewhere between 30% and 40% of your total conference budget for a smaller conference. If you’re lucky, and your conference gets a lot of sponsors, that might be as low as 20%. Figure on a third as a ball-park figure. That means if you’ve decided that you need €60,000 then you should set your cornerstone sponsor level at €20,000, and all the other levels in consequence (say, €12,000 for the second level and €6,000 for third level).
For smaller conferences and meet-ups, the fundraising process might be slightly more informal, but you should still think of the entire process as a sales pitch.
Calendar – Most companies have either a yearly or half-yearly budget cycle. If you get your submission into the right person at the right time, then you could potentially have a much easier conversation. The best time to submit proposals for sponsorship of a conference in the Summer is around October or November of the year before, when companies are finalising their annual budget.
If you miss this window, all is not lost, but any sponsorship you get will be coming out of discretionary budgets, which tend to get spread quite thin, and are guarded preciously by their owners. Alternatively, you might get a commitment to sponsor your July conference in May, at the end of the first half budget process – which is quite late in the day.
Approaching the right people – I’m not going to teach anyone sales, but my personal secret to dealing with big organisations is to make friends with people inside the organisations, and try to get a feel for where the budget might come from for my event. Your friend will probably not be the person controlling the budget, but getting him or her on board is your opportunity to have an advocate inside the organisation, working to put your proposal in front of the eyes of the person who owns the budget.
Big organisations can be a hard nut to crack, but free software projects often have friends in high places. If you have seen the CTO or CEO of a Fortune 500 company talk about your project in a news article, don’t hesitate to drop him a line mentioning that, and when the time comes to fund that conference, a personal note asking who the best person to talk to will work wonders. Remember, your goal is not to sell to your personal contact, it is to turn her into an advocate to your cause inside the organisation, and create the opportunity to sell the conference to the budget owner later.
Also, remember when you’re selling sponsorship packages that everything which costs you money could potentially be part of a sponsorship package. Some companies will offer lanyards for attendees, or offer to pay for a coffee break, or ice-cream in the afternoon, or a social event. These are potentially valuable sponsorship opportunities and you should be clear in your brochure about everything that’s happening, and spec out a provisional budget for each of these events when you’re drafting your budget.
Conference content is the most important thing about a conference. Different events handle content differently – some events invite a large proportion of their speakers, while others like GUADEC and OSCON invite proposals and choose talks to fill the spots.
The strategy you choose will depend largely on the nature of the event. If it’s an event in its 10th year with an ever increasing number of attendees, then a call for papers is great. If you’re in your first year, and people really don’t know what to make of the event, then setting the tone by inviting a number of speakers will do a great job of helping people know what you’re aiming for.
For Ignite Lyon last year, I invited about 40% of the speakers for the first night (and often had to hassle them to put in a submission, and the remaining 60% came through a submission form. For the first Libre Graphics Meeting, apart from lightning talks, I think that I contacted every speaker except 2 first. Now that the event is in its 6th year, there is a call for proposals process which works quite well.
Avoiding putting talks in parallel which will appeal to the same people is hard. Every single conference, you hear from people who wanted to attend talks which were on at the same time on similar topics.
My solution to conference scheduling is very low-tech, but works for me. Coloured post-its, with a different colour for each theme, and an empty talks grid, do the job fine. Write the talk titles one per post-it, add any constraints you have for the speaker, and then fill in the grid.
Taking scheduling off the computer and into real life makes it really easy to see when you have clashes, to swap talks as often as you like, and then to commit it to a web page when you’re happy with it.
I used this technique successfully for GUADEC 2006, and Ross Burton re-used it in 2007.
Parties are a trade-off. You want everyone to have fun, and hanging out is a huge part of attending a conference. But morning attendance suffers after a party. Pity the poor community member who has to drag himself out of bed after 3 hours sleep to go and talk to 4 people at 9am after the party.
Some conferences have too many parties. It’s great to have the opportunity to get drunk with friends every night. But it’s not great to actually get drunk with friends every night. Remember the goal of the conference: you want to encourage the advancement of your project.
I encourage one biggish party, and one other smallish party, over the course of the week. Outside of that, people will still get together, and have a good time, but it’ll be on their dime, and that will keep everyone reasonable.
With a little imagination, you can come up with events that don’t involved loud music and alcohol. Other types of social event can work just as well, and be even more fun.
At GUADEC we have had a football tournament for the last number of years. During the OpenWengo Summit in 2007, we brought people on a boat ride on the Seine and we went on a classic 19th century merry-go-round afterwards. Getting people eating together is another great way to create closer ties – I have very fond memories of group dinners at a number of conferences. At the annual KDE conference Akademy, there is typically a Big Day Out, where people get together for a picnic, some light outdoors activity, a boat ride, some sightseeing or something similar.
Watch out for those unforeseen costs! One conference I was involved in, where the venue was “100% sponsored” left us with a €20,000 bill for labour and equipment costs. Yes, the venue had been sponsored, but setting up tables and chairs, and equipment rental of whiteboards, overhead projectors and so on, had not. At the end of the day, I estimate that we used about 60% of the equipment we paid for.
Conference venues are hugely expensive for everything they provide. Coffee breaks can cost up to $10 per person for a coffee & a few biscuits, bottled water for speakers costs $5 per bottle, and so on. Rental of an overhead projector and mics for one room for one day can cost €300 or more, depending on whether the venue insists that equipment be operated by their a/v guy or not.
When you’re dealing with a commercial venue, be clear up-front about what you’re paying for.
I like conferences that take care of the little details. As a speaker, I like it when someone contacts me before the conference and says they’ll be presenting me, what would I like them to say? It’s reassuring to know that when I arrive there will be a hands-free mic and someone who can help fit it.
Taking care of all of these details needs a gaggle of volunteers, and it needs someone organising them beforehand and during the event. Spend a lot of time talking to the local staff, especially the audio/visual engineers.
In one conference, the a/v guy would switch manually to a screen-saver at the end of a presentation. We had a comical situation during a lightning talk session where after the first speaker, I switched presentations, and while the next presentation showed up on my laptop, we still had the screensaver on the big screen. No-one had talked to the A/V engineer to explain to him the format of the presentation!
So we ended up with 4 Linux engineers looking at the laptop, checking connections and running various Xrandr incantations, trying to get the overhead projector working again! We eventually changed laptops, and the a/v engineer realised what the session was, and all went well after that – most of the people involved ended up blaming my laptop.
Running a conference, or even a smaller meet-up, is time consuming, and consists of a lot of detail work, much of which will never be noticed by attendees. I haven’t even dealt with things like banners and posters, graphic design, dealing with the press, or any of the other joys that come from organising a conference.
The end result is massively rewarding, though. A study I did last year of the GNOME project showed that there is a massive project-wide boost in productivity just after our annual conference, and many of our community members cite the conference as the high point of their year.
March 11, 2011
community, freesoftware, gnome
After my rather controversial question a few days ago and multiple reactions from around the KDE & Canonical world, a lot of reading and digging into archives, and a lot of conversations with people across the spectrum, I have some preliminary findings and lessons which I hope can serve us going forward to help improve things. Nothing in here is controversial, I think, but each of these is a contributing factor to the current mess we find ourselves in.
For those without the patience to read this article (which is much longer than I intended it to be when I started!), here are the headline points:
- FreeDesktop.org is broken as a standards body
- Mark Shuttleworth doesn’t understand how GNOME works
- GNOME is not easy to understand
- Deep mistrust has developed between Canonical, GNOME & KDE
- Difficult people are prominent in each of these projects
- Behind closed doors conversations are poison
- For people to work together, they need to be in the same place
In summary, there are a number of things we can do to move forward from where we are now: improve processes & structure for freedesktop.org (this will require buy-in from key GNOME & KDE people), make the operation of GNOME (and the operation of individual modules) more transparent from outside the project, cut out a lot of the back-channel conversations that have been happening over the phone, in person & on IRC, in favour of documented & archived discussions and agreements on mailing lists & wikis, and work to ensure that people working on similar problem areas are talking to each other.
The major challenge we have is how to move beyond the deep mistrust which has evolved between members of our communities, who are all to eager to assume the worst of others, and how we can improve the tone of discourse when some of the most prominent members of our communities are also hard to work with.
Now, to elaborate:
This is not surprising when you consider that it’s written right there on the front page: “freedesktop.org is not a formal standards organization”.
In the case of the StatusNotifier spec, the brokenness shines through. Work started in April 2009 by Aaron Seigo, using the Galago spec as a starting point. Once KDE had begun working on an implementation, Marco Martin started on an initial draft of a spec. The first round draft there was mostly done on September 17 and proposed as the KNotificationItem spec. Then Aurélien Gâteau and Ted Gould made some (offline) suggestions, resulting in a rename, and some revisions, in late October. The spec was proposed as the StatusNotifier spec in December 2009.
At the point that GNOME developers Dan Winship & Mathias Clasen, and Citrix developer Giles Atkinson, reviewed the spec and made comments on it, too much had been invested in it to make major revisions. At that point, it is disingenuous to call StatusNotifier a cross-desktop standard. Hosting a document on the freedesktop.org wiki does not a cross-desktop standard make.
It’s interesting and ironic to see Aaron mention the nascent DConf specification from 2005 in these terms:
instead, the idea was, “If we propose it on fd.o, then people have to accept it because otherwise they won’t be cooperating with fd.o.” this is completely different from trying to work with others and having those efforts ignored.
In fact, that is exactly how StatusNotifiers were perceived (and exactly how Mark & Aaron are messaging GNOME’s non-adoption of the spec).
There is no freedesktop.org process for proposing standards, identifying those which are proposals and those which are de facto implemented, and perhaps more importantly, there is no process for building consensus around a specification, and signalling that consensus.
If I were in charge, I would require every spec to start with a problem definition. Only by agreeing on the problem can we hope to arrive at a solution which will be acceptable to all. The problem statement is the guiding light of a spec. Then I would make sure that the people with an interest in solving the problem were committed to the project. Only then do you start working on a spec and implementations. Without agreement on a problem, and without the right people at the table from the start, the effort is doomed. Some guidance on the process for the creation of a spec would be a start.
In this case, there was no founding problem statement. The spec proposed by Marco Martin listed this as the problems which it was solving:
The new protocol is based upon D-Bus, and separates the presentation of the items from the logic, in our case the painting is completely controlled by Plasma and the applications registers via D-bus (with a small client library shared across KDE) to a central server, while there can be zero or more instances of the systemtray. if either the serve or no instances of systemtrays that supports this protocol are registered the system will fall back using the old freedesktop.org systray specification.
This is not a compelling problem statement. No user ever had a problem because notifications didn’t use D-Bus.
It’s clear when reading Dan Winship’s follow-up comments that there was disagreement on the problem to solve, as well as disagreement on how to solve it. Dan felt that a spec should include policy, and document expected behaviour, while Aaron and Marco were at that point committed to the separation of “the visualisation” and the API. With a better problem statement, this would have been a minor implementation point, without one, two people ended up arguing over positions, and not interests.
If, instead, people had agreed on the problem of the panel or the issues they wanted to address before starting to work on a solution, things might have gone more smoothly. Note that the wiki page linked above was created at the end of December 2009, and the mailing list post was from February 2010 – to communicate what had already been written, not to concentrate people on a common problem.
Mark Shuttleworth really doesn’t know how GNOME works
This one really surprised me, but I think it’s indisputable. Mark wants GNOME to have “strong, mature technical leadership”. He talks about a GNOME cabal, and GNOME’s strategy being “whatever Jon McCann wants to do with the panel”. Mark and others don’t understand why libappindicator was rejected as an external dependency, misunderstanding that external dependencies are, by definition, dependencies of GNOME modules. He admits himself that he has failed to have Canonical developments considered as “internal to Gnome”, and clearly does not understand the position that the GNOME community as a whole has taken with respect to copyright assignment, or the history behind that position.
My understanding of GNOME is this: GNOME does not have technical leadership – it hasn’t had clear technical leadership since, as I understand it, the creation of the GNOME Foundation (at which point, by design, the board was given a mandate to build and define GNOME, and then soon afterwards removed that mandate from itself). The foundation does not now dictate any vision or direction for GNOME.
It can be argued that this is something which should be changed. That change will be effected by people involved in the foundation and the project. It is not enough for Mark to tell the project that “you need leadership”, or Jono Bacon telling foundation members (as he told me in 2007) that they should step up to the plate. Decisions are made by those who turn up – and I consider Mark, Jono, Ted Gould and others as members of the GNOME project, with as much mandate to change GNOME as I do. If Mark wants GNOME to have strong leadership, then he needs to help make that happen.
Given that this is not (yet) how GNOME works, to get things done in GNOME, you need to talk to the right people. That means, defining your problem, and identifying the stakeholders who are also interested in that problem, and working out a solution with them (am I repeating myself?). Mark seems to want GNOME to behave like a company, so that he can get “his people” to talk to “our people” and make it happen. I think that this misunderstanding of how to wield influence within the GNOME project is a key problem.
But then again, over the years I have heard similar feedback from GNOME Mobile participants, and people in Nokia – so it’s not all Mark’s fault. As Jono says here: GNOME does have a reputation of being hard to work with for companies – no point in denying it (then again, so does the kernel, and they seem to get along fine).
GNOME is not easy to understand
When I evaluated GNOME’s governance for Simon Phipps recently, I scored the project 0 (on a scale of -1 to 1) for the criteria of oligarchic governance. The notes from the evaluation were:
Newcomers to GNOME often have trouble figuring out who’s in charge. The Release Team is responsible primarily for the release process and has not traditionally set any strategic direction for GNOME, and individual module governance rules are varied. The foundation board is responsible primarily for maintaining the infrastructure of the foundation, and dealing with sponsors and benefactors, and does not set any technical direction.
Score: Governance is open, membership of the release team oligarchy is meritocratic – scoring zero for oligarchy because much of the governance is devolved to maintainers, making it hard to figure out how to accomplish project-wide change.
Finding the right person inside the GNOME project to help work on a given problem is not straightforward. If you want to make a change to one module, then it’s as simple as working with the maintainers. If, on the other hand, you want to propose a system-wide change, it is a much harder job – you need to work with module maintainers to get them to adopt your proposal, then work with the release team & the wider GNOME community through the module proposal period to get your library included in one of the module sets. Libraries I can think of in recent times that have not gained sufficient traction include Beagle, Geoclue, Soylent, or LeafTag. Other projects like Pyro, GNOME Online Desktop, or Zeitgeist have had baptisms of fire. Even libraries like GStreamer and Telepathy have taken a long time to get traction in core GNOME applications.
Even once you’re in the right place, having work reviewed can take time & effort. I have been told stories of dropped or unreviewed patch-sets by developers I’ve known across a number of projects for many years – one that is mentioned frequently is GNOME Control Center. Maybe persistence was all that would be required, maybe the patches were submitted in a way other than the usual method, or maybe the maintainer was just stuck for time & forgot – in any case, patches were lost, or their integration delayed, and contributors ended up disenfranchised.
But then you can say the same thing about the Linux kernel – contributing to the project is so confusing that Jon Corbet wrote a book about how to contribute, or even KDE – Stuart Jarvis wrote a timely article yesterday explaining that “KDE is not like [a company]. We don’t have leaders. We have prominent community members, but they tend to operate within their own areas of expertise.” Sounds familiar.
The bottom line is that GNOME can improve, but it is not going to change its nature, and working with GNOME needs to be done on the terms of the community you’re working with, not on your terms.
Deep mistrust has developed between Canonical, GNOME and KDE
Regardless of the causes & the history, it’s been made very clear over the past two days that people in our communities are prepared to believe the worst about their fellow free software developers.
Aaron Seigo, for example, clearly has no confidence in GNOME developers as a whole. He writes in a comment that:
@Tom: “do you think the Gnome my way or the high way attitude is connected to company agenda?”
i don’t think so. [...] it really seems to be something common to the culture of the project rather than the culture of the companies they work for.
it’s not a belief that GNOME has decided to not collaborate on this (and other) initiatives for no good reason: it’s a fact. there is a demonstrated “if isn’t invented here, it isn’t used here” pattern of behavior.
Mark clearly believes that GNOME Shell is a Red Hat project. He feels short-changed, feels he and his team have made a good faith effort to engage which has been rejected, offer suggestions which have been ignored. On the other hand, Jon McCann does not see things the same way. And a lot of GNOME people see the move to Unity as a deliberate effort to undermine GNOME Shell, one more in a series of initiatives designed to give Ubuntu differentiation over their competitors without feeding the results into the upstream ecosystem.
Looking at some of the tweets & comments on the various posts, I see an employee of Intel, a developer from the Junta de Andalucia, a number of ex Canonical employees, a Novell employee, an unaffiliated volunteer, and others.Mark’s article blaming GNOME for the problems in the relationship was literally met with “WTF”s and laughter.
Ill will toward Canonical as a company is not limited to GNOME – Greg Kroah Hartman’s infamous presentation at the Linux Plumber’s Conference in 2008 comes to mind. Clearly frustration has been building across the community for a number of years, and it’s far too easy to dismiss it as jealousy because Ubuntu has so many users.
Difficult people are prominent in each of these projects
At this point, the participants in what has become a menage à trois each have a world view which is so different and a prioris so ingrained about the motivations & attitude of everyone associated with another project that undoing the damage will be very difficult.
It’s made even more difficult because a number of key contributors in the projects in question have a reputation of being hard to work with. In GNOME we have our share of people who, to use a phrase Jon Corbet uses to describe kernel hackers, are “not always concerned with showing a high degree of politeness”. I could come up with 10 names of hackers who might themselves be surprised to be on the list, who would be considered by people who have worked with them to be “prickly” to say the least. These people can be found at all levels of the project – prominent on the GNOME Foundation mailing list, maintainers of modules, employees of all of the major companies working with GNOME, even on the release team.
On the KDE side, Aaron also has this reputation – one KDE contributor I spoke to recently said that if Aaron had been a little more open to the feedback he received rather than adopting his “habitual air of superiority” that things might have gone better. And he’s not alone.
Reading the thread on freedesktop.org where the StatusNotifier spec was being discussed, it’s clear that Dan and Matthias considered that Aaron was being dismissive of their concerns – and I can certainly see why. Aaron, on the other hand, in his blog post, considers that “there was a lot of communication about Status Notifiers on the freedesktop.org xdg list where good feedback was offered and the specification improved significantly as a result. So communication really can’t be to blame here, at least not communication by those outside of GNOME” – there is a clear disconnect between how the thread was perceived by Aaron and by other participants.
Mark himself is no angel – I’m sure he will recognise that he is not one to avoid polarising positionn, or to change his mind easily once it’s made up. On the subject of copyright assignment, his mind is made up, for example. There is no revenue motive behind the decision (I am convinced of this), but on principle, Mark has come to believe that controlling the copyrights to code is a best practice, and nothing will change his mind about that. Similarly, he has made up his mind on GNOME Shell it is “McCann’s” plaything, design suggestions made early in the process were ignored, and even though he now admits that the result is better than the early mock-ups, it is clear to me that there is no chance that Ubuntu will ever voluntarily adopt GNOME Shell.
We have two problems: first, that key figures in our communities can rub people up the wrong way. Second, it’s easy to ascribe to entire groups the characteristics of the people we come in contact with.
To solve the second problem, we need to start using names instead of project names. It’s too easy to ascribe ill-will to an anonymous faceless project, it’s another thing to do so to an individual with a name & a face. GNOME didn’t reject the StatusNotifier spec – two GNOME contributors on the email@example.com mailing list who read the spec (and who were in a position to do something about it) felt that their concerns were getting short-changed, and disengaged. I’d wager that 90% of GNOME project members didn’t even know about xdg before this week. Let’s call each other by our names (and be nice while we’re at it).
Behind closed doors conversations are poison
Another major issue we’ve had is a distinct lack of tracability. It isn’t helped by many Canonical developers using infrastructure which the appropriate GNOME developers don’t – but in fact I don’t care what public forum you use to develop & talk about your software. What is harmful is what I’ve dubbed the Water Cooler – when too many conversations happen in private email, at conferences over drinks, or on IRC, there is no tracability. One example: A key event in the timeline of shell/notifiers/Unity was the UX hackfest in 2008. Different people say different things were said. And there is no written trace of agreements or proposals concerning notifications. I was told that there were some conversations after the conference on IRC, but nothing was sent to a mailing list or recorded in a wiki page.
A member of the GNOME Shell team recently, in response to some questions about design decisions, said that a lot of the discussions & reasons behind the design would have happened on IRC. So there is no trace.
I have personally been involved in dozens of OTR discussions with Canonical people. I recall one where Jono urged me to “step up to the plate” and provide technical leadership for GNOME – my response was that that wasn’t the role of the board, that the distributors who depended on GNOME for their products had to set the lead. It would have been nice to have the discussion in public.
I know that writing stuff down after the fact is a pain. But it is required to allow for a traceability of community decisions and agreements – and also to highlight misunderstandings. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve had a conversation with a client about a technical spec, and he understood something different than me, I’d have enough money for a nice meal. By writing down understandings in clear and unambiguous terms, you are also giving the other party to the discussion the opportunity to correct misunderstandings early.
I also understand that there is an interest in putting on a good face, and not airing your dirty laundry in public (ironic, eh?) – for the past few years, the party line in Canonical has been “We love GNOME, we’re a GNOME shop” while behind the scenes there have been heartfelt conversations about the various problems which exist in GNOME & how to address them. The problem is, because these discussioons happen behind the scenes, they stay there. We never get beyond discussions, agreeing there is a problem, but never working together on a solution.
The party line in GNOME & KDE has been “we’re all pulling in the same direction, we like each other” – and for the most part it’s true. But if this week has shown nothing else, it’s shown that senior members of the KDE & GNOME projects actively mistrust each others motives & don’t believe we have the same interests at heart. At least, this is clear from Aaron Seigo’s comments on his blog post.
For people to work together, they need to be in the same place
I have seen a number of people say that Canonical worked on libappindicator and Unity “internally, not in the open” or that “a lot of design in free software are (sic) developed in secret”. Yet the code is open, the entire history is in Bazaar… how is this consistent?
First, design is not code. Design documents can behave like code, however, with peer review and an iterative process, and can be wedded to the process of developing code, evolving as technical constraints and schedule pressure get in the way of the original design. Good designers work with coders – and this is how it happens in Canonical too.
However, Canonical has occasionally opted to create new projects, housed in Launchpad, rather than engage existing projects to evolve them. libappindicator is an example – several people suggested that it should/could be part of GTK+ – what changed between January 2010 when Ted Gould said ” I’d like to think that the code in libappindicator would useful, and maybe even migrate into a replacement for GtkStatusIcon in GTK+” and February 2010 when he wrote ” Q: Shouldn’t this be in GTK+?
A: Apparently not”?
Canonical has a policy that Canonical development is done in Launchpad, using Bazaar. Sometimes that’s fine – if you’re originating a project, then you get to choose the infrastructure. Bazaar & Launchpad are working just fine for a plethora of projects. But when you are working with other projects, you need to be where they are.
Cody Russell, long-time GNOME contributor, former Canonical developer, and the developer of client side decorations for GTK+ among other things, wrote in a comment to Aaron’s blog:
CSD is really not a good example of how stuff development between Canonical and GNOME should work. I’m the person at Canonical who started CSD, but never finished it.
It started as just an experimental hack, and somehow got picked up as a “Canonical project”. Once that happened my immediate manager told me to stop committing code to GNOME git and do any further work on it privately in bzr.
For me this made developing it further much more difficult, because it was an extremely large and intrusive change into GTK+ source code and my manager didn’t want upstream developers to help me with at least peer code review.
Apparently there was originally some desire to have libappindicator developed as part of GTK+. I don’t know why this did not happen, but perhaps the quote above can give some insight into why the project was developed as an independent module.
Similarly, having a discussion on a freedesktop.org list does not ensure that you are getting appropriate cross-platform buy-in for your ideas. There is no guarantee that you are talking to the right people.
Most free software developers I know are on lots of mailing lists, and for all but a small number directly related to their day-to-day work, they glance over them. I certainly fall into this camp – there are about half a dozen lists I’m on where I will open maybe only 1 in 10 emails, with a subject that looks like it might concern me directly. If you want to directly get my attention outside of that, a personal email, IRC ping or IM asking me to comment on something is a good way to get my attention.
In the early days of freedesktop.org, this is how things worked. There were well defined problems that needed solving, and the people concerned made a conscious effort to get the right people into a central desktop-agnostic mailing list. As time goes on, maintainerships evolve, people change jobs, new people arrive – there is no longer any guarantee that the people on the freedesktop.org mailing lists are the best people to be talking to.
So where do we go from here? Well, first GNOME 3. We have a release coming up, and so does Ubuntu, and we’re both going to have a bumpy ride for the next few months, so that is presumably going to be the priority for everyone.
After that, the Desktop Summit will be an opportunity to start building bridges. We’ve made an effort this year to avoid tribalism in the conference, by framing the call for papers according to problem area (multimedia, mobile, platform, etc.) rather than by desktop. We will be continuing this, I’m sure, through paper selection and drafting the agenda. That said, you can bring a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.
Looking through the list of headings here, a number of them are easily fixable, a number of them are much more troubling, and a result of letting discontent fester for months or years.
We can certainly improve the operation of freedesktop.org – currently there is no freedesktop.org as such, it’s a wiki & a mailing list server. To improve it, there needs to be a process whereby things are agreed, and a way to ensure that all concerned parties are engaged in that process. There were discussions about this in Gran Canaria, including members of both the GNOME and KDE projects. But to evolve freedesktop.org, buy-in of a number of key GNOME developers is essential – I can’t imagine any long-term changes happening without Owen Taylor’s agreement, for example.
We can increase the transparency of the operation of individual GNOME modules. This is one of the things I hoped to achieve last year with the GNOME census. By identifying the key contributors for each module, and the processes under which each module operates, we can help reduce the friction when people try to figure out how to work with GNOME. Ideally, something like Jon’s guide to the kernel will help reduce the number of dropped or unreviewed patches, make it easier for people to see what kinds of contributions would actually be welcomed by module maintainer teams, and help people figure out how to gain influence in a specific module and eventually become a maintainer themselves.
We must reduce the amount of back-channel discussions between the various project participants. Any important decisions or agreements that happen off-line must get written down & agreed to after the fact. IRC usage has become predominant in some teams, resulting in a lack of transparency of operation – GNOME should adopt the Apache policy of “if it didn’t happen on the mailing list, it didn’t happen” and encourage companies who want to encourage change in the project to do the same. I would appreciate all participants committing to a general policy of releasing design specs and code early to peer review – and in the case of Canonical, working upstream before working in their own distribution.
I think there is a potential for a GNOME Design group, for example, with qualified designers in a publicly archived, but invitation-only, mailing list, to allow design collaboration without a high level of poor quality amateur participation which has typified public usability or design lists.
Finally, smaller, focused teams, started on a case by case basis, will serve us better than long-living “collaboration” mailing lists like desktop-architects or xdg. To ensure that the right people are at the table, they need to be invited, and their presence needs to be documented, on a project-by-project basis. Of course discussions on these lists should be publicly archived, but they should only be useful as long as the specific problem area is being addressed, and should die a natural death afterwards.
That’s the easy stuff.
The more difficult issue is that we have allowed relationships to degrade so far. It feels like GNOME & Canonical are in a bad relationship – we used to love each other, and now every time we talk it seems like we’re speaking a different language. For a while, it seemed like GNOME & KDE contributors were working productively together & overcoming some of the historical issues between the projects, but over the past 3 years, it’s been clear that the progress we had achieved was illusory, and that deep-seated ill-feeling among a small number of project leaders have ensured that any early progress has been squandered.
In addition, all of GNOME, KDE & Canonical have allowed personality issues to build up. One need only follow the discussions within the GNOME foundation concerning the Code of Conduct to see that the GNOME community has allowed some loud & confrontational characters to gain positions of authority in the project, and KDE is also no stranger to such personality issues among prominent developers.
Solving this problem is much more difficult, if it’s solvable at all. Change inside the GNOME project can only come from the grass roots, and the same goes for KDE. Adopting a code of conduct is less important than actually being nice. Too many people confusing being rude and abrasive as being terse and efficient. And getting a critical mass of community leaders in the same place at the same time to concentrate on common issues and approaches to solving them is difficult when there is so much pent up frustration and ill-will involved.
The Desktop Summit will be an important meeting point this year, where hopefully some of these issues can be resolved. In the meantime, I hope that we can start some small conversations soon to get people talking and trusting each other’s motives again. It will be a long and arduous process, and will require everyone to accept part of the blame for the situation we find ourselves in, and to accept the better days are possible.
As I said to Jono Bacon yesterday when he suggested we should all just get along & stop digging up the past: “Those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it. And we have been failing for some time to understand the issues which people have working in freedesktop.org, or with GNOME, KDE or Canonical”. Unlike some people commenting on the various blog posts this week, I think that getting some of the dirty laundry out into the open will be beneficial to the general working environment. Sunlight is a great disinfectant, they say, and a number of issues have been kept under wraps too long by people who want to put a brave face on & pretend for public benefit that everything is rosy.
Well, everything isn’t rosy, and now even a fool could see that. But I don’t think there’s anything broken that we can’t fix. Let’s concentrate on getting GNOME 3.0 and Ubuntu 11.04 out the door, and then get to work mending relationships.
March 7, 2011
community, freesoftware, gnome
Through the fall-out from the Unity decision, and now the fall-out from the packaging of Banshee on Natty, I have repeatedly read Canonical & Ubuntu people say “We offered our help to GNOME, and they didn’t want it”.
For starters, some people in the GNOME community moan about how Ubuntu doesn’t pull its weight upstream.They then make it difficult for Ubuntu-y folks to contribute things upstream.
For the app indicators we also had a lot of community involvement, it was based on a Freedesktop.org spec, worked on with consultancy from KDE, we invited GNOME developers to participate in the Freedesktop discussion and proposed them to the GNOME community for inclusion, but it’s not up to us, if they take it or not
Where tensions between Canonical and GNOME have occurred, according to Bacon, is in Canonical’s desktop innovations for improved usability, such as the Ayatana indicators for sound and social media, and the new Unity desktop, all of which were submitted to GNOME and rejected, leaving Canonical to develop them outside the GNOME project. [...] Asked whether Canonical could have developed its usability modifications within GNOME, he replies, “To be honest with you, I don’t think it could have been done. The fact that nothing’s been accepted is a pretty reasonable indicator that the two projects have widely different directions.”
We committed to build Unity [...] because we had ample reason to believe that the trajectory of the alternatives was going to fail. And it did fail – Gnome 3 looks much more like the vision we painted with Unity than the original vision [...] I am sorry that a few Gnome leaders have blocked Gnome’s adoption of Unity API’s, and the stress that will cause, but I feel proud that we had the guts, and the capacity, to design and deliver something wonderful.
I have seen and heard this mentioned by others too, but cannot find any others right now – additional pointers in comments would be welcome!
So – given that GNOME is a project which scores very highly as being Open By Rule (disclosure: I put together the evaluation of GNOME for Simon), I thought I would go back through the archives and see how true this was.
Looking at what was actually proposed for inclusion in GNOME from Ayatana work, libappindicator was rejected because (quoting directly from the release team’s decision):
- it doesn’t integrate with gnome-shell
- probably depends on GtkApplication, and would need integration in GTK+ itself
- we wished there was some constructive discussion around it, pushed by the libappindicator developers; but it didn’t happen
- there’s nothing in GNOME needing it
I went back to see where the discussion happened for the libappindicator proposal. There was a discussion, some over & back, Ted was (as usual) forthcoming & helpful, and things appeared to be moving approximately in the right direction. There were some issues over copyright assignment, and the discussion petered out. No feedback I could see from the GNOME Shell team – positive or negative – to depending on the library.
Now, this is hardly ideal. I would love to see debate on why there wasn’t a more in-depth debate on using libappindicator in GNOME Shell. Was this ever proposed? If so, where? I can’t find any reference. Was there any reaction other than “we don’t think it’s an issue” to the copyright assignment issue? Perhaps there was a lot more discussion in another forum that I haven’t linked to – on the release-team list, on IRC, or elsewhere? Comments, please!
I would love to point to other instances of work which has been proposed upstream from Canonical and which has been rejected, but my (admittedly, brief) search has not turned up much useful stuff. I can’t find any online reference to displeasure with the GNOME Shell vision, or proposals of alternatives, nor can I find situations of “Paper Cut” patches being rejected because they were from Canonical or Ubuntu. In fact, the one reference I found to the UX hackfest in 2008 from Mark seemed quite positive about the whole thing.
There are apocryphal stories about patches submitted twice by different people before they were accepted, other stories about people being “impossible to work with”, design feedback being ignored, and more – I would love to see some evidence of this, or some documented criticism from 2008 of some of the GNOME Shell design documents. I hear often that some of the design decisions were unacceptable, but ask which ones, where the discussion took place, or how much effort was spent trying to get things changed, and hand-wavy “lots of stuff” type answers is what you get back.
I would really like to shed some sunlight on this – if we do not have publicly archived references to places where these disagreements have happened, then there are a couple of possible conclusions we can draw: either insufficient effort was made to collaborate, or the effort was made, and GNOME Shell is not sufficiently transparent for the developers and designers to be accountable.
So please – pile in on the comments. I want to know of instances when GNOME has (allegedly) refused contributions or help from Canonical, with links to Bugzilla, mailing lists, even IRC logs or wiki pages. Let’s get to the bottom of this & see if we can’t solve the problem.
Updated to clarify that the reasons for rejecting libappindicator were not mine, but were copied from the release team decisions, after reading Aaron Seigo’s response
February 16, 2011
community, freesoftware, maemo, meego, work
The post-Elopocalypse angst has been getting me down over the past few days. It’s against my nature to spend a lot of time worrying about things that are decided, done, dusted. It was Democritus, I think, who said that only a fool worries about things over which he has no control, and I definitely identify with that. It seems that a significant number of people on mailing lists I’m subscribed to don’t share this character trait.
I prefer to roll with the punches, to ask, “where do we go from here?” – we have a new landscape, with Nokia potentially being a lot less involved in MeeGo over the coming months. Will they reduce their investment in 3rd party developers? Perhaps. I expect them to. Will they lay some people off? I bet that there will be a small layoff in MeeGo Devices, but I’d wager that there will be bigger cuts in external contracts. In any case, this is something over which I have no control.
First up – what next for MeeGo? While MeeGo is looking a lot less attractive for application developers now, I still think there’s a great value proposition for hardware vendors to get behind it in vertical markets. Intel seem committed, and MeeGo (even with Nokia reducing investment) is much broader than one company now. A lot of people are betting the bank on it being a viable platform. So I think it will be, and soon.
Will I continue contributing time & effort to MeeGo? My reasons for contributing to MeeGo were not dependent on Nokia’s involvement, so yes, but I will be carefully eyeing business opportunities as well. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t expect to get some business from a vibrant MeeGo ecosystem, and now I will need to explore other avenues. But the idea of collaborating on a core platform and building a set of free software form-factor specific UIs is still appealing. And I really do like the Maemo/MeeGo community a lot.
Luckily, the time to market difficulties that Nokia experienced are, in my opinion, issues of execution rather than inherent problems in working with free software. Companies have a clear choice between embracing proprietary-style development and treating upstream as “free code” (as Google have with Android), or embracing community-style development and working “The Open Source Way” (as Red Hat have learned to do). Nokia’s problems came from the hybrid approach of engage-but-keep-something-back, which prevented them from leveraging community developers as co-developers, while at the same time imposing all the costs of growing and supporting a large community.
I expect lots of companies to try to learn from this experience and start working smarter with communities – and since that’s where I can help them, I’m not too worried about the medium term.
I would bet on Nokia partners and subcontractors battening down the hatches right now until the dust settles, and potentially looking for revenue sources outside the MeeGo world. If I had a team of people working for me that’s what I’d do. If some Nokia work kept coming my way, I’d be glad of it, but right now I’d be planning a life without Nokia in the medium term.
For any companies who have followed Nokia from Symbian to MeeGo, my advice would be to stick to Linux, convert to an Android strategy, and start building some Windows Phone skills in case Nokia’s bet works out, but don’t bet the bank on it. And working effectively with community developed software projects is a key skill for the next decade that you should be developing (a small plug for my services there).
For anyone working on MeeGo within Nokia, the suspense over who might lose their jobs is worse than the fall, let me reassure you. Having been through a re-org or two in my time, I know that the wait can last weeks or months, and even when the cuts come, there’s always an itching suspicion of another one around the corner. Nothing is worse for morale in a team than wondering who will still be there next month. But you have learned valuable and sought-after skills working on MeeGo, and they are bankable on the market right now. If I were working on MeeGo inside Nokia right now, I think I’d ignore the possibility of a lay-off and get on with trying to make the MeeGo phone as great as possible. If I got laid off, I’d be happy to have a redundancy package worthy of Finland, and would be confident in my ability to find a job as a Linux developer very quickly.
For community members wondering whether to stick with MeeGo or jump ship, I’d ask, why were you hanging out around MeeGo in the first place? Has anything in the past week changed your motivations? If you wanted to have a shiny free-software-powered Nokia phone, you should have one by the end of the year. If you wanted to hack on any of the components that make up MeeGo, you can still do that. If you were hoping to make money off apps, that’s probably not going to happen with MeeGo on handsets any time soon. If you’re not convinced by the market potential of MeeGo apps on tablets, I’d jump ship to Android quick (in fact, why aren’t you there already?).
Qt users and developers are probably worried too. I don’t think that Qt is immediately threatened. The biggest danger for Qt at this point would be Intel & others deciding that Qt was a bad choice and moving to something else. That would be a massive strategic blunder – on a par with abandoning the GTK+ work which had been done before moblin 2 to move to Qt. Rewriting user interfaces is hard and I don’t think that Intel are ready to run the market risk of dropping Qt – which means that they’re pot-committed at this point. If Nokia ever did decide to drop Qt, Intel would probably be in the market to buy it. Then again, I can also see how Qt’s management might try to do an LMBO and bring the company private again. Either way, there will be a demand for Qt, and Qt developers, for some time to come.
No-one likes the guy giving unwanted advice to everyone, so this seems like a good place to stop. My instinct when something like this happens is to take a step back, see what’s inherently changed, and try to see what the landscape looks like from different perspectives. From my perspective, the future is definitely more challenging than it was a week ago, but it’s not like the Elopocalypse wiped out my livelihood. In fact, I have been thinking about life without Nokia since MeeGo was first announced last year, when I guessed that Nokia would prefer working through the Linux Foundation for an independent eye.
But even if Nokia were my only client, and they were going away tomorrow, I think I could probably find other clients, or get a job, quickly enough. It’s important to put these things in perspective.
February 7, 2011
community, freesoftware, General, gimp, gnome, maemo, openwengo, work
One of the most important documents a project can have is some kind of elaboration of what the maintainers want to see happen in the future. This is the concrete expression of the project vision – it allows people to adhere to the vision, and gives them the opportunity to contribute to its realisation. This is the document I’ll be calling a roadmap.
Sometimes the word “roadmap” is used to talk about other things, like branching strategies and release schedules. To me, a release schedule and a roadmap are related, but different documents. Releasing is about ensuring users get to use what you make. The roadmap is your guiding light, the beacon at the end of the road that lets you know what you’re making, and why.
Too many projects fall into the trap of having occasional roadmap planning processes, and then posting a mighty document which stays, unchanged, until the next time the planning process gets done. Roadmaps like these end up being historical documents – a shining example of how aspirations get lost along the way of product development.
Other projects are under-ambitious. Either there is no roadmap at all, in which case the business as usual of making software takes over – developers are interrupt-driven, fixing bugs, taking care of user requests, and never taking a step back to look at the bigger picture. Or your roadmap is something you use to track tasks which are already underway, a list of the features which developers are working on right now. It’s like walking in a forest at night with a head-light – you are always looking at your feet avoiding tree-roots, yet you have no idea where you’re going.
When we drew up the roadmap for the GIMP for versions 2.0 and 2.2 in 2003, we committed some of these mistakes. By observing some projects like Inkscape (which has a history of excellent roadmapping) and learning from our mistakes, I came up with a different method which we applied to the WengoPhone from OpenWengo in 2006, and which served us well (until the project became QuteCom, at least). Here are some of the techniques I learned, which I hope will be useful to others.
Time or features?
One question with roadmaps is whether hitting a date for release should be included as an objective. Even though I’ve said that release plans and roadmaps are different documents, I think it is important to set realistic target dates on way-points. Having a calendar in front of you allows you to keep people focussed on the path, and avoid falling into the trap of implementing one small feature that isn’t part of your release criteria. Pure time-based releases, with no features associated, don’t quite work either. The end result is often quite tepid, a product of the release process rather than any design by a core team.
I like Joel’s scheduling technique: “If you have a bunch of wood blocks, and you can’t fit them into a box, you have two choices: get a bigger box, or remove some blocks.” That is, you can mix a time-based and feature-based schedule. You plan features, giving each one a priority. You start at the top and work your way down the list. At the feature freeze date, you run a project review. If a feature is finished, or will be finished (at a sufficient quality level) in time for release, it’s in. If it won’t realistically be finished in time for the release date, it’s bumped. That way, you stick to your schedule (mostly), and there is a motivation to start working on the biggest wood blocks (the most important features) first.
A recent article on lessons learned over years of Bugzilla development by Max Kanat-Alexander made an interesting suggestion which makes a lot of sense to me – at the point you decide to feature freeze and bump features, it may be better to create a release branch for stabilisation work, and allow the trunk to continue in active development. The potential cost of this is a duplication of work merging unfinished features and bug fixes into both branches, the advantage is it allows someone to continue working on a bumped feature while the team as a whole works towards the stable release.
Near term, mid term, long term
The Inkscape roadmap from 2005 is a thing of beauty. The roadmap mixes beautifully long-term goals with short-term planning. Each release has a by-line, a set of one or two things which are the main focus of the release. Some releases are purely focussed on quality. Others include important features. The whole thing feels planned. There is a vision.
But as you come closer and closer to the current work, the plans get broken down, itemised further. The BHAGs of a release in 2 years gets turned into a list of sub-features when it’s one year away, and each of those features gets broken down further as a developer starts planning and working on it.
The fractal geometer in me identifies this as a scaling phenomenon – coding software is like zooming in to a coastline and measuring its length. The value you get when measuring with a 1km long ruler is not the same as with a 1m ruler. And as you get closer and closer to writing code, you also need to break down bigger tasks into smaller tasks, and smaller tasks into object design, then coding the actual objects and methods. Giving your roadmap this sense of scope allows you to look up and see in the distance every now and again.
Keep it accurate
A roadmap is a living document. The best reason to go into no detail at all for future releases beyond specifying a theme is that you have no idea yet how long things will take to do when you get there. If you load up the next version with features, you’re probably aiming for a long death-march in the project team.
The inaccurate roadmap is an object of ridicule, and a motivation killer. If it becomes clear that you’re not going to make a date, change the date (and all the other dates in consequence). That might also be a sign that the team has over-committed for the release, and an opportunity to bump some features.
Leave some empty seats
In community projects, new contributors often arrive who would like to work on features, but they don’t know where to start. There is an in-place core team who are claiming features for the next release left & right, and the new guy doesn’t know what to do. “Fix some bugs” or “do some documentation” are common answers for many projects including GNOME (with the gnome-love keyword in Bugzilla) and LibreOffice (with the easy hacks list). Indeed, these do allow you to get to know the project.
But, as has often been said, developers like to develop features, and sometimes it can be really hard what features are important to the core team. This is especially true with commercial software developers. The roadmap can help.
In any given release, you can include some high priority features – stuff that you would love to see happen – and explicitly marked as “Not taken by the core team”. It should be clear that patches of a sufficiently high standard implementing the feature would be gratefully accepted. This won’t automatically change a new developer into a coding ninja, nor will it prevent an ambitious hacker from biting off more than he can chew, but it will give experienced developers an easy way to prove themselves and earn their place in the core team, and it will also provide some great opportunities for mentoring programs like the Google Summer of Code.
The Subversion roadmap, recently updated by the core team, is another example of best practice in this area. In addition to a mixed features & time based release cycle, they maintain a roadmap which has key goals for a release, but also includes a separate list of high priority features.
The end result: Visibility
The end result of a good roadmap process is that your users know where they stand, more or less, at any given time. Your developers know where you want to take the project, and can see opportunities to contribute. Your core team knows what the release criteria for the next release are, and you have agreed together mid-term and long-term goals for the project that express your common vision. As maintainer, you have a powerful tool to explain your decisions and align your community around your ideas. A good roadmap is the fertile soil on which your developer community will grow.
February 1, 2011
I’ll be giving a revised, updated version of my “Community anti-patterns” talk at FOSDEM this Saturday in the cross-desktop devroom, room H.1309, at 14h. While the talk definitely looks at some things that can be wrong in a community (or indeed any organisation), I also try to give some tips on how individuals can make a difference and help improve things when they observe these patterns developing.
I’m looking forward to attending this conference more than I have looked forward to any conference in a while! I hope to see a lot of you there.
January 14, 2011
community, freesoftware, gimp, gnome, inkscape, maemo, meego
Reposted from Neary Consulting
Yesterday I looked into what it means to be a maintainer of a package. Today, I’m going to examine how to affect change in a distribution like MeeGo, and what it means to work upstream. To do so, we’re going to look at how code gets from a developer’s brain into the hands of a user.
So – how can you make a change in a Linux-based distribution? Here’s what happens when everything works as it should:
- You open a bug report for the feature against your distribution
- You identify the module or modules you need to change to implement the new feature
- You open bug reports for each of the modules concerned, detailing the feature and the changes needed in that module for the feature
- You write a patch to implement the feature, and propose it (appropriately cut up for ease of review) to the maintainers of those modules
- Once the code has gone through the appropriate review process, it will be committed to the source control of the module(s)
- Some time later, the maintainer of each module will include that code in a stable release of the module
- Some time after that, the new stable versions will be packaged and uploaded to MeeGo
- Your code will be included in the next release of the distribution following the upload.
When people talk about “working upstream” in MeeGo or Linaro, this is what they mean.
To simplify matters for our analysis, let’s consider that the feature we want to implement is self-contained in one module (or related modules which release together). There are two different scenarios we’ll consider:
- The module is maintained by people not associated with your distribution (for example, a GNU or GNOME project)
- The module is maintained by people closely related to your distribution (for example, Unity in Ubuntu, or oFono in MeeGo)
We will also look at a third situation, where you find and fix a bug in the software you are using – that is, a released version of a distribution (the proverbial “scratching an itch”).
For each case, I will try to pick a representative feature/patch and follow it from developer through to distribution to Real Users.
What if your code changes different projects?
If your code touches several modules (for example, if you are proposing some new API in GTK+ which you want to use in the GIMP) then things can get complicated – you will need a stable version of GTK+ to be released before you can ship a stable release of the GIMP which depends on it.
This issue of staggered releases is one that Andrew Cowie pointed out a few years ago for language bindings. To avoid making bindings on shifting sands, he preferred to package new APIs once they had been included in a stable GNOME release. In turn, Java GNOME developers rarely depend on development release bindings, and they would wait for the new API to be included in a stable bindings release. For example, the gtk_orientable_get_orientation, added to GTK+ at the end of September 2008, was released in GTK+ 2.16, in March 2009. The first version of Java-GNOME which depended on GTK+ 2.16 was version 4.0.13, released in August 2009. That was packaged in distributions in Autumn 2009, and so most users would not have access to the newer bindings for a few months after that – perhaps early 2010 – at which point, the API was written 18 months beforehand.
And that is when you have a regular release schedule you can rely on! Pity the developer who wants to release a GIMP plug-in which depends on some API included in GIMP 2.8 – the last stable GIMP release, 2.6, came out in October 2008, and over two years later, 2.8 still has not released. And when you combine unreliable release schedules for distributions and applications, the results are cumulative: users of the stable Debian distribution are still using GIMP 2.4 releases. The GIMP 2.4 released in October 2007. Features added to the GIMP in late 2007 are still not in the hands of users of stable Debian distributions.
Getting features to users
It is difficult to generalise when users upgrade their Linux distributions, or even to say what proportion of Linux users are new users at any given time. It would be over-simplifying to say that developers use bleeding-edge distributions, power users upgrade early to the latest and greatest, new users install the latest distributions available, but will only upgrade every 18 months or so afterwards, and conservative users stick with “Long term service” or stable distributions. Most developers I know use their computer for work (and thus want a stable distribution) and only install the latest versions of various dependencies they need to work on their project. But let’s generalise and say that this is roughly the case. So (guesstimating) about 10% of your users will be upgrading to the latest distribution very quickly after its release, a further 20% in the months after when the bugs are shaken out, and the rest will follow along in their own time, perhaps 12 or 18 months later.
To make this concrete, let’s follow the life of a single patch. This is complete anecdata, but in my defence, the patch has been chosen by random, from a project which I know has good community processes and release management in place. The patch we’re going to follow adds an extension to Inkscape to render objects along triangular paths.
- Bug #226001 opened on 2008-05-03 by inductiveload, with a description of the feature to be added, and proposed code to implement it. The code, as an extension, may have a lower bar for acceptance than code which is core to a project.
- Patch submission reviewed on 2008-05-03, minor comments, but patch is accepted (note: This was not the authors first submission to Inkscape)
- Patch corrected to respond to comments and committed on 2008-05-03 (did I mention these guys had good community processes!?!)
- Inkscape 0.47-pre0, containing the Triangle extension, released on 2009-07-02
- Inkscape 0.47-pre4 included in Ubuntu 9.10
So for a feature developed in mid 2008, most Inkscape users will still not have the feature by the end of 2009, 18 months later. This is both a typical and atypical example: in many projects, patch proposals lay unreviewed for days, weeks, sometimes months, but the 0.47 release cycle was a particularly long one for Inkscape. However, I think the lag from code written to presence on user’s hard drives of ~12 to 18 months is about correct.
Does it have to be this hard?
If this were the only way to get features into a distribution, trying to improve MeeGo by contributing upstream would be a very frustrating experience. Happily, there are ways to accelerate the process. Taking the MeeGo kernel as an example, where Greg Kroah-Hartman recently threw in the towel on persuading people to propose patches upstream; the process is supposed to work like this:
- Propose a patch for inclusion upstream. This patch will then ship in a future stable kernel release (let’s say 2.6.38).
- After peer review, when the code has been accepted for inclusion in the kernel upstream, propose a backport for inclusion in the MeeGo kernel. The back-ported patch will be maintained across the next MeeGo release, and will be dropped when the kernel version included in the MeeGo project catches up with 2.6.38.
The overhead here is reduced basically to the peer review process of the upstream project, and the cumulative cost of merging a patch over the course of 6 months.
As a distributor (or a developer working on a specific distribution), this allows you to get code to everyone, eventually, and have that code included in your distribution as soon as you are sure that it is up to the standard expected by the community. Currently in MeeGo, the trend seems to be more towards submitting patches concurrently upstream and to MeeGo kernel maintainers (or even submitting them upstream once they have been accepted into the MeeGo kernel). In the case that a patch requires substantial modifications, or is rejected outright, upstream, the kernel maintainers are then left carrying a patch indefinitely in the distribution. For one patch, this might not be a big deal, but for thousands of patches, the maintenance and integration burden of these patches adds up.
It is also not unusual for kernel developers to maintain their own git branches for a long time. Three examples that come to mind are inotify, which Robert Love maintained for over a year for both Novell and in the kernel before it was accepted into the mainline, ReiserFS, which was maintained for several years out-of-tree before being shipped with the Linux kernel in 2001, and the fast desktop patchset which Con Kolivas maintained for almost five years on the -ck kernel branch. Distributions will occasionally ship a substantial diff to upstream if there is a maintainer committed to getting the code upstream eventually. Allocating someone to work over a long period to make everyone happy and comfortable with your code may enable you to ship a big patch to upstream, but this will not be sustainable long term.
To summarise: when working upstream, as a distribution, you should only ship with patches which have been accepted in a development version of upstream already, if you can help it.
Meetings in telephone boxes
Sometimes, however, when upstream and downstream coincide, you can simplify things considerably, while also adding a small measure of risk.
In MeeGo, to continue with that example, the distribution architects have a pretty good idea when they can expect emergency telephony to be ready for oFono and the MeeGo telephony stack, because they’re writing it. By co-ordinating the upstream release management with downstream packaging, you can make promises as a distribution which you can’t with community-developed software.
When upstream and downstream are co-ordinating each other, we cut out the middleman. The workflow becomes:
- Report a bug/feature request against a component of the distribution
- Develop a patch which implements the feature, and submit it directly to the distribution bug tracker
- Once it has been reviewed and accepted, you know that your patch will be included in the next version of the distribution.
This gives a distribution much more control, both over what gets done, and when, and explains both the Ayatana and MeeGo UX development projects. However, being able to plan around the release is no guarantee that the release will happen on time: GNOME has in the past been stung by planning during the 2.6 development cycle to depend on a new version of GTK+, only to find that the release was delayed. In the end, the GTK+ release shipped in time for the 2.6 release at the end of March.
The other patch lifecycle I’d like to mention, because it is so relevant to distributions, was pointed out to me by Federico Mena Quintero yesterday. What happens to a patch that someone makes and submits to a distribution when they find a bug in stable released software? This is one of the key advantages of free software – if you find a bug in the software you use, and you have the wherewithall, you can fix the bug and share that fix with everyone else.
However, as we have seen, there is typically a lag of several months from the time that software is released and the time it is being used by large numbers of users through distributions. With releases of Red Hat Enterprise Linux, Novell Suse Linux Desktop and Ubuntu LTS being supported for up to 5 years, it is possible that important bugs will be fixed in these stable versions for years after the original developers have moved on, and are no longer maintaining older stable versions.
Let’s say I find and fix a bug in Rhythmbox 0.12.5, which ships with Ubuntu 9.10. I open a bug report on Launchpad, attach a fix to the source .deb there, and I update my local copy. As a user, I’m happy – I have fixed my problem and shared the solution with others. If I’m particularly conscientious, I might open a bug on gnome.org against Rhythmbox and attach my patch there, but since the development version is now 0.13.2, the best you can hope for is that the patch applies cleanly to the master branch, and will be included in the next release. It is very unlikely that the upstream maintainers will release another update to the 0.12 series at this point.
Now imagine that you are a maintainer for Suse, and someone reports the same bug against a long-term service release.In practice, there are several different versions being maintained by different distributions, and no good way to know if the same bug has been reported and fixed by someone else. You end up searching for a fix in upstream bug trackers, and in the bug trackers of each of the other main distributions. According to Federico at the time:
Patches for old versions are traded in the black market. You have friends in another distro? You ask them first, “did you guys already fix this?” Those patches don’t ever manage to reach CVS, where everyone would be able to get them.
Ideally, you could collaborate ahead of time with other distributions to ensure that you are all using the same branch of upstream modules, and are committing patches upstream. The Linux kernel is moving to this model, and there are also discussions underway in GNOME to co-ordinate this type of activity. Mark Shuttleworth has also pushed for something similar by encouraging projects in the core Linux platform to have a regular cadence of releases, so that everyone can synchronise their longer term service offerings every couple of years.
But at the moment, the best you can hope for is that your patch will be included in an upcoming release for your distribution, and which point other users of the distro can avail of it, and that upstream will patch their development version and latest stable versions, and get your patch to everyone in a few months.
The goal of this article is to explain what working upstream actually means, and how to make that more palatable for a distribution that wants to get features written and included in their next release. Hopefully, by pointing out some of the shortcomings of the way patches circulate from developers to users, some of these issues can be addressed.
In any case, one thing is clear – if you are carrying a patch as a distribution without ever submitting it upstream, you are making a costly mistake. You will be carrying code that others won’t, and bearing all of the merge and maintenance burden for that code for years to come. The path to maximum happiness is to co-ordinate with other distributions and with upstream to ensure that everyone is working in the same place, and sharing work as much as possible.
January 13, 2011
community, freesoftware, gnome, maemo, meego
Reposted from Neary Consulting
An interesting question was asked on a MeeGo mailing list recently: What does it mean to be a maintainer of something? How much time does it take to maintain software? It resulted in a short discussion which went down a few back alleys, and I think has some useful general information for people working with projects like MeeGo, which are part software development, part distribution.
Are you maintaining software, or a package?
The first question is whether you are asking about maintaining something in the Debian sense, or the GNOME sense?
A Debian package maintainer:
- Tracks upstream development, and ensures new releases of software are packaged and uploaded in a timely manner
- Work with distribution users and other maintainers to identify bugs and integration issues
- Ensure bugs and feature requests against upstream software are reported upstream, and bugs fixed upstream are propagated to the distribution packages
- Fix any packaging related issues, and maintain any distribution-specific patches which have not (yet) been accepted or released upstream
A GNOME project maintainer:
- Makes regular releases of the software they maintain (typically a .tar.gz with “./configure; make; make install” to build)
- Are the primary guardians of the roadmap for the module, and sets the priorities for the project
- Works with packagers, documenters, translators and other contributors to the software to ensure clear communication of release schedules and priorities
- Acts as a central point of contact for release planning, bug reports and patch review and integration
- A typical maintainer is also the primary developer of the software in question, but this is not necessarily the case
Obviously, these two jobs are very different. One places a high priority on coding & communication, another on integration, testing, and communication.
So how much time does maintaining software take?
Well, how long is a piece of string?
To give opposite extremes as examples: Donald Knuth probably spends a median time of 0 hours per week maintaining TeX and Metafont. On the other hand, Linus Torvalds has worked full time maintaining the Linux kernel for at least the past 15 years, and has been increasingly delegating large chunks of maintenance to lieutenants. The maintenance of the Linux kernel is a full time job for perhaps dozens of people.
On a typical piece of GNOME software (let’s take Brasero as an example) much of the work is simplified by following the GNOME release schedule – the schedule codifies string freezes and interface freezes to simplify the co-ordination of translation and documentation. In addition, outside of translation commits, Brasero has had contributions from its maintainer, Philippe Rouquier, and 6 other developers in the last 3 months. Most of these changes are related to the upcoming GTK+ 3 API changes, and involve members of the GTK+ 3 team helping projects migrate.
In total since the 2.32.0 release, there have been 55 commits relating to translations, 50 commits from Philippe, 9 from Luis Medina, co-maintainer of the module, and there were 4 commits by other developers. Of Philippe’s 50 commits, 14 were related to release management or packaging (“Update NEWS file”), 5 were committing patches by other developers that had gone through a review process, and the remainder were features, bug fixes or related to the move to the new GTK+. Of Luis’s commits, 2 were packaging related, and 2 were committing patches by other developers.
This is a lot of detail, but the point I am making is that the “maintenance” part of the work is relatively small, and that the bigger part of maintenance is actually sending out the announcements, paying attention to bug reports and performing timely patch review. I would be interested to know how much time Philippe has spent working on Brasero over the past release cycle. I would guess that he has spent a few hours (somewhere between 5 and 10) a week.
On the other hand, the Debian maintainer for the Brasero package has a different job. There are 6 bugs currently forwarded upstream from the Debian bug tracker, and another 35 or so awaiting some final determination. A number of these look like packaging bugs (“you need version X of dependency Y installed”). The last release packaged and uploaded was 2.30.3-2, dating from November, and there have been 4 releases packaged in the past 8 months, none by the maintainer.
A typical Debian maintainer is a “Debian developer” for several packages. Pedro Fragoso, the Debian maintainer of Brasero, maintains 5 packages. I think it is fair to say that the amount of time a package maintainer spends maintaining an individual package is quite low, unless it is extremely popular. Perhaps a few hours a month.
The package maintainer has little or no say (beyond interacting with the project maintainer and forwarding on bug reports & feature requests) in what happens upstream, or which features have a high priority. His influence comes primarily from the fact that he is representing a larger user base and can indicate which bugs his distro’s users are running into and reporting regularly, or which feature requests are generating a lot of feedback.
What’s in a word?
It’s clear that a package maintainer is not the same thing as a project maintainer. So when Sivan asked on the MeeGo developer list how he could become a maintainer, he clarified later to say that what he was really asking was “How can I affect change in MeeGo?” To do that, you need to write some code that changes a module, or a number of modules, and then you need to get that code into MeeGo.
How that happens, in all its gory details, is the next instalment in this series of at least 2 articles: The Lifecycle of a Patch (or: Working Upstream).
January 6, 2011
community, freesoftware, gnome, maemo
I wrote another guest article for the VisionMobile blog last week, which just went live yesterday, titled “Open Source community building: a guide to getting it right”.
Community software development can be a powerful accelerator of adoption and development for your products, and can be a hugely rewarding experience. Working with existing community projects can save you time and money, allowing you to get to market faster, with a better product, than is otherwise possible. The old dilemma of “build or buy” has definitively changed, to “build, buy or share”.
Whether you’re developing for Android, MeeGo , Linaro or Qt, understanding community development is important. After embracing open development practices, investing resources wisely, and growing your reputation over time, you can cultivate healthy give-and-take relationships, where everyone ends up a winner. The key to success is considering communities as partners in your product development.
By avoiding the common pitfalls, and making the appropriate investment of time and effort, you will reap the rewards. Like the gardener tending his plants, with the right raw materials, tools and resources, a thousand flowers will bloom.
After focusing recently on a lot of the things that people do wrong, I wanted to identify some of the positive things that companies can do to improve their community development experiences: try to fit in, be careful who you pick to work in the community, and ensure that your developers are engaging the project well. If you are trying to grow a community development project around a piece of software, then you should ensure that you lower the barriers to entry for new contributors, ensure that you create a fair and just environment where everyone is subject to the same rules, and don’t let the project starve for lack of attention to things like patch review, communication, public roadmapping and mentoring.
The original title of the article was “Here be dragons: Best practices for community development” – I’ll let you decide whether the VisionMobile editors made a good decision to change it or not.
December 18, 2010
community, freesoftware, maemo, work
Reposted from neary-consulting.com
My article on “Shy Developer Syndrome” a few weeks ago garnered quite a bit of interest, and useful feedback. Since a lot of it adds valuable perspectives to the problem, I thought I should share some of my favourite responses.
Here on gnome.org, Rodney Dawes argued that developers tend to stay away from mailing lists because the more public lists are very noisy:
For me, mailing lists are a huge risk vs. low return problem. They can become a time sink easily, and it’s quite often that pointless arguments get started on them, as offshoots of the original intent of the thread. Web Forums also have this problem. And, to really get much of anything out of a list, you must subscribe to it, as not everyone who replies, is going to put you specifically in the recipients headers. That means, you’re now suddenly going to get a lot more mail than you normally would for any highly active project. And for anyone trying to get involved in an open source community, 99% of the mail on that list is probably going to be totally irrelevant to them. It will just make tracking the conversation they are trying to have, much harder.
I agree with Rodney that dealing with a new level of volume of email is one of the trickiest things for new contributors. I still remember when I signed up to lkml for an afternoon in college, only to find 200 new emails 3 hours later. I panicked, unsubscribed, and gave up that day on being a Linux kernel hacker.
Since then, however, I have learned some email habits which are shared by other free software hackers I know. Everyone I know has their own tricks for working with medium or high volume mailing lists, and some combination of them may make things livable for you, allowing you to hear the signal without being drowned out by the noise. LifeHacker is a good source of tips.
Rob Staudinger says something similar, pointing the finger at bikeshed discussions as a big problem with many community lists:
Will the zealots go and suggest postgresql’s process model was poor, or samba’s memory allocator sucks? Unlikely, but they will tell you your GUI was bad or that you’re using a package format they don’t like, just because it’s so easy to engage on that superficial level.
Over at LWN, meanwhile, Ciaran O’Riordan makes a good point. Many developers working on free software want to separate their work and personal lives.
When I leave the office at 6pm, my work should have no more relevance until the following morning. Same when I quit a company. I might choose to tell people where I work/worked, but it should be a choice, and I should be able to choose how much I tell people about my work. Having mailing list posts and maybe even cvs commits might be too detailed. Maybe waaay too detailed.
Finally, over at neary-consulting.com, MJ Ray suggested that asking individuals to respond to a request can backfire:
Publicly referring to individuals on a mailing list is a double-edged sword. It might bolster the confidence of the named individual, but it also reduces the confidence of other people who might have answered the question. In general, I feel it’s best not to personalise comments on-list. Some e-democracy groups require all messages to be addressed to a (fictional or powerless) chair or editor, similar to the letters pages of The Times.
While I agree with MJ in situations where the answer is accessible to the wider community, but often only developers working for you, the manager, are in a position to reply – at that point, you have a choice: get the information off your developer and answer yourself, or ask him to answer the question. and I’ve found that asking on the list has the positive side-effects I mentioned.
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