Am I a Sadistic Developer? Are You?
Am I a Sadistic Developer? Are You? êŽë š
This code looks⊠sadistic.
Someone reviewing some code I wrote this week
Sadistic, as in I purposefully wrote the code this way to make things harder for myself. Coding in a way that no typical developer would ever write on purpose.
At first, I laughed it off. I mean, Iâm not someone who likes working hard for no reason. People who know me know Iâm actually pretty lazy.
But the comment stuck with me, and I started wondering: what does âdeveloper sadismâ even mean? What does it look like in real life? Whoâs the real sadist here? Me? You?
Letâs find out.
Not All Code Matters Equally
To be fair, the code in question wasnât part of some production project or even a side project. It was just a little CodePen experiment I was playing around with. I was testing out a new CSS feature, trying weird things on purpose to explore how the browser handled different edge cases. Thatâs it.
Iâve always believed in pushing tools to their limits as a way to learn them better. Over the years, Iâve done that with pretty much every technology Iâve worked with. The harder I pushed, the more I understood. âTrain hard, fight easy.â So yes, maybe the code looked a bit messy or over-engineered in that moment. Thatâs fine. Thatâs not sadism, thatâs how you grow.
All that said, Developer Sadism isnât something I just made up (I mean, I did, but bear with me). Weâve all run into tools, APIs, or processes that punish instead of guide, and feel less like helpful utilities and more like a trap. Weâve all stared at a piece of code and thought, what on earth was this person thinking?
But does that count as sadism? We all make mistakes, especially when writing code. Maybe itâs perfectionism, maybe itâs a lack of empathy, or maybe itâs that âtough loveâ culture weâve internalized from years of bad code reviews. I want to believe no one actually means to make things difficult and harder, so maybe itâs more of an âunintentional sadismâ. Still, whether we mean to or not, or even know it or not, we sometimes end up sabotaging ourselves and our code.
The Deadly Sins
One of the (worst?) sins is when there is over-engineering for purity rather than usability, and a perfectly fine solution is sacrificed to chase some ideal architecture. Developers forget that code is meant to be read, understood, and changed by real people. Instead they end up with five layers of abstraction so neat that nobody can figure out how they all connect. This is not clever. This is building walls just to admire them.
Another favorite of mine is when developers chase every shiny new trend without asking if it fits the project. They throw a dozen experimental libraries at a simple page and call it innovation. They never stop to wonder if the tool actually solves their problem or if it just looks cool. The result is a bloated mess that breaks on the slightest breeze. Great for internet points. Horrible for shipping anything.
A nice sub-sin of trend-chasing is when developers fall in love with a specific tool or feature and try to use it for everything (everything!), regardless of whether itâs the right tool for job or not. Iâve seen developers using routing libraries to navigate between elements, just because they love working with React Router. Or developers who slap * { display: flex; }
in their CSS, simply because itâs all they know. While these tools and features have their place, overusing them in situations where theyâre unnecessary can lead to code thatâs hard to maintain and harder to understand. Itâs a good rule of thumb to ask: âDoes this tool actually solve my problem, or am I just using it because itâs my favorite hammer?â
You can even get overly attached to a development philosophy itself. Thereâs a great post by Blake Watson that talks about how he took functional programming too far in a real-world project, only to realize later that clarity and pragmatism matter more than theoretical purity. Itâs a good reminder that no paradigm, however elegant, should override the basic goal: to write code that works, is readable, and makes life easier for the team.
On the more common side, youâll find the sin of laziness. You see it every time you encounter a constant named a, a function named doit()
, or an error message like âInvalid dataâ
that doesnât tell you anything. Sometimes, this laziness can also lead us to skip steps, resulting in things like too-deeply nested ternary expressions. It might seem clever or smart in the moment, but try reading this:
const status = isActive
? hasAccess
? "green"
: isPending
? "orange"
: "red"
: "gray";
There are plenty more sins we could call out, but Iâll save those for another day. For now, consider this one last example: I once knew a developer who set up a CI check so strict, he couldnât even merge his own pull requests. He must have thought watching the team spin in circles was hilarious. Spoiler alert: no one was laughing.
Consequences
Sure, Developer Sadism might start off as a joke, or as a side effect of chasing perfection. But the consequences are very real. Letâs talk about two of the most immediate ones.
Technical Debt in Disguise
A lot of this unintentional sadism hides behind good intentions. It wears the costume of âbest practicesâ, âclean architectureâ or âmodern tooling.â But when you peel that back, itâs often just technical debt in disguise.
These excuses can, and will, slow you down. They make the code harder to change, harder to fix, and harder to trust. The real kicker is that nobody thinks theyâre writing bad code while theyâre doing it. Thatâs the trap.
The Human Cost
The bigger problem? People burn out. Teams waste time. Developers grow cynical.
When every task feels like battling some overengineered monster, momentum dies. You stop improving the product and start just surviving the codebase. That kills creativity, motivation, and morale. And itâs contagious, one personâs impossible setup becomes the whole teamâs daily nightmare.
You know that feeling when a new teammate joins and their first reaction to your codebase is ââŠwhy?â Thatâs not a rite of passage, thatâs a warning sign.
Doing Better with Code That Cares
It doesnât have to be this way. Writing code shouldnât feel like setting traps for yourself or others. It can be better. We can write code that supports us, rather than sabotages us. We can build tools that invite collaboration, not confusion. It starts with being a little more mindful and a lot more human.
Selfâaudit your habits
As developers, we often fall into routines without realizing the impact they have on our workflow and the team. Itâs easy to get stuck in certain habits, like hoarding knowledge, overcomplicating solutions, or getting fixated on âperfectâ code. But all of these tendencies can lead to friction and unnecessary difficulty. Self-auditing means taking a step back and regularly evaluating your own development practices.
Are you the type to hoard useful information, leaving others to struggle or reinvent the wheel? Do you make decisions that you think are clever, but that only you understand? Itâs time to ask yourself: âIs this really the best way to do things? Could someone else come in and immediately grasp whatâs going on?â This kind of reflection helps you become more aware of your own habits and opens the door to more thoughtful and accessible solutions.
By identifying bad habits, we can focus on being more intentional and sharing knowledge freely. Itâs a simple shift, but it can have a huge impact on both your own productivity and the overall team dynamic.
Empathy as a Feature
Great code isnât just about functionality; itâs about making things easy for the people who will interact with it. Empathy means considering your fellow developers and users when building tools, writing documentation, and designing error messages.
Think of onboarding flows and error messages as part of the âuser experience.â Make sure theyâre clear, helpful, and easy to navigate. This ensures that everyone, from your teammates to your users, feels supported and empowered to keep moving forward.
Design for Forgiveness
Mistakes are inevitable, and good tooling should help people recover from them, not punish them for it. Designing with forgiveness in mind means acknowledging that no one gets everything right on the first try.
Add helpful hints, dry-run flags, or âundoâ options in your tooling. These small touches can save time and frustration, allowing people to recover from errors quickly and easily. Itâs about creating a system that lets people try, fail, and learn without making the process feel like a dead-end.
Seek Feedback Constantly
No oneâs code is perfect, and itâs important to invite others to offer their perspectives and learn how they interact with your code. Fresh eyes can catch issues you might have missed and provide valuable insights on usability, clarity, and overall functionality.
Feedback isnât just about finding bugs; itâs about understanding how your design and decisions affect the people using it. By actively seeking feedback, you foster a collaborative environment, ensure your code is accessible, and discover new ways to improve your development practices.
Invest Time in DX
Developer Experience (DX) often gets overlooked, but investing a little extra time in creating clear documentation or providing example scripts can save hours of frustration for the entire team. A small upfront effort to clarify the usage of a tool, library, or API can go a long way in helping others get up to speed quickly and avoid confusion.
A fine-tuned experience and a well-documented system isnât just nice to have, itâs a game-changer for team productivity and happiness. By thinking ahead about how others will interact with your code, you create an environment where everyone can work more efficiently and with less friction.
Conclusion: Letâs Break Free from Sadism
At the end of the day, no one wants to be the source of frustration in the team. By recognizing and improving our own development practices, weâre not just making life easier for ourselves, but weâre helping create a healthier, more productive team environment. The goal isnât perfection, itâs improvement, one step at a time.
Have you seen yourself in any of the âsadisticâ practices talked about above? See if you can try to eliminate it in some way this week. Whether itâs simplifying your solutions, sharing knowledge more freely, or making your code more approachable, small steps lead to big changes.
And remember, weâve all been there.
Got a horror story to share? Or maybe you have your own tips for avoiding sadistic habits? Drop a comment and letâs keep the conversation going!