Cargo Culting in Software

In everyday life, we do certain things. Decide certain things. Not always because we understand why, but because people who are successful – people who we look up to – appear to be doing it. In the world of software, this phenomenon is called cargo culting.

How and where did this strange term originate? What are some examples of cargo culting in the software industry? If it is a thing that occurs, what mindset should we embrace? And is cargo culting necessarily a bad thing?


The term has its roots in World War II. The Allies deployed troops to islands in the Pacific Ocean, establishing airbases. Planes regularly flew over them, dropping cargo as the natives watched in astonishment. What in the world is going on? All this technology. All these changes to the surroundings. Food and equipment, falling from the skies?

Vanuatu, an island country in the Pacific Ocean, has a cargo cult that survives to this day.

The troops abandoned the islands after the war. No more cargo dropped. But some natives, in an attempt to get cargo to drop again, tried to restore their surroundings. They built fabricated control towers and replicas of airplanes. They paraded, carrying wooden rifles, and stood on runways, waving tree branches. They had formed a cult – a cargo cult.

See, they had fallen into the trap of confusing correlation with causation. As humans, we’re good at social learning. We take on behaviors by observing others and through being told things, even in the absence of direct reinforcement.

In Software

In software, cargo culting can come in many different shapes and forms. Copy-pasting from Stack Overflow, without understanding what the snippet of code is doing. Running obscure commands and shell scripts. Overzealously following conventions, patterns, and principles.

But beyond the individual lines of code, cargo culting can also affect our applications and even organizations at large. Let’s discuss two such examples: microservices and Agile.


Features get added to our application. More and more use cases need to be supported. Its code base grows. To manage the growth in complexity, we separate concerns and modularize our code.

So the appeal of microservices is apparent. You have small, independent components that can be created and maintained by small and independent teams. They can be deployed and scaled independently. Because they’re small and specific, it’s easier to make them reusable. Besides, Amazon and Netflix are using microservices, and they’re successful. It would be reasonable to assume that if you use microservices, you’ll be successful, too, right?

A monolith split into microservices.

In reality, you’re making considerable tradeoffs. What if you need to work on a feature that spans multiple services? Do you still benefit much from having independent components and teams? How do you orchestrate, monitor, and troubleshoot your services? While there are great tools nowadays, those are still tools you need to know about and know how to use well. Adopting microservices is not a cakewalk. You need serious expertise.

At the same time, nothing is stopping you from modularizing code in a monolith. You intend to adopt microservices because the monoliths you’ve worked on always turn out “messy.” If that’s the case, what makes you think you’ll do a good job splitting your monolith? If you struggle with managing a monolith, will things get easier with microservices? Are you sure you’ll not end up with an even more complex monolith, disguised as microservices?

Microservices are great and solve real-world problems. Otherwise, Amazon and Netflix wouldn’t be using them. But we have to take the time to understand these organizations and their use cases. Then look ourselves in the mirror, asking questions. Does it make sense for us, and does it make sense for us right now? What is our product? Do we have enough developers, and do they have the necessary skills? Are we prepared to acquire those skills? Are we, as an organization, capable of attracting and retaining such talent?

It’s also worth asking ourselves the tough questions. Are we adopting microservices because we’re skirting around actual problems? Problems with communication and cooperation? Have we hired too many developers who chase shiny objects? Is there a severe lack of technical leadership? Are non-technical people making abrupt top-down decisions, when they come back from conferences?

These are questions we must answer. If we don’t do our homework, we’ll end up losing more than we gain from microservices. We’ll be too busy shooting ourselves in the foot, to be delivering value to our end users.


Creating software requires coordination and collaboration. A term that gets brought up in this context is Agile. We’re an Agile organization. We do Agile software development. We’re Agile. It’s brought up so often, in different settings by different people, that every once in awhile, we have to look up what it is.

Colleagues gathering around a Scrum Board.

Agile was born in response to the ideas of Frederick Taylor. He was one of the most influential figures of the 20th century, having improved industrial efficiency. He viewed the average worker as uneducated and lazy. So you get intelligent people and pay them more, to figure out how the workers should work. This thinking was also prevalent in the software industry.

However, having separate process people doesn’t lend itself well to software development. We’re knowledge workers. We’re well educated and well paid. Our work is contextual, seeing as software is used to solve a wide array of problems. In all kinds of organizations, industries, and countries, to boot. Hence, one of the pillars of Agile is letting actual workers decide how they work, through evaluating and iterating. “Individuals and Interactions over processes and tools.”

It’s often difficult to gather requirements and plan long-term when it comes to software. Two other pillars of Agile are “Responding to Change over following a plan” and “Working Software over comprehensive documentation.” What’s not so apparent at first glance, is that doing these two things requires a high degree of technical know-how, similar to the case with microservices. You need developers who understand how to write modular code and tests. Developers who understand the importance of refactoring often. Developers who understand continuous integration. And last but not least, your organization as a whole needs to understand this.

Yet, we adopt a one-size-fits-all process in our organization. We rename Project Managers as Scrum Masters and stakeholders as Product Owners. We rename our meetings as stand-ups and buy planning poker decks.

While this is going on, the command and control mindset still permeates our organization. We’re making top-down decisions. Hierarchies in communication remain. We continue viewing our developers as assembly line workers. There are no plans to raise their technical skills and no plans to improve the software literacy of our entire organization.

To top things off, we boast that we are now Agile. After a certain point, we have to stop and ask ourselves: are we that much different from the cargo culting natives?

Being Agile is hard. We can’t just mimic superficial behaviors of successful Agile organizations and think that we’ll gain the same benefits. Agile is a set of values and principles. How to best apply them depends, and we have to do our homework while looking at our organization, our products, and through talking to our people to figure it out.


We cargo cult in our everyday lives, as well as in the software industry.

On realizing this, I strive to understand why I do and decide certain things as a developer. I also strive to be better at explaining my reasoning. By doing this, I show others what I’ve taken into consideration, giving them a chance to point out what I’ve missed. All the companies we work for, including those we found, have cult-like characteristics to some degree. Hence, every time I get a new colleague, I try to make it a habit to tell them not to be afraid of questioning things.

On the flip side, cargo culting is not always a bad thing. Life is complicated, and so is being a developer. Having to understand why you do something all the time is exhausting. Successful people and successful companies do a lot of things right, after all. The real danger lies in cargo culting far-reaching decisions that impact our lives, and our software. It lies in failing to realize and admit that we are, and in our unwillingness to understand.