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Let’s get something out of the way first: clean code is not a religion. It’s not a moral compass. It’s not the divine blueprint handed down from the software gods. It’s a tool. And like any tool, it can help you build beautiful things—or, if used like a brain-dead zealot, it can waste your time faster than a two-hour Zoom meeting about "synergy."
You're not here to write code that looks like it belongs in a museum. You're here to solve problems.
And the cold, brutal truth?
But before you flip your desk and scream, “Blasphemy!” let’s dig into why.
? Cognitive Load Is the Real Villain, Not "Unclean" Code
Your brain—yes, that wrinkly meatball in your skull—is not optimized for obsessing over the Single Responsibility Principle like some neurotic monk. Your brain wants to do one thing: not be overwhelmed.
In cognitive psychology, there’s this lovely concept called cognitive load. It’s how much mental effort it takes to process information. The more load, the more your brain goes:
When you’re organizing or refactoring code, your real job isn’t to make it look like it belongs in a programming textbook—it’s to reduce the cognitive load for whoever touches that code next (especially if that’s Future You, hungover on cold brew and existential dread).
Look, abstractions are useful. Nobody wants to repeat the same code like some digital Groundhog Day. But here’s the kicker:
Most developers treat abstractions like collectibles.
They create interfaces for their interfaces, repositories for their repositories, until you’re ten layers deep and can’t remember why you started programming in the first place.
From a cognitive standpoint, each layer of abstraction adds a mental hop. Your working memory—bless its tiny capacity—can only juggle so many things before it drops the ball and says, “I’m out.”
So ask yourself:
? Context Matters More Than Consistency
Here’s where most clean code cultists lose the plot: they believe the rules apply universally.
As if software was a holy text and not a fluid, messy, living thing.
Psychology calls this contextual reasoning. It means your brain makes better decisions when it considers the specific situation rather than blindly following rules.
Want a good example?
? Flexibility Is a Feature, Not a Flaw
There’s a certain breed of developer who thinks flexibility is a sign of weakness. They’ll slap your wrist for inconsistent spacing but won’t bat an eye at a function that takes eight arguments and triggers a mild panic attack.
Don’t be that person.
Psychologically, flexibility is linked to creative problem solving. Rigid minds cling to rules because they’re scared shitless of ambiguity.
But if you want to actually innovate—write code that solves hard problems in interesting ways—you need to get comfortable with a little chaos.
And yes, sometimes that means your code won’t win a standing ovation from the Clean Code purists. That’s fine. You’re not writing for them.
At the end of the day, you’re not here to win the Refactoring Olympics.
You’re here to write code that works, that’s understandable, and that doesn’t turn your brain into mashed potatoes every time you revisit it.
So next time you’re knee-deep in a codebase wondering whether to break that file into smaller pieces, or whether to DRY that block, stop and ask the only question that matters:
If it hurts—don't.
And if you're not sure? Flip a coin and move on.
You’ve got better things to do than worship the Church of Clean Code.
You're not here to write code that looks like it belongs in a museum. You're here to solve problems.
And the cold, brutal truth?
In fact, that might be better.
But before you flip your desk and scream, “Blasphemy!” let’s dig into why.
? Cognitive Load Is the Real Villain, Not "Unclean" Code
Your brain—yes, that wrinkly meatball in your skull—is not optimized for obsessing over the Single Responsibility Principle like some neurotic monk. Your brain wants to do one thing: not be overwhelmed.
In cognitive psychology, there’s this lovely concept called cognitive load. It’s how much mental effort it takes to process information. The more load, the more your brain goes:
...and checks out.
When you’re organizing or refactoring code, your real job isn’t to make it look like it belongs in a programming textbook—it’s to reduce the cognitive load for whoever touches that code next (especially if that’s Future You, hungover on cold brew and existential dread).
- Code that’s overly “clean” but scattered across 17 tiny files and 14 abstraction layers? ? High cognitive load.
- Code that’s “ugly” but understandable in five seconds? ? A gift from the gods of sanity.
Look, abstractions are useful. Nobody wants to repeat the same code like some digital Groundhog Day. But here’s the kicker:
Most developers treat abstractions like collectibles.
They create interfaces for their interfaces, repositories for their repositories, until you’re ten layers deep and can’t remember why you started programming in the first place.
From a cognitive standpoint, each layer of abstraction adds a mental hop. Your working memory—bless its tiny capacity—can only juggle so many things before it drops the ball and says, “I’m out.”
So ask yourself:
Because if it’s the latter, congratulations—you’ve become the software version of a guy who only talks in gym metaphors and wears protein powder like cologne.
? Context Matters More Than Consistency
Here’s where most clean code cultists lose the plot: they believe the rules apply universally.
- Always abstract.
- Always DRY.
- Always separate concerns.
As if software was a holy text and not a fluid, messy, living thing.
Psychology calls this contextual reasoning. It means your brain makes better decisions when it considers the specific situation rather than blindly following rules.
Want a good example?
Good code adapts. Great developers know when to break the rules.
? Flexibility Is a Feature, Not a Flaw
There’s a certain breed of developer who thinks flexibility is a sign of weakness. They’ll slap your wrist for inconsistent spacing but won’t bat an eye at a function that takes eight arguments and triggers a mild panic attack.
Don’t be that person.
Psychologically, flexibility is linked to creative problem solving. Rigid minds cling to rules because they’re scared shitless of ambiguity.
But if you want to actually innovate—write code that solves hard problems in interesting ways—you need to get comfortable with a little chaos.
- Refactor when it makes sense.
- Abstract when it helps.
- Ignore rules when they’re slowing you down.
And yes, sometimes that means your code won’t win a standing ovation from the Clean Code purists. That’s fine. You’re not writing for them.
? The Real Question Isn’t “Is This Clean?” It’s “Does This Make Sense?”
At the end of the day, you’re not here to win the Refactoring Olympics.
You’re here to write code that works, that’s understandable, and that doesn’t turn your brain into mashed potatoes every time you revisit it.
So next time you’re knee-deep in a codebase wondering whether to break that file into smaller pieces, or whether to DRY that block, stop and ask the only question that matters:
If it helps—do it.
If it hurts—don't.
And if you're not sure? Flip a coin and move on.
You’ve got better things to do than worship the Church of Clean Code.