Just Ask - A Story About Growth as a Developer

I've been coding for a long time. When I first started, I remember feeling such a profound sense of insecurity that it stopped me from ever asking for help—or even asking questions of any kind. It got so bad that it morphed into a fear of losing face, as if asking was somehow a violation of some unwritten coder’s code of honor.

Years later, after I had learned to suffer through my own problems in silence, something very unique and enlightening happened. I went to work as a computer science instructor at a local technical college. There, I met someone—another instructor—who I quickly became friends with.

Let’s call him Paul. Paul is probably the smartest man I know. His intelligence truly approaches the level of genius, and I’m not exaggerating. He was working on artificial intelligence systems 20 years before “AI” was even a buzzword. He went on to code the firmware inside pacemakers. Today, he's the Director of Research and Development at a major medical device corporation.

Anyway, our story begins in the lab at the technical college. My class was over, and I had my students in the lab working on an assignment or exercise I had given them. Next thing I know, Paul walks into the lab, comes straight up to me, and asks a question about a C++ statement he was planning to include in an assignment for his own students.

It wasn’t a hard question, but it was obscure enough that many coders wouldn’t know the answer. I just happened to know it. However, what truly astonished me wasn’t the question—it was the fact that he, of all people, didn’t know. Even more astonishing was that he came up and asked me. Wasn’t he embarrassed?

When I gave him the answer, I hesitated for a second, then decided to ask—because at that point in our friendship, I felt close enough to be candid.

“Paul,” I said, “I know what you were hung up on isn’t something that’s generally known... but weren’t you a little embarrassed to ask?”

He looked straight at me, and without missing a beat, said:

“If I don’t ask, how would I ever know the answer?”

At that moment, it was as if the heavens opened up and a light shone down on me. I felt so foolish. He was absolutely right.

What was truly life-changing was the realization that I had suffered through my career for so many years with a false sense of pride—one that could have been completely avoided. From that point on, I subscribed to my friend Paul’s way of coding and software engineering.

If you don’t know, why not ask? How else will you ever get better?

Sure, you’ll eventually figure things out on your own, but is it really worth putting yourself through all that? Especially when there are colleagues—many of whom are more than willing to help at a moment’s notice. That’s how we grow as developers and move on to bigger and brighter things.

It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I realized I wasn’t alone. Nearly every software engineer I encountered—whether novice or expert—struggled through their problems in silence, rarely asking for help or bouncing ideas off colleagues. And it hit me: this wasn’t just my issue. This was a cultural issue in our profession.

Fast forward several years. I’m working at a company, and one of my coworkers is a young firmware engineer. She had just accepted a new job and was about to move on. In her, I saw a little bit of myself—back when I was just starting out.

On her last day, I went to say goodbye and, before she left, I told her this little story about me and Paul from my earlier days as a developer. When I finished, her eyes lit up. I didn’t expect it to impact her the way it did—but why wouldn’t it? The experience had affected me quite drastically.

She told me she often felt the same way—apprehensive about asking for help. That sometimes, when she got stuck, she wanted to ask someone... but it felt embarrassing. She thanked me, and left.

It put a big smile on my face, because I knew I had changed the way she thought about software engineering—and perhaps the way she would move forward in her career.

I don’t know where this feeling of inadequacy or embarrassment comes from, but it has to stop. As software engineers, we put so much pressure on ourselves. We think we have to know everything—every nuance of every language, every protocol, every piece of technology that’s ever been developed since the dawn of the software age.

Not so.

If you’re stuck, ask—and see what happens. You’ll live a much happier, more productive life. And you wouldn’t believe how far that simple change can take you in your career.

That, I know for a fact.