Analyse This

Analyse This
- Statistical Mayhem

Arunabha

The manager winces as the High Priestess of Quality Assurance walked into his room with her junior priest in tow.
Motioning them to sit, he keeps clutching that object of sustenance which has become his tormentor, friend and refuge at different times of the day since his promotion – the telephone. He does not try to wind up quickly – in fact he prolongs the conversation so much that the resource management group representative at the other end of the line has peculiar ideas. From time to time our manager peeps at the chairs out of the corner of his eye, half-hoping that the Priests have left to haunt him later, but the Priestess is there, patient, persevering and purposeful. The Junior Priest is itching to go for a long overdue smoke, but the icy expression of his lady boss freezes his desires to impotence.
When he cannot continue the conversation any further without his orientation being brought up for scrutiny, the manager turns to face the evangelists. He forces a smile onto his face.
“Yes madam,” he charms the Priestess. “What can I do for you?”
Madam smiles. People say she is attractive, but oddly enough the manager’s basic instincts are reminded of a hand inching towards an ice pick.
“The Metrics Analysis for CB25 …,” the Priestess starts. The incantation finds its target and the manager winces again.
“Yes, I saw your mail,” he says, eager to nip it in the bud.
“I mailed twice,” the Priestess complains. The manager averts his eyes. “After his mails,” she points at her Junior Priest, “Were not answered by your Project Lead.”
“Well … er … he’s not only the Project Lead,” the manager tries to chuckle, but the sound is of someone trying to cough out an unwanted frog from the trachea. “He’s also the only member of the Project. It’s a one member team, you know?”
The Junior Priest nods vigorously and the Priestess with disdain. She has the print out of the Project’s numerical details with her. She can rattle them off without the manager’s help … 1 person week’s effort, 1 resource who was also allocated 20% to project CB26, Schedule Variation of 0% and 1 post production defect.
“And he is also allocated to another project …,” the manager mumbles and the Priestess cuts him short.
“CB26. 20%. But the Metrics have to be captured.”
“Well, the project lasted one week and there being only one person ...”
The Priestess looks at him with reproach. She bangs her thick Scriptures on the desk. The fine print announcing 06TR008 Capability Maturity Model Integrated for Development intimidates the manager. His eyes dart for cover.
“CMMi tells us that Metrics need to be …,” the Priestess begins even as the Junior Priest weighs the pros and cons to take up cudgels for the Manager.
The manager has had enough. The little free time that he gets for himself are spent guzzling beer and watching cricket, both of which he does with a lot of passion. Cricket has taught him an invaluable lesson. The most dangerous position on the field is the forward short leg, where a powerful pull off the bat can take off one’s head. And invariably the rookie in the side gets to field there.
He picks up his phone and calls for the Project Leader.

The PL is a year out of college. He is awed by the countenance of importance on the severe good looks of the High Priestess. He has exchanged pleasantries once or twice with the Junior Priest who is not too intimidating. However, he has never encountered the formidable female. He has seen men more senior and experienced than he rush out at escape velocity to the haven of the smoking zones at the mere mention of her name.
“Did you do some analysis on your defects?” she asks him as they sit around his PC in his cubicle.
The PL blinks. “Defects?” he mouths. He is not too sure what his defects were.
The Junior Priest speaks for the first time.
“You had a post production defect, didn’t you?”
“Er… yes,” the PL mutters cautiously. “That’s fixed. I delivered it to the client …”
“Did you do some RCA?” the Priestess asks.
The PL looks blankly at the two. “Did I do what?”
“RCA,” repeats the High Priestess slowly. “It’s required for CAR.”
The PL squeezes a pimple at the tip of his nose. The Junior Priest notices it and suddenly realizes that the PL is young enough to have pimples. He is filled with compassion.
“Root Cause Analysis,” he says. “She wants to know if you found the root cause of the defect.”
“What is CAR?” asks the PL, still dazed.
“Causal Analysis and Resolution. It’s a PA of CMMi,” says the Priestess.
“Process Area of Capability Maturity Model Integrated,” explains the kind hearted Junior Priest.
“We are going in for CMMi re-certification at version 1.2,” the High Priestess informs the kid. “You know that, don’t you?”
Something in her tone suggests a menace, and the PL thinks he would do better to nod. He does. The Junior Priest generally puts down this intimidation of his boss to menopausal madness. He looks at the PL kindly.
“It’s all there in the latest QAG newsletter,” he says.
The PL’s head swims. “You know what QAG is, don’t you?” asks the High Priestess.
“Quick Acronym Guide?” the PL asks hopefully.
“Quality Assurance Group,” the Junior Priest hastens to say before the High Priestess can react. “So, defects … did you do any root cause analysis?”
The PL wipes a bead of sweat that appears on his forehead in spite of the air conditioning.
“Er … there was a defect and I fixed it. Now everything is okay.”
The Priestess notes something down in her pad. The PL winces at the formidable and fat Holy Writ that she is carrying with her.
“But, what was the cause of the defect?” she asks.
“Well, I was confused about the parameter that was returned by the business layer,” the PL confesses. Junior Priest thinks he sees a glistening tear in his eyes. “So, the result was off by a factor of hundred. I did not know the middle tier produced percentage figures.”
The Priestess writes some more. “Did you use any tool for this analysis?”
“Tool? Requirement Analysis?”
“No, Defect Analysis. Did you use a fishbone?”
The PL has reached his saturation limit. “Fishbone?” he asks. “I am a vegetarian.”
Junior Priest steps in again, filled with compassion.
“Fishbone diagram. Or Ishikawa diagram.”
“Ishi what?”
“Ishikawa or fishbone … It is Japanese.”
The PL stares at them, battling with the problem.
“You mean Sushi?”
The High Priestess has had enough ignorance for a day. She turns to her protégé.
“Show him and get it done,” she decrees.
“But, the project has ended,” protests Junior Priest feebly, the objection dying a painful death at the steely gaze of his boss.
He produces his pad and proceeds to draw the fishbone diagram. He explains the Five M’s and the cause and the cause of cause as the High Priestess watches like a hawk.
The PL, having given up the losing battle of trying to equate his week long project to the esoteric elucidation of the fishy technique, nods cautiously.
“Can you do one of these for your defect now?” asks the Priestess once the Junior Priest is done.
The PL looks desperately at the Junior Priest who looks consolingly with pity in his eyes. He agrees.
“And you need a Pareto,” the Priestess sums up.
“Pareto?” the Junior Priest cannot keep from asking aloud.
The PL wonders whether this is a role, a tool or another acronym.
“Yes, Pareto,” articulates the High Priestess. “Do I need to explain what that is?” she looks haughtily at her underling.
“But, there is just one defect!!”
“Can’t one fill the defect in the template?” she retorts back.
“It makes no sense,” the Junior Priest cannot restrain himself.
“What does not make sense?”
“An 80-20 breakup of one solitary defect,” begins the Junior Priest, but he gives up. The High Priestess is too high in the echelons of Process and Quality to indulge in such frivolous pastimes like making sense.
“Okay, I’ll sit with him and get it done,” the Junior Priest offers.
The PL, who had got as much as “Process And Reality’s Eternal Troubled …” in his expansion of Pareto, looks at him with heartfelt gratitude.
The High Priestess gets up, eager to catch up on more errant projects and forcing some statistical analysis on to them.
“Thanks … and make sure there is Corrective and Preventive Action for the Root Cause,” she says.
“Preventive … but the project is over and done with,” the Junior Priest mumbles, but then the PL steps in.
“It’s okay, I have a Preventive Action from the last documentation project that we did. We used it for every defect. We’ll use that.”
This gladdens the heart of the High Priestess. Reusing Process Assets has been one of her pet themes. She makes a note to put this in as a Best Practice.
She turns around just as she was on the verge of leaving. Both the men wince.
“By the way, what was your size?”
“Size?” the PL ponders. He remembers having seen the Quality Group flaunt similar tee-shirts in an office gathering. He remembers QAG being embossed on the chest. So, is he to be presented one of those for his cooperation? He could always patch the QAG sign with something trendy. “Large or Extra Large, both fits,” he says with a grin.
The High Priestess inhales and exhales with restraint. The Junior Priest hastens to intervene.
“She means size of your project.”
“Size?”
“Did you estimate?”
“It’s a one week project,” the PL says helplessly.
The High Priestess sighs. “So, you have no size measure? How did you get the predicted number of defects?”
“Predicted …?” the PL now had visions of the High Priestess performing some cabalistic chants in a Japanese temple, throwing fishbones into a cauldron, coming up with divine prophecies about the number of defects.
The Junior Priest steps in again.
“CMMi asks us to do some prediction … based on historical data …,” he nods reassuringly at the High Priestess that he will get everything done for the project. The lady leaves, shaking her head in exasperation. The PL lets out a sigh of eternal relief.
“Historical data. That allows us to predict defect. Where is the data?” he asks.
“The Organization’s repository,” the Junior Priest answers, again instigating visions of a cauldron in the now feverish mind of the PL. “There’s nothing there of course. No data whatsoever other than a post facto sprinkling from time to time. But, then, we need to predict.”
The PL tries hard to understand.
“Predict what? Based on what? And where does size come into the picture? You…you can predict better by reading the PL’s palm.”
The Junior Priest considers this.
“You can raise it as a PIS. I’m sure my boss will consider it and put it up for review.”
“Now, what the hell is this piss?”
“Process Improvement Suggestion. But, then, you are too worked up. Let’s go for a smoke. When we come back, we’ll do the prediction, analysis, prevention and mitigation at one go.”
The two of them walk out of the bay, holding on to each other in mutual symbiosis in a fatiguing world.