Sometimes, the inspiration for this blog comes from the strangest places. This time… it was an oil change.
I had been putting off changing my oil for far too long and finally took advantage of some free time last Friday to get it changed. I used to change it myself, but for some reason, in this new car (well new used car, but that’s a story for another day) I’ve always paid to get it changed. (And actually why I stopped changing it myself is also a blog post for another day.)
Anyway, I’ve twice now gone to the local Valvoline. This isn’t really an add for Valvoline specifically but more a comment on what I found interesting there.
So, most places where I’ve had my oil changed, you park, go in, give them your name and car keys and wait. Not here, they actually have you drive the car into the bay itself and you sit in the car the entire time. I think this is a bit more efficient, but since, instead of lifting the car, they have a pit under the car, I suppose they do risk someone driving their car into the pit (yes, it’s guarded by a low rail on either side, but you know there are drivers just that bad out there).
So, while sitting there I observed them doing two things I’m a huge fan of: using a checklist and calling out.
As I’ve talked about in my book and here in my own blogs, I love checklists. I recommend the book The Checklist Manifesto. They help reduce errors. And while changing oil is fairly simple, mistakes do happen; the wrong oil gets put in, the drain plug isn’t properly tightened, too much gets put in, etc.
So hearing them call out and seeing them check off on the computer what they were doing, helps instill confidence. Now, I’m sure most, if not all oil change places do this, but if you’re sitting in the waiting room, you don’t get to see it.
But they also did something else which I found particularly interesting: they did a version of Pointing and Calling. This is a very common practice in the Japanese railway system. One study showed it reduced accidents by almost 85%. So while changing my oil, the guy above would call out what he was doing. It was tough to hear everything he was calling out, but I know at one point the call was “4.5 Maxlife” He then proceeded to put in what I presume was 4.5 quarts of the semi-synthetic oil into my engine (I know it was the right oil because I could see which nozzle he selected). I didn’t count the clicks, but I believe there was 9. Now, other than the feedback of the 9 clicks, the guy in the pit couldn’t know for sure that it was the right oil and amount, but, I’m going to guess he had a computer terminal of his own and had his screen said “4 quarts standard” he’d have spoken up. But even if he didn’t have a way of confirming the call, by speaking it out loud the guy above was engaging more of his brain in his task, which was more likely to reduce the chances of him making a mistake.
I left the oil change with a high confidence that they had done it right. And I was glad to know they actually were taking active steps to ensure that.
So, what about the rubber duck?
Well, a while back I started to pick up the habit of rubber duck debugging. Working at home, alone, it’s often hard to show another developer my code and ask, “Why isn’t this working?” But, if I encounter a problem and I can’t seem to figure out why it’s not working. I now pull out a rubber duck and start working through the code line by line. It’s amazing how well this works. I suspect that by taking the time to slow down to process the information and by engaging more of my brain (now the verbal and auditory portions), like pointing and calling, it helps bring more of my limited brain power to bear on the problem. And if that doesn’t work, I still have my extended brain.
PS As a reminder, this coming Saturday I’m speaking at SQL Saturday Philadelphia. Don’t miss it!