A few weeks ago I accidentally sparked, via this tweet, an entertaining debate about what it takes to be called a developer. This led to my post "Do you even develop, bro?", where I explained my view on when it might be appropriate. (Spoiler: It's a broad term.) But my friend Brendan Whitsitt of Imprint Development has just published an even better post on the topic. It's called "Developer vs. Dirt-Flipper" and you should give it a read.

In it, he says this:

So if we tried to sketch a Platonic ideal for what a developer is, we might say that the ideal developer would have a solid understanding of, and experience in, all phases of development, including construction. This person will have a holistic perspective that attempts to optimize across all phases of a project rather than just one part.

This doesn't relate directly to the debate of who should be called a developer, but I think it's an insightful comment. Developers have very specific skillsets, but they also tend to be generalists. Our job is to stitch together lots of different disciplines and elements to ultimately produce a space that people can live, work, play, and/or do other things inside. The more you know about the entire process, the better you can be at any one part.

I even think this transcends just the development process. The more you know and understand about cities, market trends, human behavior and countless other things, the more thoughtful you can be about formulating new developments. It's never ending and it makes for an interesting line of work. But I do think this raises the question of: When is it valuable to specialize?

For example, some development companies like to follow a division of labor model. One team focuses on acquiring new sites, one team focuses on approvals/entitlements, and so on. Once a particular phase is completed, the project gets passed on to the next group. And in theory, these specialist teams should be able to go deeper and harder than a team forced to spread their time.

But on the flip side, it means that the person trying to buy sites might not be thinking about what a pain in the ass it will be to build on. They may just be trying to get deals done. Let the other team worry about building the thing. So personally, I've always liked the accountability that comes with taking a project from beginning to end — it's never somebody else's problem. It's your problem.

Of course, even if you don't do this, you're still a developer.

Cover photo by Max Langelott on Unsplash

A few weeks ago I accidentally sparked, via this tweet, an entertaining debate about what it takes to be called a developer. This led to my post "Do you even develop, bro?", where I explained my view on when it might be appropriate. (Spoiler: It's a broad term.) But my friend Brendan Whitsitt of Imprint Development has just published an even better post on the topic. It's called "Developer vs. Dirt-Flipper" and you should give it a read.

In it, he says this:

So if we tried to sketch a Platonic ideal for what a developer is, we might say that the ideal developer would have a solid understanding of, and experience in, all phases of development, including construction. This person will have a holistic perspective that attempts to optimize across all phases of a project rather than just one part.

This doesn't relate directly to the debate of who should be called a developer, but I think it's an insightful comment. Developers have very specific skillsets, but they also tend to be generalists. Our job is to stitch together lots of different disciplines and elements to ultimately produce a space that people can live, work, play, and/or do other things inside. The more you know about the entire process, the better you can be at any one part.

I even think this transcends just the development process. The more you know and understand about cities, market trends, human behavior and countless other things, the more thoughtful you can be about formulating new developments. It's never ending and it makes for an interesting line of work. But I do think this raises the question of: When is it valuable to specialize?

For example, some development companies like to follow a division of labor model. One team focuses on acquiring new sites, one team focuses on approvals/entitlements, and so on. Once a particular phase is completed, the project gets passed on to the next group. And in theory, these specialist teams should be able to go deeper and harder than a team forced to spread their time.

But on the flip side, it means that the person trying to buy sites might not be thinking about what a pain in the ass it will be to build on. They may just be trying to get deals done. Let the other team worry about building the thing. So personally, I've always liked the accountability that comes with taking a project from beginning to end — it's never somebody else's problem. It's your problem.

Of course, even if you don't do this, you're still a developer.

Cover photo by Max Langelott on Unsplash