While I do have a respect for Chesterson's Fence as a concept, sometimes the answer to "why is it this way" is "we were learning as we went, and if we did it again, we'd do it another way."
I look at it this way: When you look at an older city built before the age of the car, they were built to be tiny to start, not more than a set of shacks. As the town built wealth, the buildings went to more sturdy, to multi-story, and to more ornate structures. Similarly, our code should start simple and dirty, then cleaned up as it has proved its worth, and then refactored to more robust patterns as the code has built the wealth (and demand) to justify it.
We should consider rewrites, then, as a sign of value, rather than as a sign of the previous programmer's failure.
This is true! In fact there's a lot of that, in my own experience. Rewrites are probably most useful on code you wrote, rather than on someone else's, and right when you realize what went wrong, while you're still intimately familiar with the old code.
I've watched two different companies follow the "things will be so much better if we rewrite" logic and rationalize large scale rewrites that cost millions, and years, and failed to achieve the aims of doing it better the second time.
Rewrites should be considered a sign of value only if we actually learned from out mistakes, only if both everything wrong with the old code and everything right with the old code are well understood. If you rewrite anything substantial before that, you're just guessing, and you're most likely (in my experience) going to suffer taking longer than you want and making the same mistakes again. I've seen that happen to many very smart people.
So there's a balance. Rewrites are sometimes valuable, but not automatically valuable. Sometimes rewrites are very harmful. The best chance you have of knowing which one is to read lots and lots of code before you start, to make absolutely sure that the code you're replacing is never being replaced only because the readers didn't understand it or didn't like it's patterns.
OTOH, if you have complete test coverage in place before a rewrite, you can freely annihilate and redo large portions of code without having to study too hard.
1. Previous developers did X and X is bad, therefore, their code needs to be rewritten without doing X.
2. Oh crap - turns out, the new code has all these requirements to match the old code's functionality in ways we didn't expect (letters A-W).
3. Okay, so we're doing Y and Z in the rewrite, knowing it's pretty bad, because we didn't know we'd have to do A-W and now we're short on time. Oh, and parts of the code still do X.
Now, wait a year for one third of the team to leave because they're rushed, overworked, burnt out, going in a different direction... and another third to get laid off because the project went way over time and budget...
4. Previous developers did X, Y, and Z, and X, Y, and Z are bad, therefore, their code must be rewritten...
I think we're in agreement on this - if you don't have the tests, you don't know what the system does. The Michael Feathers approach is my favored path forward in these cases. Rewrites are more valuable in the small (class-level) than in the large (application-level) in the vast majority of cases. And if you absolutely need to replace an application (say, your company standardized on Oracle and Tcl and you can't hire any new developers because they laugh when you tell them your stack...) you do it piecemeal, building tests in your old system so that you can reliably replicate the functionality in a way that functions as a living, reliable spec.
sigh
True, and that's believable when it's people rewriting their own code, but sometimes you'll have people who didn't even try to understand the existing code express a desire to rewrite it.
Just as the street layout will outlive the buildings, APIs tend to be extremely durable and intolerant of destructive rewrites. Consider the Python transition.
Reading code is basically trying to reverse engineer the thinking of the programmer by looking at second order output. Of course it will be hard! It isn’t just style, nor would I say mainly just style. Continuous improvement is often just a matter of rebuilding the context that was lost with the last programmer.
Isn't that precisely what Knuth was trying to resolve when he came up with the idea of literate programming[1]? The fact that you might end up with more words than code isn't a really problem if the end result is better (for some value of 'better') than just the code.
If you work on a team a lot of your time is spent 'teaching' (explaining) your code to other developers. Or teaching yourself about it when you come back to something you wrote 6 months ago. Or 'teaching' a QA person your logic to understand where a bug is coming from. Or using your code to literally teach a concept to a junior developer.
Writing documentation can feel like teaching rather than just doing, but that's not necessarily a bad thing if you're working on something that other people need to understand.
It is my experience that you can markedly improve the speed and accuracy with which a newcomer can understand a code base with supplementary documentation of considerably fewer words than are in the code itself - so long as those words are well-chosen, and focus on the programmer's intent.
Edit. Never mind you mean afterwards. But is the assumption that design can occur independently of programming really true in practice?
It depends on the complexity of the problem you are working on. Something well understood before programming starts has a better chance of being well documented with short prose (because it is well understood, a lot of shared universal context can be relied on). There are lots of things out there that don’t meet this criteria, however.
Update: Perhaps the canonical example of non-agile trial-and-error programming without well-founded expectations is the programmer who is putting delays in various parts of his program in an attempt to fix a concurrency error.
One's understanding of the program does not necessarily break down under iterative development, as, if you are doing it right, each iteration improves your understanding.
The usefulness of documentation does depend on the complexity of the problem, but in the opposite sense: programs solving simple, well-defined problems do not benefit much from additional explanation (there's not much to say that is not obvious), but the more complex things get, the more it helps.
Of course, we can argue about different kinds of programming have different needs. Prototyping doesn’t require documentation and so can move much faster than product development, for example. The cost of not documenting is a huge win for the prototyper, allowing them to try out and throw away designs while worrying less about sunk costs.
The design has to come from somewhere, after all. A design team with prototyping resources really values those resources.
Compare that to sloppy code bases with side effects everywhere where you don't know what it's supposed to do or what it does.
Reading code also doesn't really get rewarded. It's easier to declare the work of people who aren't there anymore as bad and rewrite everything.
Now I make a living reading and maintaining code no one else will touch. Lots of companies can't afford to rewrite a mostly-working system, or they can't take the risk. I found a niche doing maintenance work and now I enjoy fixing what other programmers have said they can't maintain. Freelance maintenance work pays just as well as green-fields development and has fewer customer hassles, too.
I think that we can easily say that good code is very difficult to write and very easy to read, bad code is very easy to write and very difficult to read. The code is written once and read n times by m different people, so there is a huge gain in spending more time in making it simpler to understand rather than spending the minimum time in writing code and leave all the effort to the readers. Readers that, very often, after they become too frustrated, want to rewrite it (and for very good reasons I'd say).
I don't question your intentions or abilities, but the fact remains that a whole lot of programmers find almost every piece of code they didn't write hard to read. Or they say that -- I think they mean they just don't like the look of it, or they can imagine writing it differently.
The author is making the point that code readability is ultimately in the eye of the beholder. I've come to share the author's views, and I have to say I don't hear it said much in programming culture. At most places I've worked, there's this culture of constant refactoring under the guise of "continuous improvement," when really, if you look closely, it's really motivated out of disdain for the last developer's programming style, and in my opinion, a general aversion to reading code.
Reading code is about 10x as hard as writing it. It takes more concentration, it's less fun, it's harder, and it doesn't impress anyone. You have to know the language better than the person who wrote it, because not only do you have to understand why the code does what they intended it to, but you also have to understand why the code does other things they didn't intend (a.k.a. bugs). But in my experience, you save your team a lot more time and energy in the long run by preferring to read and understand existing code.