Outcome-First Engineering - Code Is Not the Goal, Changing Reality Is
Outcome-First Engineering: Code Is Not the Goal; Changing Reality Is
There is a quiet tragedy happening in a lot of engineering teams.
You ask a developer, “What are you trying to achieve with this task?”
And the answer almost always comes back as code:
“I need to create a function that does X.”
“I’m trying to migrate this data from A to B.”
“I’m stuck integrating this API.”
Notice what’s missing.
No user.
No outcome.
No change in reality.
The goal became “make the code work” instead of “solve the right problem.”
The moment the objective becomes code, the problem is already lost
Most teams don’t intend to think this way.
It happens slowly.
We adopt agile.
We write user stories.
We create a “Definition of Done.”
Somewhere along the way, Done quietly replaces Solved.
- Tests are passing.
- The PR is merged.
- The ticket is in “Done.”
On paper, everything is green.
Meanwhile:
- The user still struggles with the same friction.
- Support tickets keep arriving.
- Edge cases keep exploding in production.
We “delivered the feature.”
We just didn’t change reality in the way that mattered.
That’s the core disease I want to attack.
A simple conversation that reveals everything
I’ve had this conversation many times:
“You look stuck. What’s your objective here?”
And I get answers like:
- “I’m trying to debug this error in the payment service.”
- “I need to wire this new endpoint into the frontend.”
- “I’m figuring out how to migrate this legacy field.”
All of these are valid tasks.
But none of them are real objectives.
They are descriptions of what their hands are doing, not what their mind is aiming at.
Contrast that with a different kind of answer:
- “I want to make sure customers never lose their order when the payment gateway fails.”
- “I want to cut in half the number of users who drop during onboarding.”
- “I want support to stop spending hours fixing this configuration mistake every week.”
Now we’re talking about reality.
We’re talking about outcomes.
Code is still required.
But it becomes a tool, not the target.
When Definition of Done kills Definition of Solved
Product managers love a good Definition of Done:
- Acceptance criteria met
- Tests written
- PR reviewed
- Deployed to production
All of this is useful.
We need structure.
We need agreements.
The problem is what happens inside the engineer’s head:
“If I satisfy the Definition of Done, I did my job.”
And so the mental horizon shrinks to the checklist:
- “I just need to call this API.”
- “I just need to add this field.”
- “I just need to implement this screen.”
The question “Did we actually solve the problem?” never shows up.
Or it shows up too late, when we’re already in production and users are struggling.
A system built on Done but not on Solved creates the same pattern over and over:
- We ship.
- Reality doesn’t change enough.
- We add another ticket.
- We patch.
- We complicate.
Velocity looks healthy.
The product feels heavier every month.
Code-first thinking is comfortable — and dangerous
Why do engineers gravitate to code-first thinking?
Because it’s comfortable.
Code is concrete.
You can see it.
You can run it.
You can point to a diff and say, “I did something.”
Outcomes are messy.
They live in the world of:
- human behavior
- unclear business goals
- trade-offs and ambiguity
- edge cases you haven’t discovered yet
It is much easier to say:
“My job is to implement what’s written in the ticket.”
than to say:
“My job is to understand what must change in reality and design the simplest, safest way to get there.”
But here is the uncomfortable truth:
Every time we hide behind “just implementing the ticket”, we are surrendering the actual power and responsibility of engineering.
We stop thinking like designers of systems.
We start thinking like typists with Git access.
You are not hired to move tickets. You are hired to move reality.
Let’s step back for a moment.
Why does your company pay you?
They don’t pay you to:
- write React components,
- wire NestJS controllers,
- optimize SQL queries.
Those are means.
They pay you because they want:
- fewer churned customers,
- more reliable operations,
- better decisions,
- safer systems,
- a product that actually works the way people need.
In other words: they pay you to change reality.
Code is how we encode those changes.
It is the final expression of a long chain of decisions:
- What outcome do we want?
- What behavior must change?
- What design supports that behavior?
- What code best represents that design?
Outcome → Behavior → Design → Code.
In that order.
When we invert this order and start from the bottom, we might still ship something that “works”.
But it rarely solves the right thing.
The quiet difference between average and high-level engineers
On the surface, two engineers can look very similar:
- Same languages.
- Same frameworks.
- Same number of years in the industry.
Both can write code that passes tests.
The difference is in how they think before they touch the keyboard.
- The average engineer hears a ticket and immediately starts imagining functions, tables, and endpoints.
- The high-level engineer hears a ticket and starts by reconstructing reality:
- “Who exactly is affected by this?”
- “What currently happens?”
- “What must be true after we ship?”
- “What are the failure modes we absolutely cannot allow?”
Only after that, they move down toward design and code.
From the outside, it still looks like “they wrote some code”.
But internally, the process is completely different.
One is coding.
The other is engineering.
In the next part, we’ll put a clear structure around this way of thinking.
You’ll see a simple mental model — the Outcome–Behavior–Code Ladder — that you can use every day to escape the trap of code-first thinking and become the kind of engineer who doesn’t just write software, but reshapes reality with intent.
Code Is Just the Last Mile of Changing Reality
Let’s flip the usual story on its head.
Most engineers think like this:
“I write code. That’s my job.”
I want to invite a different identity:
“I change how reality behaves. Code is just the last mile of that change.”
That’s not poetry. It’s a literal description of what good engineering does.
- Before your work, users behave one way.
- After your work, they behave differently.
- Before your work, the system fails in certain patterns.
- After your work, those failure modes are harder or impossible to reach.
The code is the visible part.
The change in reality is the real work.
A doctor doesn’t define success by prescriptions
Think about a doctor.
If you ask, “What’s your goal with this patient?” and they answer:
“My goal is to write three prescriptions and schedule two exams.”
You would feel something is very wrong.
The prescriptions are means.
The real goal is something like:
- reduce pain,
- restore mobility,
- prevent a long-term complication.
The doctor designs an outcome and chooses tools to reach it.
You, as an engineer, are closer to that than you think.
- SQL is a prescription.
- An API is a prescription.
- A migration is a prescription.
- A React component is a prescription.
They matter.
But they are not the goal.
The goal is always a concrete change in reality:
- “Fewer users losing data.”
- “Fewer support tickets for the same issue.”
- “Shorter time to complete a key task.”
- “Lower risk of this class of outage.”
Code is the last mile of that.
The real job: designing how the world should behave
When you adopt an outcome-first mindset, the sequence in your head changes.
Instead of:
Ticket → Code
You start thinking:
Outcome → Behavior → Design → Code
You start from a very simple but powerful question:
“What must be true in the real world after we ship this?”
And you sit with that for a moment.
- What should users feel?
- What should they be able to do that they couldn’t before?
- What should they stop being able to do?
- What errors should basically disappear from our logs?
Only when this is clear do you move down into system behavior and design.
Code becomes a translation step, not the birthplace of your ideas.
A small story: two ways to fix the “lost order” problem
Imagine customers are complaining:
“Sometimes, when I try to pay, the screen freezes and I don’t know if my order went through.”
Two engineers pick up a ticket to “fix the payment bug”.
The code-first engineer immediately thinks:
“The bug is in the payment service. I’ll add a retry and a new spinner on the frontend.”
The outcome-first engineer stops and reframes:
“Outcome: users should never be unsure if their order was created or not.”
That sounds similar, but it’s a very different starting point.
From there, the outcome-first engineer starts asking:
- What happens in our system before the payment call?
- When do we create the order record?
- What states can an order be in?
- How do we communicate those states to the user?
- What happens if the external gateway is slow or fails?
They might arrive at a completely different solution:
- Create the order first, with a clear pending state.
- Make payment a separate, idempotent step.
- Store enough information to show the user a clear “Your order is here, payment is still processing” screen.
- Add a safe retry mechanism in the background.
Same bug.
Same stack.
Two very different realities after shipping.
One version “makes the code work.”
The other version makes the world behave differently in a way that actually solves the problem.
Why this matters for your growth as an engineer
Here is a harsh truth:
If you define yourself as “someone who writes code that works,” you are easily replaceable.
There is always:
- a cheaper engineer somewhere,
- a bootcamp graduate,
- or eventually an AI system that can produce “working code” given a specification.
What is not easily replaceable is the ability to:
- clarify messy problems,
- see what truly needs to change in reality,
- design behavior and constraints,
- and then implement that design with care.
That’s engineering as wisdom in action, not just syntax and patterns.
Outcome-first engineers become:
- the people others trust with critical flows,
- the ones PMs want in discovery conversations,
- the ones leaders call when something really matters.
Not because they know one more framework.
But because they think differently.
“But I’m just an engineer, not a product person”
You might be thinking:
“This sounds like product management. Isn’t it their job to define outcomes?”
No.
It is their job to collaborate with you on outcomes.
Product can describe the problem space and business constraints.
Design can shape the user experience.
But when reality meets code, you are responsible for:
- what actually becomes possible,
- what becomes impossible,
- and what failure modes are introduced or removed.
You are not “just implementing.”
You are choosing:
- which states exist in the system,
- which transitions are allowed,
- which assumptions are baked into data models,
- how errors are handled or ignored.
These are not neutral decisions.
They shape reality for thousands of people.
Pretending you are “just writing code” doesn’t remove the responsibility.
It only removes your awareness of it.
Code as the echo of a deeper decision
Every line of code is an echo.
Before you wrote it, you made a decision (conscious or not) about:
- what matters,
- what doesn’t,
- what “success” means in this context,
- what trade-offs you’re willing to accept.
Outcome-first engineering simply makes those decisions explicit and intentional.
You don’t discover the goal at the end of the PR.
You start from it.
- First, you decide what reality should look like.
- Then you decide how the system must behave.
- Then you structure that behavior in a clear design.
- Then — and only then — you encode it in code.
That’s why I say:
Code is not the goal; it is the last mile of changing reality.
In the next part, we’ll make this even more concrete.
I’ll walk you through a simple mental model — the Outcome–Behavior–Code Ladder — so you can see exactly how to move from vague tickets and “just coding” to a clear, repeatable way of thinking that starts from outcomes and ends in code as an intentional consequence.
The Outcome–Behavior–Code Ladder
So how do you actually think in outcomes instead of code?
You need a ladder.
Something simple enough to hold in your head, but strong enough to guide real decisions in messy projects.
I use a mental model I call the Outcome–Behavior–Code Ladder.
It looks like this:
Outcome → Behavior → Design → Code
Most engineers live only on the last rung: Code.
Outcome-first engineers move up and down this ladder all the time.
Let’s walk through each level.
Outcome – What must be different in the real world?
This is the top of the ladder.
The question here is brutally simple:
“What must be true in reality after we ship this?”
Not in Jira.
Not in the codebase.
In reality.
That might sound like:
- “Fewer users should abandon checkout because of confusing errors.”
- “Support should stop spending two hours a day fixing the same configuration issue.”
- “Traders should get their results within 5 seconds, not 30.”
An outcome is measurable or at least observable.
You could bring someone from outside the team, show them before and after, and they would see the difference.
If you cannot describe the outcome clearly, you are already operating blind.
You are choosing tools without a diagnosis.
At this level, you’re not thinking about APIs, databases, queues, or UI components.
You are thinking about:
- people,
- their behavior,
- their pain,
- their environment.
You are deciding which part of reality you want to move.
Behavior – How must the system behave to support that outcome?
Once you know what must change in reality, you move one level down:
“How must the system behave so that this outcome is possible and reliable?”
Here you are not yet writing code.
You are describing rules and flows.
For example:
- “If the payment provider is slow, the user should still see a clear state for their order.”
- “If a user tries to do X, they should never be able to reach invalid state Y.”
- “If this external service fails three times, we should give up gracefully and notify the user.”
You’re defining:
- what the system allows,
- what it forbids,
- how it recovers,
- which paths are happy and which are error paths.
Think of this level as choreography.
You are deciding how the system dances when real life kicks it in different ways.
Good engineers spend a lot of time here.
They imagine:
- success flows,
- failure flows,
- weird edge cases,
- concurrency issues,
- timing details.
Because they know: if the behaviors are wrong, the code will be wrong, even if it “works”.
Design – What is the simplest model that can produce that behavior?
Once the behavior is clear, you move down another rung:
“What is the simplest design that can make this behavior real?”
Here you are thinking in concepts:
- entities,
- aggregates,
- boundaries,
- invariants,
- interfaces.
You ask questions like:
- “What are the real concepts in this domain? Order, PaymentAttempt, Invoice, Subscription?”
- “What states can they be in? Which transitions are allowed?”
- “What can talk to what? Where do we cut responsibilities?”
- “What needs to be transactional? What can be eventual?”
You’re shaping the mental model of the system.
This is where good naming, proper boundaries, and clear invariants live.
Design is the bridge between abstract behavior and concrete code.
If you skip this level, you usually pay the price later:
- leaky abstractions,
- weird coupling,
- “we can’t change this without touching everything.”
Outcome-first engineers are ruthless here.
They look for the simplest design that faithfully produces the behavior needed for the outcome.
Not the most clever design.
The clearest one.
Code – How do we encode this design?
Only now do you reach the bottom of the ladder:
“Given this design, what code best encodes it?”
This is where most engineers start.
Outcome-first engineers deliberately arrive here later.
Now questions like these finally make sense:
- “What functions do we need?”
- “What should the API look like?”
- “How do we model this table or document?”
- “What events do we emit?”
- “What tests guarantee behavior X and forbid behavior Y?”
The difference is subtle but huge:
You are not inventing code from a vague ticket.
You are translating a clear design, that comes from clear behaviors, that come from a clear outcome.
Code becomes a faithful representation of decisions you already made.
You are not discovering the goal while you write.
You are implementing the goal.
Why starting at the bottom breaks everything
Most teams live like this:
- A ticket arrives with some acceptance criteria.
- The engineer immediately drops into the Code level.
- Behavior and Design are implicit, fuzzy, or left to “we’ll see”.
What happens?
- We end up with behaviors nobody consciously chose.
- We bake in weird edge cases just because “that’s how we hacked it at the time.”
- We implement something that passes tests but doesn’t really advance the outcome.
It’s like building a house by starting with random walls because someone said:
“We need three rooms and two windows.”
No blueprint.
No structural plan.
Just hammers and bricks.
It might stay up.
But you probably won’t want to live in it.
Climbing the ladder in real life
You don’t need a big ceremony to use this ladder.
You can apply it quietly in your own head.
Before you touch the keyboard, ask yourself:
- Outcome: “What must be different in the real world?”
- Behavior: “How must the system act so this is reliably true?”
- Design: “What is the simplest model that produces that behavior?”
- Code: “How do I encode that model in a clear, testable way?”
If your brain jumps straight to:
“I need to add a field to this table and call this service…”
Pause.
Force yourself to climb at least two levels up:
- “Wait. What outcome am I serving?”
- “What behavior am I actually trying to change?”
You will be surprised how often the code you were about to write…
was not the code you actually needed.
In the next part, we’ll look at concrete stories where two engineers faced the same problem:
- one stayed at the code level,
- the other climbed the Outcome–Behavior–Code Ladder.
You’ll see how this simple way of thinking leads to radically different decisions, and why outcome-first engineers quietly become the people everyone trusts when it really matters.
How Outcome-First Engineers Think Differently
Let me show you what this looks like in real life.
Three stories.
Same kind of problems.
Completely different way of thinking.
Story 1 — “I’m stuck integrating this API”
A developer once came to me clearly frustrated.
“I’m stuck. This external API is awful. The docs are confusing, the responses are inconsistent. I’ve tried three times and it keeps failing in weird ways.”
I asked the question I always ask:
“What is your objective?”
The answer came fast:
“Integrate this API so we can send the data.”
That sounds reasonable.
But notice: the goal is the code.
So I pushed:
“No. What is your real objective in the product? If this task didn’t exist as a ticket, what are we actually trying to change in reality?”
He paused.
Silence.
Then slowly:
“We want users to see updated data from this partner… so they can make better decisions without leaving our platform.”
Now we were on the top of the ladder: Outcome.
We started to explore Behavior:
- Do users really need real-time updates?
- Is it okay if the data is a few minutes old?
- What happens if the partner is down?
- What should users see in that case?
Suddenly, the problem changed shape.
We realized we didn’t need a fragile, synchronous, request-per-user integration at all.
Instead, we designed:
- a background job that pulls data in batches,
- a cache with a freshness window,
- clear UI states: “updated 2 minutes ago”, “temporarily unavailable”.
The integration became simpler, more reliable, and far easier to debug.
The developer’s initial goal was: “Make this API call work.”
The new goal was: “Ensure users can trust the data they see, even when the partner is unstable.”
Same feature on the surface.
Different reality underneath.
That’s Outcome–Behavior–Code in action.
Story 2 — The migration that never needed to happen
In another team, a developer picked up a ticket:
“Migrate all historical orders from table A to new table B with new structure.”
The task was big.
Millions of records.
Risk of downtime.
Endless edge cases.
He had already spent days designing a complex migration strategy.
Again, the same question:
“What is your objective?”
The answer:
“Move the data from the old table to the new one.”
On the surface, true.
On the ladder, still stuck at Code.
So we stepped up:
“Forget the migration for a second. Why do we want this new table? What must be true in reality after this change?”
We talked.
After a few minutes, it became clear:
- The real outcome was:
“We want accurate, consistent reporting for revenue per product over time.”
That’s it.
The business didn’t care about tables.
They cared about understanding revenue.
Once we held that outcome, we moved to Behavior:
- What queries do we actually run?
- How often?
- Who uses them?
- What level of accuracy is required?
- Do we need historical changes to be reflected exactly as they were at the time?
With that clarity, a completely different option appeared:
- Keep the old table as-is.
- Build a new, smaller read model specifically for reporting.
- Backfill only the necessary aggregated data.
- Use a background job to keep it up to date.
No massive migration.
No risky downtime.
No weeks of engineering effort.
The original “solution” was born from starting at the bottom of the ladder.
The better solution came when we started from the top.
Story 3 — The feature that was over-specified
One of my favorite patterns is what happens when engineers enter early in product discussions with an outcome-first mindset.
A PM brought a very detailed user story:
- Full UI mockups.
- Precise field names.
- Suggested technical approach.
The ticket basically said:
“Add this new screen. Call this service. Store this data here. Show these exact fields in this exact way.”
A code-first engineer would think:
“Okay, I just implement this. Let’s estimate the effort.”
An outcome-first engineer asked a different first question:
“Before we talk about screens and fields… if this feature is a success, what changes in reality for the user? And for the business?”
The PM answered:
“We want support to stop chasing users to complete missing information. They should proactively see what’s missing and fix it themselves.”
Now we had the Outcome.
We then asked:
- In which moments do users actually notice missing information?
- Do they really need a full new screen?
- Could this be solved inside existing flows?
- What are the most common missing pieces?
- How many users are affected?
By the end of the conversation, the solution was smaller and sharper:
- No new standalone page.
- Instead, inline prompts in existing flows where users already had context.
- A simple notification mechanism guiding them straight to what was missing.
- A minimal backend change to track “completion state” per user.
Less code.
Less UI complexity.
More impact on the actual outcome.
Here is the key:
The PM didn’t resist this.
They appreciated it.
Because someone helped them move from “designing a feature” to “designing an outcome”.
When engineers show up like this, they stop being “ticket takers” and become partners in shaping reality.
The pattern behind all these stories
In every story, something subtle but powerful happened:
- The first answer to “What is your objective?” was code.
- The real answer was outcome.
Once we pulled the conversation up to the top of the ladder, everything changed:
- New options appeared.
- Some “hard problems” disappeared.
- The amount of code went down.
- The impact went up.
Outcome-first engineers are not magicians.
They are simply unwilling to accept “write this code” as a real objective.
They keep asking:
“What must be true when this is actually solved?”
Then they walk down the ladder, one level at a time, until code is the obvious last step.
In the next part, we’ll turn this into a practical routine.
You’ll see how to practice Outcome-First Engineering in your daily work, even if nobody else on your team is doing it yet — starting with the questions you ask yourself before you write a single line of code.
How to Practice Outcome-First Engineering Daily
Let’s make this practical.
You don’t need a new process framework.
You don’t need permission from your manager.
You don’t need a workshop.
You need a different way to start every task.
Here’s a simple playbook you can apply quietly in your own work.
1. Rewrite every task as an outcome
Before you write code, rewrite the ticket in your own words.
Not in terms of “what to build”.
In terms of “what must change in reality”.
Take a typical story:
“Add a new field to the profile screen so users can set their timezone.”
Code-first objective:
“I need to add a timezone field, save it to the DB, and display it.”
Outcome-first rewrite:
“Users in different regions should see times that actually match their local reality, so they stop getting confused and missing events.”
Feel the difference.
Same ticket.
Different mission.
When you rewrite the task like this:
- You remember who you’re serving.
- You see why this matters.
- You open space to question how to solve it.
Sometimes you’ll realize the original solution is fine.
Sometimes you’ll see a better, simpler path.
Make this a habit:
Before you start a task, write one or two sentences:
“The outcome I’m aiming for is: …”
Keep it visible while you work.
2. Never stay on the bottom rung of the ladder
If your “goal” sounds like code, you’re too low.
- “I need to add this endpoint.”
- “I need to hook this up to Kafka.”
- “I need to refactor this service.”
When you catch yourself there, climb.
Ask yourself two questions:
- “What behavior am I trying to change in the system?”
- “What outcome does that behavior enable for users or the business?”
Write the answers down.
Example:
“I need to add retries to this API call.”
Climb:
- Behavior: “The system should automatically retry transient failures a few times before giving up, instead of failing immediately.”
- Outcome: “Users should stop seeing random error messages just because the partner service had a temporary hiccup.”
Now your implementation decisions will be different:
- How many retries?
- Over what time?
- What counts as “transient”?
- What do we log?
- What does the user see?
Two questions.
Huge shift in thinking.
3. Speak in outcomes during standups and updates
This one is subtle, but powerful.
Most engineers talk like this in standup:
“Yesterday I refactored the payment service and started integrating the new API. Today I’ll work on the webhook handling.”
That’s all Code level.
Try changing your language:
“I’m working on making sure users never lose an order when the payment provider is slow. For that, I’m changing how we create orders and handle webhooks.”
Same work.
Different framing.
Why does this matter?
- You train your own brain to think in outcomes.
- You invite your team to challenge or improve the behavior and design.
- You make it easier for PMs and leaders to see your real impact.
If you consistently speak this way, people will notice:
“This person really understands what we’re trying to achieve.”
That’s how reputations are built.
4. Add “Definition of Solved” next to “Definition of Done”
Definition of Done is about completion:
- Code merged
- Tests passing
- Deployed
- Tracked
Definition of Solved is about reality:
“What must be true in production for us to say this is genuinely solved?”
For each task, write a short Definition of Solved:
- “Support tickets about X should drop significantly.”
- “Users should no longer reach invalid state Y.”
- “Logs for error Z should go close to zero.”
Then ask:
- “What do we need to log to verify this?”
- “What do we need to measure?”
- “What tests ensure this behavior persists?”
Suddenly, monitoring and observability are not “nice extras”.
They become part of solving the problem.
You’re designing reality, not just shipping code.
5. Run tiny postmortems on your own features
Not big meetings.
Not formal documents.
Just 5–10 minutes of honest reflection after something ships.
Ask yourself:
- “Did this actually produce the outcome I expected?”
- “What surprised us in reality?”
- “Where did we jump to code too early?”
- “Which rung of the ladder did we skip?”
Write a few bullets.
This is where you really grow.
Over time you’ll notice patterns:
- types of assumptions you often get wrong,
- edge cases you tend to forget,
- parts of the ladder you skip when you’re stressed.
Every small reflection is a deposit in your thinking capital.
You are not just gaining experience.
You are learning how to aim your experience better.
6. Make questions your main debugging tool for reality
Outcome-first engineering requires humility.
You must be willing to admit:
“I don’t fully understand this yet — and that’s exactly why I need to ask.”
I believe this deeply:
There are no stupid questions.
What’s really dangerous is not asking questions.
For every meaningful task, commit to asking at least one question that clarifies the outcome or behavior.
Questions like:
- “What would success look like for this feature in three months?”
- “What’s the worst thing that could happen if we get this wrong?”
- “Is there a simpler way to achieve the same outcome?”
- “Do users really need this to be real-time, or is ‘fresh enough’ okay?”
You’ll be surprised how often:
- the PM didn’t think of that edge case,
- the requirement isn’t actually that strict,
- the problem can be solved with half the code.
You’re not being annoying.
You’re honoring the responsibility of changing reality with intention.
7. Lead by example, even if you’re not “the leader”
You might be thinking:
“This is great, but my team doesn’t think this way.”
That’s fine.
Every culture shift starts with one person who behaves differently.
You don’t need a title to lead.
You can:
- Rewrite your own tickets as outcomes.
- Speak in outcomes in standup.
- Ask better questions in grooming.
- Propose simpler designs that still hit the outcome.
- Share short notes on “what we actually solved” after a release.
Over time, people will start copying the language you use.
They’ll ask you for help on tricky problems.
They’ll pull you into earlier conversations.
Why?
Because Outcome-First Engineering makes you:
- safer to trust,
- easier to collaborate with,
- and much more likely to solve the right problem on the first try.
You don’t become an outcome-first engineer in one big leap.
You become one decision at a time:
- one rewritten ticket,
- one better question,
- one small reflection,
- one deliberate climb up the ladder.
In the next part, we’ll look at the frictions and objections you’ll face — inside your own mind and inside your company — and how to keep this way of thinking alive even when everything around you is screaming, “Just ship something that works.”
Objections and Frictions: Why Engineers Resist Outcome-First Thinking
By now, part of you is probably nodding.
Another part is quietly rebelling.
That’s normal.
Changing how you think is uncomfortable.
You’re not just adopting a new technique.
You’re changing how you see your own role.
Let’s bring those frictions to the surface and deal with them honestly.
“Isn’t this product’s job, not mine?”
One of the first reactions is:
“This sounds like product management. My job is to code.”
I understand where that comes from.
In many companies, the story is:
- Product owns the “why” and “what”.
- Engineering owns the “how”.
The problem is that reality doesn’t respect that clean separation.
When you design data models, APIs, workflows, and constraints, you are making product decisions in code:
- deciding what’s easy and what’s hard,
- what’s possible and what’s impossible,
- what is safe and what is fragile.
You can’t escape that responsibility by saying, “I’m just implementing.”
The truth is:
- Yes, product should bring context, goals, and constraints.
- And yes, engineering must still think in outcomes, because we’re the ones who translate those goals into actual behavior.
Outcome-first thinking is not about taking product’s job.
It’s about doing your job fully.
You’re not overriding the “why”.
You’re aligning the “how” with it.
“We don’t have time for this; everything is urgent”
Another common friction:
“This is nice in theory, but we have pressure, deadlines, and too much to do. We don’t have time to go that deep.”
On the surface, that feels true.
In the short term, it is faster to:
- read the ticket once,
- assume you understood,
- start hammering out code.
But here is the hidden cost:
Every misunderstanding you don’t catch at the start
comes back as:
- rework,
- confusion,
- extra meetings,
- production issues,
- follow-up tickets to “fix what we just shipped.”
You don’t save time by skipping outcomes.
You borrow time from the future at very high interest.
Outcome-first engineering is not about adding a week of analysis to every task.
Most of the time, it’s about adding:
- 10 minutes of better questions,
- 5 minutes of rewriting the objective,
- 2 minutes of clarifying an assumption.
It’s not “heavy process”.
It’s a small pause to aim before pulling the trigger.
You’re not slowing down.
You’re choosing to suffer once, instead of suffering five times for the same problem.
“I’m not that kind of engineer”
This one is internal:
“I’m not strategic or product-minded. I’m a builder. I just like to code.”
I’ve heard this many times, especially from very talented people.
Two things to notice here:
First, this is not about being “strategic” in some corporate sense.
It’s about being honest and precise about what you’re doing.
You already know how to:
- model systems,
- reason about edge cases,
- think through consequences.
Outcome-first thinking just moves that same skill one level up:
- from “what does this function do?”
- to “what does this function make true in the real world?”
Second, this is a story you’re telling yourself.
Nobody is born “product-minded”.
You become outcome-minded by practicing:
- asking better questions,
- refusing to accept “code” as your real objective,
- reflecting after you ship.
You don’t need to turn into a PM.
You just need to stop being blind to the impact of your own work.
“If I ask questions, I’ll look incompetent or difficult”
This is a quiet fear:
“If I ask basic questions about the problem, people will think I don’t understand. I’ll slow everything down. I’ll be the annoying one.”
So you stay silent.
You implement.
You hope for the best.
I prefer a different principle:
- The dangerous engineer is not the one who asks questions.
- The dangerous engineer is the one who pretends to understand and ships anyway.
You don’t lose respect by asking sincere, thoughtful questions.
You gain it.
There is a huge difference between:
“I don’t get anything, what do you want me to do?”
and:
“I understand the ticket, but I want to make sure I’m aiming at the right outcome. What exactly needs to be true in three months for this to be considered a success?”
One sounds like helplessness.
The other sounds like ownership.
Good leaders and good PMs recognize that.
And if someone truly punishes you for trying to understand the problem better, that says more about their maturity than yours.
“My company only cares about throughput”
Sometimes the friction is external:
“All this is nice, but my company only cares about tickets closed and features shipped. They won’t value this way of thinking.”
Let’s be honest: some environments are immature.
They:
- worship “velocity”
- celebrate heroics over prevention
- never look at the cost of rework
- rarely ask if features actually solved anything
But even in those environments, two things are true:
- Reality still responds better to outcomes than to checklists.
- You still have influence over how you work.
You may not be able to change your KPIs tomorrow.
But you can change:
- your own language,
- your own questions,
- your own designs,
- your own standards.
And here is a pattern I’ve seen:
- Outcome-first engineers become the ones leaders call when something is burning.
- They become the ones people trust with critical paths, migrations, and refactors.
- They become the people you “just know” will get it right the first time.
Even in output-obsessed cultures, people recognize:
“This person actually understands what we’re doing.”
That becomes your personal reputation, independent of the company’s current level of maturity.
“I’m still junior; this is not my place”
Another quiet story:
“I’m early in my career. My job is to learn the stack and implement. Thinking in outcomes is for seniors.”
The irony is that juniors who adopt outcome-first thinking grow much faster.
You don’t need years of experience to ask:
- “Who is this for?”
- “What changes in their life?”
- “What behavior must the system have?”
- “What would ‘solved’ look like?”
In fact, being junior can be an advantage:
- You are less attached to “how we’ve always done it.”
- You are more open to asking fundamental questions.
- You are still forming your habits.
If you wire your brain early to think in outcomes, every year of experience will compound on top of that.
You won’t just become “a senior who writes code”.
You’ll become “a senior who designs the right thing”.
Facing the discomfort is part of the work
Outcome-first engineering will sometimes feel heavier than “just coding”.
You will:
- sit longer with ambiguity,
- admit more often that you don’t fully understand yet,
- challenge specifications that seem “good enough”.
That discomfort is not a bug.
It is part of the calling.
You are choosing a harder path in the short term,
to avoid a much harder path in the long term.
And you are choosing a more honest path:
- seeing your work not as “moving tickets”,
- but as shaping reality with responsibility and care.
In the final part, we’ll bring everything together.
We’ll close with a reframing that you can carry with you:
A simple way to remember, in one sentence, what it really means to be an outcome-first engineer — so you don’t get lost again in the noise of “just ship something that works.”
From Ticket Machines to Designers of Reality
Let’s zoom out.
If you’ve ever felt like “just an executor”, there’s a reason.
Most systems around you are designed to turn engineers into ticket machines:
- A board of tasks.
- A list of acceptance criteria.
- A pressure to keep things moving.
You pick a ticket.
You implement.
You move it to Done.
Repeat.
You can spend years like this.
Busy. Delivering. Tired.
But not really building anything that feels meaningful.
Outcome-First Engineering is a decision to step out of that script.
It is you saying, quietly but firmly:
“I am not here just to move tasks.
I am here to move reality.”
Remember what your work actually does
Every line of code is connected to a person you will probably never meet:
- someone trying to finish a task after a long day,
- someone relying on your system for their income,
- someone trying not to feel stupid in front of a complicated interface.
When you think in outcomes first, you keep that person in view.
You don’t just:
- “add a field”,
- “call an API”,
- “split a service”.
You:
- remove friction from their day,
- protect them from failure modes,
- give them clarity instead of confusion.
That’s what you’re really building.
The rest is just syntax.
The identity shift
At the deepest level, this is not about frameworks or processes.
It’s about identity.
You can see yourself as:
“I’m a developer. I take tickets and write code that works.”
Or you can see yourself as:
“I’m an engineer. I design how this system shapes reality, and I use code as my way to do that with precision.”
The work on your screen might look similar.
The person doing it is not.
One is surviving the sprint.
The other is building something with intent.
A simple way to not forget
Next time you start a task, try this small ritual:
- Read the ticket.
- Close your eyes for five seconds.
- Ask: “When this is truly solved, what will be different in the real world?”
- Write that answer in one or two sentences.
- Keep it in front of you while you design and code.
It will feel small.
But it will quietly change everything:
- the questions you ask,
- the edge cases you consider,
- the design choices you make,
- the pride you feel when you ship.
Because you’re not just “shipping features” anymore.
You’re shaping outcomes.
The line to carry with you
If you remember nothing else from this article, remember this:
You are not here to move tickets from left to right.
You are here to move reality from “broken” to “better”. Code is just the last mile.
That is Outcome-First Engineering.
And that is the kind of engineer people remember, trust, and want to follow.
Best,
Linecker Amorim