Three Stories about the Ghosts of Past Developers

Samuel G. Villegas
7 min readSep 20, 2023

Since the beginning of human times, mysterious energies have been manifesting to people, recently we’ve heard about these stories becoming more common in Software Teams.

At Crystal Docs we’re committed to helping improve the software development process so we have been tuning in some of the hottest conversations in the software community and establishing our grounds on how we work with our AI Models Copyright.

More and more stories about Ghosts of Past Developers haunting software engineers and tech teams, wasting their time, starting from scratch, and becoming frustrated when faced with its presence are more common daily.

These stories are real, and to prove it, here are three stories we have heard from a friend of a friend’s acquaintance that they guarantee happened:

Ghost of the Morning

The digital clock on the corner screen reads 9:30 a.m.; the silence after the first day’s meeting resounds in your ears. Staring at the screen, you feel the warm sun touching your face from the window, and sipping your lukewarm coffee, bitterness wakes your senses.

A notification from Alicia pops up:

“The payments provider stopped working. Fix ASAP. Financial losses are mounting”.

Without hesitation, you open the testing environment to replicate the error. All seemed well there, but the production environment was another story. The logs, cryptic and unyielding, offered no helpful answers. With a sigh, you pull the production branch into your local environment. While the environment is set up, you start to read the payment provider’s latest documentation.

You read a notification warning:

“Version 1.8 Deprecated. Migrate to Version 2.0. Read More.”

A realization draws on you; the code implements a deprecated version! Could this be the key to fixing the Chaos? You press Ctrl+Shift+F to find the module where the integration is implemented and realize the code is not commented. The last edit was made 2 years ago, and the engineer left the company 1 year ago. You have only heard rumors about him.

Out of nowhere, your screen turns black for a couple of seconds and then comes back. Electrical mishap? No, everything else hums undisturbed. You shrug it off and continue reading the code; you find a straightforward solution and implement it.

Happily, you send the PR and wait for the tests to run, code format reviewers, error catchers, and anything the DevOps team configured in the pipeline.

Sinking feelings arise; Only half the tests passed. Did I miss something?

The lightbulb in your lamp starts to flicker, and even though the windows are closed and the air conditioner is off, you feel a cold breeze in your neck that gives you shivers. A haunting laughter envelops the room like a whisper from a long-forgotten code. You turn around quickly to check if someone is there, but you only see your pet, sleeping comfortably.

Ghost of the Afternoon

A familiar chime comes from your computer, Albert’s name flashing across the notification:

“Are you free for a 5-minute catch-up? I promise it’s short.”

Oh, not this again; it’s never a short call, ‘Albert’s ‘five minutes’ was always a deep dive down the rabbit hole. Would this time be any different? You ask him if it’s urgent.

Albert:
“Yeah, sort of; there’s a new client Sales have been talking about for some time now, and they want us to check the codebase to provide a basic audit on what would it take to implement a new module with their current architecture”

Oof, a new client? Am I getting a bonus to work on this new project? Are they switching my focus?

“Sure, I’ll look at it and get back to you tomorrow.”

You hesitantly click on the client’s codebase link, wondering what you’ll find there. The code is in a language you know well. Confidence rising, you dive in, taking mental notes of the directory structure, file naming conventions, and the general code architecture.

Suddenly, an unsettling clang emanates from the kitchen, the sound of metal meeting ceramic; quickly, you check what’s happening and find the fridge is open. “WTF is this? Am I losing my mind? Did I leave this open?”.

The fridge’s cold air mingled with your suspicion. Was someone else there, or is your mind playing tricks on you?

Your heart starts rushing faster, and as you close the fridge, you hear a call from the computer. You run to the desk and pick up; Santiago’s voice, always brimming with energy, asks, ‘Got a moment for some huge news?’

You start to tell Santiago that something extraordinary happened, but you hear a glitchy white noise, and as if he didn’t listen to what you just said, he excitedly starts talking about how he got a new job position at a large company. You’re trying to share Santiago’s excitement, and he starts to tell you about the position, the salary, and the excellent working culture of the company. Still, a hum starts to overtake Santiago’s voice.

You tell him to speak up. You can’t understand what he’s saying. You begin to speak louder, but the intensifying hum overtakes your voice.

Santiago can’t listen to you anymore. The lights start dimming slightly.

An unexpected aroma of freshly popped popcorn fills the air — the popcorn you’d make for a movie night. The air feels electric and dense, the screen flickers, and you can only hear the increasing humming white noise emanating from the codebase.

Your trance ends, as Santiago awakens you: “Hey, are you there? Can you listen to me?”

Ghost of the Night

As you recline in the chair, the dim light from your desk lamp casts a long shadow across the room. The day’s Chaos whirls in your mind. The whispers of the afternoon about Santiago leaving still linger as you venture into the complex architecture of Albert’s new project codebase.

A new email arrives with an ERROR label reminding you Alicia’s team has yet to be able to solve the payments provider issue from this morning.

“Have I been cursed?” The thought emerges uninvited.

Quickly, you shake off these thoughts and open the email from your New Partner Company to focus on understanding their API Documentation. You open the email from them with a password, username, test URL, and PDF in plain text.

“No Backstage, Swagger, or Gitbook? Are they living in the Flintstones era?”

While your night’s tea water is boiling, you spin up a new Postman API Workspace. Input everything from their documentation and make it ready to start testing, you click on the Authentication Endpoint’s Send button and step away from your workstation to pour the boiling water into your giant teacup. The teabag in your cup begins to infuse its aroma into the whole room; you grab a couple of small cookies and return to find the API has replied with an error.

What were you expecting? That’s how software works.

Reviewing the PDF in the documentation, you realize you made a mistake on the headers and solve it swiftly; you rerun the tests and get a successful authentication token. “Great. Time to Test”.

The first four endpoints are successful, but when you reach the fifth one, the most critical for the business partnership.

The API doesn’t work as expected, and the error messages are useless. You double-check everything in the documentation, and it’s configured exactly as it explains. Swiftly, you open the shared Slack space and write to the other company’s team, explaining what happened and sending all API details. They reply quickly with a concise message.

“The documentation we sent needs to be updated. We’re working on the new version. Tomorrow I’ll send you the new information you need.”

In frustration, you let a long sigh out of your nose and sip your aromatic tea; the hot temperature warms you making you forget about your frustration. The tea tastes a bit strange today, bitter and acidic, and as soon as you notice this, you fall asleep into a dreamful trance.

A strange presence sits before you; its existence is not frightening but makes the room feel colder than usual. Murmuring starts resounding in your head, but you can’t understand what it’s saying.

You try to squint your eyes and see what it is, and you notice the presence sitting in a large chair in front of a desk with a large screen; this can’t be or can it? The recent stories from your colleagues and workers start to run through your mind as it becomes clear to you: it’s one of the Ghosts of the Past Developers, present in the codebases, the documentation, and dead chat conversations.

With stories like these popping up daily, the haunting will never stop. That’s why we’ve committed at Crystal Docs to Find a Solution to this Terrible issue affecting us.

Could Large Language Models help us solve this?

Want to learn how this story continues? Read Part 2 Here

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