Got opinions on observability? I could use your help (once more, with feeling)

Last month I dropped a desperate little plea for help in this space, asking people to email me any good advice and/or strong opinions they happened to have on the topic of buying software.

I wasn’t really sure what to expect — desperate times, desperate measures — but holy crap, you guys delivered. To the many people who took the time to write up your experiences and expertise for me, and suffer through rounds of questions and drafts: ✨thank you✨. And thank you, too, to those of you who forwarded my queries along to experts in your network and asked for help on my behalf.

I learned a LOT about buying software and managing vendor relationships in the process of writing this. Honestly, this chapter is shaping up to be one of the things I’m most excited about for the second edition of the book.

Why I’m excited about the software buying chapter (& you should be too)

I’m imagining you reading this with a skeptical expression and an arched eyebrow. “Really, Charity…‘how to buy software’ doesn’t exactly suggest peak engineering prowess.”

Au contraire, my friends. I’ve come to believe that vendor engineering is one of the subtlest and most powerful practical applications of deep subject matter expertise, and some of the highest leverage work an engineer can do. How often do you get to make decisions that leverage the labor of hundreds or thousands of engineers per year, for fractions of pennies on the dollar? How many of the decisions you make will have an impact on every single engineer you work with and their ability to do their jobs well, as well as the experience of every single customer?

If you think I’m hyperventilating a bit, nah; this is entry level shit. In the book, I tell the story of the best engineer I ever worked with, and how I watched him alter the trajectory of multiple other companies, none of which he was working for, buying from, or formally connected to in any way — in the space of a few conversations. It upended my entire worldview about what it can look like for an engineer to wield great power.

Doing this stuff well takes both technical depth and technical breadth, in addition to systems thinking and knowledge of the business. It is one of the only ways a staff+ engineer can acquire and develop executive-level communication, strategy, and execution skills while remaining an individual contributor.

I’ve been wanting to write about this for YEARS. Anyway — ergh! — I’m rambling now. That was not what I came here to talk about, I’m just excited. Back to the point.

My second (and final) round of questions

I got so much out of your thoughtful responses that I thought I’d press my luck and put a few more questions out to the universe, before it’s too late.

These questions speak to areas where I worry that my writing may be a little weak or uninformed, or too far away from the world where people are using the “three pillars” model (aka multiple pillars or o11y 1.0) and happy about it. I don’t know many (any??) of those people, which suggests some pretty heavy selection bias.

I don’t expect anyone to answer all the questions; if one or two resonate with you, write about those and ignore the rest. If there’s something I didn’t ask that I should have asked, answer that. Something I’ve written in the past that bugged you that you hope I won’t say again? Tell me! We are almost out of time ⌛ so gimme what you got. 🙌

On migrations:

📈 Have you ever migrated from one observability vendor to another? If so, what did you learn? What was the hardest part, what took you by surprise? What do you wish you could go back in time and tell your self at the start?

📈 If you ran (or were involved in) a large scale migration or tool change… how did you structure the process? Like, was it team by team, service by service, product by product? Did you have a playbook? What did you do to make it fun or push through organizational inertia? How long did it take?

On managing costs for the traditional three pillars:

📈 For orgs that are using Datadog, Grafana, Chronosphere, or another traditional three pillars architecture.. How would you describe your approach to cutting and controlling costs? Pro tips and/or comprehensive strategy.

📈 Alternately, if there are particular blog posts with advice you have followed and can personally vouch for, would you send me a link?

📈 How do you guide your software engineers on which data to send to which place — metrics, logs, traces, errors/exceptions, profiling, etc? How do you manage cardinality? How do you work to keep the pillars in sync, or are there any particular tips and tricks you have for linking / jumping between the data sources?

📈 How many ongoing engineering cycles does it take to manage and maintain costs, once you’ve gotten them to a sustainable place?

On managing costs at massive scale:

(Especially for people who work at a large enterprise, the kind with multiple business units, but others welcome too!):

  • Do you use tiers of service for managing costs? How do you define those?
  • How do new tools get taken for a spin? (Like, sometimes there is an office of the CTO with carte blanche to try new things and evaluate them for the rest of the org)
  • How do you use telemetry pipelines?

Observability teams (quick poll):

📈 If you have an observability team, how big is it? What part of the org does it report up into? Roughly how many engineers does that team support?

📈 If you don’t have an observability team — and you have more than, say, 300 engineers — who owns observability? Platform? SRE? Other?

A grab bag:

📈 Build vs Buy: If you built your own observability tool(s)…. What were the reasons? What does it do? Would you make the same decision today?

📈 OpenTelemetry: If your team has weighed the pros and cons of adopting OTel and ultimately decided not to, for technical or philosophical reasons (i.e. not just “we’re too busy”) — what are those reasons?

📈 Instrumentation: what do you do to try and remove cognitive overhead for engineers? How much have you been able to make automatic and magical, and where has the magic failed?

📈 Consolidation: I would love to hear any thoughts on tool consolidation vs tool proliferation. Is this primarily driven by execs, or do technical users care too? Is it driven by cost concerns, usability, or something else?

edited on 2025-10-15 to add… oh crap, one last question:

📈 Open source: Are you using open source observability tools, and if so, are these your primary tools or one piece of a comprehensive tooling strategy? If the latter, could you describe that strategy for me?

Send it to me in an email

Please send me your opinions or answers in an email, to my first name at honeycomb dot io, with the subject line “Observability questions”.

If I end up cribbing from your material, it okay for me to print your name? (As in, “thanks to the people who informed my thinking on this subject, abc xyz etc”). I will not mention your employer or where you work, don’t worry.

If you send it to me more than a week from now, I probably won’t be able to use it. Augh, I wish I had thought of this in JUNE!!! #ragrets

✨THANK YOU✨

I know this is an incredibly time consuming thing to ask of someone, and I can’t express how much I appreciate your help.

P.S. Yes, the title is absolutely a reference to the Buffy musical. Hey, I had to give you guys something fun to read along with my second bleg in less than a month (do people still say “bleg”??).

6 Musical Episodes of TV Shows That Deserve an Encore

P.P.S. Grammar quiz of the day: should my title read “opinions ABOUT observability” or “opinions ON observability” ??

GREAT QUESTION — and, as it turns out, the preposition you choose may reveal more than you realized.

“About” is used to introduce a topic or subject in a broad, vague, or approximate sense, while “on” is used to signal more detailed, specific, formal or serious subject matter (as well as physical objects). “Let’s talk about dinner” vs “she delivered a lecture on why AI is trying to kill babies.”

Or as Xander says, “To read makes our English speaking good.”

The earth is doomed,
~charity

Got opinions on observability? I could use your help (once more, with feeling)

Are you an experienced software buyer? I could use some help.

If it seems like I’ve been relatively quiet lately on social media and my blog, that’s because I have. Liz, Austin, George and I have been busy toiling away on the second edition of “Observability Engineering” ever since April or May. I personally have been trying to spend 75-80% of my time on the book since May.

Have I been successful in that attempt? No. But I’m trying. Progress is being made. Hopefully just a few more weeks of drafting and we’ll be on to edits, and on to your grubby little paws by May-ish.

The world has changed A LOT since we wrote the first edition, in 2019-2022. Do you know, the phrase “observability engineering teams” doesn’t even occur in the first edition of the book? Try and search — it can’t be found! Even the phrase “observability teams” doesn’t pop up til near the end, and when it does, we are referring to those few teams that choose to build their own observability tools from scratch.

These days, observability engineering teams are everywhere. Which is why we are adding a whole new section, a sizable one, called “Observability Governance.” The governance section will have a bunch of chapters on topics like how to staff these teams, where they should fit in the org chart, how to buy good tools, how to integrate them, how to manage costs, how to make the business case up the chain to senior execs, how to manage schemas and semantic conventions at scale, and much much more.

The problem

The problem is, I’ve never really bought software. Not like this. I’ve never even worked at a  truly large, software-buying enterprise tech company. So I am not well equipped to give good advice on questions like:

  • How do you shop around for options?
  • What are some signs you may need to suck it up and change vendors?
  • What does a good POC (proof of concept) look like?
  • Who are your stakeholders? What are their concerns?
  • How do you drive consensus when millions of dollars (and the work experience of thousands of engineers) are on the line? What does ‘consensus’ even mean in that context?
  • What are the primary considerations should you take into account when making a decision? What are secondary considerations?

I’m looking for the kind of advice that a principal engineer who has done this many times might give a staff engineer who is doing it for the first time. Or that a VP who’s done this many times might give a director who is doing it for the first time.

Can you help?

This is me wearing Leia buns and projecting a unicorn-shaped rainbow bat signal out into the sky for help. Do you have any advice for me? What guidance would you give to the readers of the second edition of this book?

Please send your advice to me in an email, addressed to my first name at honeycomb dot io, with the subject line: “Buying Software”. Include any relevant context about how large the company or engineering org is, and what your role in purchasing was.

I may respond with more questions, or reply and ask if you are able to talk synchronously. But I will not quote anything you send me without first asking your permission and getting a signed release. I will not mention ANY vendors by name, good or bad.

I am not fishing for honeycomb customers or buyers, I assume most of you haven’t tried honeycomb and don’t care about it and that is fine. This is not a Honeycomb project, this is an O’Reilly writing project. I just want to gather up some good advice on buying software and funnel it back out to good engineers.

Can you help? Your industry needs you! <3

 

 

Are you an experienced software buyer? I could use some help.

On Writing, Social Media, and Finding the Line of Embarrassment

Brace yourself, because I’m about to utter a sequence of words I never thought I would hear myself say:

I really miss posting on Twitter.

I really, really miss it.

It’s funny, because Twitter was never not a trash fire. There was never a time when it felt like we were living through some kind of hallowed golden age of Twitter. I always felt a little embarrassed about the amount of time I spent posting.

Or maybe you only ever really see golden ages in hindsight.

I joined Twitter in 2009, and was an intermittent user for years. But it was after we started working on Honeycomb that Twitter became a lifeline, a job, a huge part of my everyday life.

Without Twitter, there would be no Honeycomb

Every day I would leave the house, look down at my phone, and start pecking out tweets as I walked to work. I turned out these mammoth threads about instrumentation, cardinality, storage engines, etc. Whatever was on my mind that day, it fed into Twitter.

In retrospect, I now realize that I was doing things like “outbounding” and “product marketing” and “category creation”, but at the time it felt more like oxygen.

Working out complex technical concepts in public, in real time, seeing what resonated, batting ideas back and forth with so many other smart, interesting people online…it was heady shit.

In the early days, we actually thought that Honeycomb-style observability (high cardinality, slice-and-dice, explorability, etc) was something only super large, multi-tenant platforms would ever care about or be willing to pay for. It was the conversations we were having on Twitter, the intensity of people’s reactions, that made us realize that no, actually; this was fast becoming an everybody problem.

Twitter was my most reliable source of dopamine

It’s impossible to talk about Twitter’s impact on my life and career without also acknowledging the ways I used it to self-medicate.

My ADHD was unmanaged, unmedicated, and unknown to me in those years. In retrospect, I can see that my only tool as an engineer was hyperfocus, and I rode that horse into the ground. When I unexpectedly became CEO, my job splintered into a million little bite sized chunks of time, and hyperfocus was no longer available to me. The tools I did have were Twitter and sleep deprivation.

Lack of sleep, it turns out, can wind me down and help me focus. If I’ve been awake for over 24 hours, I can buckle down and force myself to grind through things like email, expense reports, or writing marketing copy. Sleep deprivation is not pleasant, it’s actually really fucking painful, but it works. So I did it. From 2016 to 2020, I slept only once every two or three days. (People always think I am exaggerating when I say this, but people closer to me know that this is probably an understatement.)

But Twitter, you dear, dysfunctional hellsite… Twitter could wind me up.

I would go for a walk, pound out a fifty-tweet thread, and arrive at my destination feeling all revved up.

I picked fights, I argued. I was combative and aggressive in public, and I loved it. I regret some of it now; I burned some good relationships, and I burned out my adrenal glands. But I would sit down at my desk feeling high on dopamine, and I could channel that high into focus. It’s the only way I got shit done.

I got my ADHD diagnosis in 2020 (thank the gods). Since then I’ve done medication, coaching, therapy in several modalities, cats… I’ve tried it all, and a lot of it has helped. I sleep every single night now.

That world is gone, and it’s not coming back

The social media landscape has fragmented, and maybe that’s a good thing. There is nothing today that scratches the same itch for me as Twitter did, in its golden years. And maybe I don’t need it in quite the same way as I used to.

Most of the people I used to love talking with on X seem to have abandoned it to the fascists. LinkedIn is performatively corporate and has no soul. I’m still on Bluesky, but it’s a bit of an echo chamber and people mostly talk about politics; that is not what I go to social media for. The noisy, combative tech scene I loved doesn’t really seem to exist anymore.

These days I use social media less than ever, but I am learning that my writing is more important to me than ever. Which is forcing me to reckon with the fact that my writing process may no longer fit or serve the function I need it to.

Most of those epic threads I put so much time and energy into crafting have vanished into the ether. The few that I bothered to convert into essay format are the only ones that have endured.

I’ve been writing in public for ten years now

Do you ever hear yourself say something, causing you to pause, surprised: “I guess that’s a thing I believe”?

A couple months ago, Cynthia Dunlop asked me to share any thoughts I might have on my writing, as part of the promotional tour for “Writing for Developers: Blogs That Get Read” (p.s., great book!). I wrote back:

There are very few things in life that I am prouder of than the body of writing I have developed over the past 10 years.

When I look back over things I have written, I feel like I can see myself growing up, my mental health improving, I’m getting better at taking the long view, being more empathetic, being less reactive… I’ve never graduated from anything in my life, so to me, my writing kind of externalizes the progress I’ve made as a human being. It’s meaningful to me.

Huh. Turns out that’s a thing I believe. 🤔

I wrote my first post on this site in December of 2015. It’s crazy to look back on all the different things I have written about here over the past ten years — book reviews, boba recipes, technology, management, startup life, and more.

Even more mindblowing is when I look at my drafts folder, my notes folders. The hundreds of ideas or pieces I wanted to write about, or started writing about, but never found the time to polish or finish. Whuf.

I need to learn how to write shorter, faster pieces, without the buffer of social media

From 2015 to somewhere in the 2021-2023 timeframe, thoughts and snippets of writing were pouring out of me every day, mostly feeding the Twitter firehose. Only a few of those thoughts ever graduated into blog post form, but those few are the ones that have endured and had the most impact.

Over the past 2-4 years, I’ve been writing less frequently, less consistently, and mostly in blog post form. My posts, meanwhile, have gotten longer and longer. I keep shipping these 5000-9000-word monstrosities (I’m so sorry 🤦). I sometimes wonder who, if anyone, ever reads the whole thing.

The problem is that I keep writing myself into a ditch. I pick up a topic, and start writing, and somehow it metastasizes. It expands to consume all available time and space (and then some). By the time I’ve finished editing it down, weeks if not months have passed, and I have usually grown to loathe the sight of it.

For most of my adult life, I’ve relied on hard deadlines and panic to drive projects to completion, or to determine the scope of a piece. I’ve relied on anger and adrenaline rushes to fuel my creative juices, and due dates and external pressure to get myself over the finish line.

And what does that finish line look like? Running out of time, of course! I know I’m done because I have run out of time to work on it. No wonder scoping is such a problem for me.

A three month experiment in writing bite sized pieces

I need to learn to write in a different way. I need to learn to draft without twitter, scope without deadlines. Over the next five years, I want to get a larger percentage of my thoughts shipped in written form, and I don’t want them to evaporate into the ether of social media. This means I need to make some changes.

  1. write shorter pieces
  2. spend less time writing and editing
  3. find the line of embarrassment, and hug it.

For the next three months, I am going to challenge myself to write one blog post per week (travel weeks exempt). I will try to cap each one under 1000 words (but not obsess over it, because the point is to edit less).

I’m writing this down as a public commitment and accountability mechanism.

So there we go, 1473 words. Just above the line of embarrassment.

See you here next week.

On Writing, Social Media, and Finding the Line of Embarrassment