I wrote the following for the recent joint Agile Scotland / Agile North mini virtual-conference. It is an allegory about different approaches to software development.

The Three Princes

The stolen apple

Once upon a time there was a prosperous kingdom. The wheat fields were golden, the cattle sleek, and the fruit trees were heavy with succulent fruit. In the centre of the kingdom was a castle; in the centre of the castle was a garden; and in the centre of the garden was tree bearing a single, shining, solid-gold apple.

On a hot and close summer’s day the king was showing off his garden to a royal visitor. The visitor assured the king that if he were to pluck the gold apple, then the tree would be sure to bear many more precious fruit. There was something reassuring about the visitor’s voice: he seemed so reasonable and knowledgeable. The king reached out and plucked the apple. At that moment the weather broke. Lightning tore across the sky and there was a clap of thunder. There was a painful shower of huge hailstones and the king ran for cover. Looking back he was puzzled to find no sign of the stranger or the apple. He realised that he couldn’t quite remember who the visitor was. The next day, the tree died and the king fell ill.

That year the crops failed. The cattle became sick, and a blight spread through the fruit trees. A wise old woman told the king that the visitor was a sorcerer who ruled a land far to the North. The only way to restore the health of the King and his Kingdom was for one of the royal princes to journey to the sorcerer’s kingdom and take back the golden apple.

The first prince

The eldest son was strong and brave. He set off immediately with just a sword and cloak. Not long into the journey he was attacked by bandits, but his sharp sword and fast horse won the day. That night he stayed in an inn, eating the best food and the drinking the best drink, and sleeping in the best bed. But in the morning he found that he had been burgled: a sneak-thief had stolen his pouch of gold during the night.

Soon he had to sell his horse and then his cloak to pay for food on the journey. Being brave and determined, he continued the journey, sleeping by roadside, trudging through the rain, and eating sparsely until eventually he came to a river swollen by snow melt. The bridge had been carried away. Seeing no other way, he plunged into the water which soon swept his legs away, dashing him against sharp rocks. Eventually the prince managed to swim over to the other side. Exhausted, he continued his journey up into a steep mountain pass. The higher he walked, the colder the wind blew through his thin clothes. The drizzle turned to sleet, which turned to snow. Not far from the summit of the pass, the prince collapsed into a deep snow drift. All his energy spent, he quickly froze.

The second prince

The next year the the second son took on the quest. This prince was careful and studious. He spent weeks in the castle library, researching the journey. He learnt of bandit country; he learnt of the fickle weather; he learnt of the high pass, not negotiable by winter and a river that became raging and swollen with snow melt during the spring and summer. The prince researched, then he planned, then he prepared. He prepared a selection of the palace guard to protect him from bandits; he prepared provisions for the journey; he prepared clothes for all weathers; he prepared tents, and mallets, and ground-sheets, and field kitchens. He prepared a time-table: his plan was to cross the river on the cusp of spring, before the melting snows made it impassible but late enough to navigate the high pass.

The first part of the journey was uneventful, no brigands made an attempt at such a well-armed party. But a small, and perhaps not so well-disciplined, army travels more slowly than you might plan for. It takes time to make camp, strike camp, round-up stragglers, make food, stop for lunch. Soon the expedition fell behind schedule. Once out of bandit country the soldiers were dismissed, but not without a heavy drain on the prince’s purse for expenses on the way home. It’s hard to say no to 20 men with sharp swords. Now with just a single cart for his own needs the prince was sure he would be able to make up time. And indeed he did, on the next day. And on the day after. The day after that the it set to rain. The road turned to mud and bogged the cart down. After a week of rain the sun came out. The road dried, then a wheel broke. Fortunately the prince was near to a town with a wheelwright, so after losing only a few days and the spending the rest of his money the prince set off again.

The prince was late reaching the river, but there was still a bridge holding on against the floodwaters. Tentatively the prince inched the cart over the bridge. It creaked; the waters churned against the supports; the bridge tilted and started to break; the cart spilled and the prince found himself plunged into freezing cold water being pounded against sharp rocks. Eventually the prince managed to swim over to the other side. Exhausted, he continued his journey up into the steep mountain pass. The higher he walked, the colder the wind blew through his thin clothes. The drizzle turned to sleet, which turned to snow. Not far from the summit of the pass, the prince collapsed into a deep snow drift. All his energy spent, he quickly froze.

The third prince

The next year it was the youngest son’s turn to attempt the quest. He set off on horseback with a few friends to help deter the bandits. They had one close call, but managed to fight and then run out of trouble. Each night they stayed in inns, but ate and drank modestly. The prince slept with his purse and his sword under his pillow.

Each night also the prince bought a drink for the locals and asked about the journey ahead. Using that information he made a plan for the next day. They found good cheap inns, and fast roads. One time, they shaved three days off the journey by hiring a local guide to take them through little known forest paths. Soon they were clear of bandit country and it was time for the prince to say farewell to his friends. The weather changed to rain, but the prince bought an excellent oilskin cloak from a farmer he befriended in an inn one night.

Soon the prince arrived at the river, but there had been heavy rainfall and early melt of snow that year: the bridge was already swept away. The prince saw that it would be foolish to attempt a crossing and turned back towards an inn he had passed two hours earlier. That night he learnt that the river was passable by a rope bridge in a town a day’s ride upstream. The prince journeyed on to the rope bridge. He stabled his horse and bought warm clothes and food. He crossed at the bridge and continued his journey up the steep mountain pass. As he walked he gathered firewood before the trees gave way to bare mountainside. That night, as the sleet turned to snow near the summit of the pass he kept warm in his furs next to a raging fire.

By the next evening he was nearly at the wicked sorcerer-king’s castle. He stopped at a peasant’s hovel and offered a silver coin, gratefully received, in exchange for a night’s food and lodgings. Over supper he learnt something very interesting: the sorcerer did not sleep by day, and he did not sleep by night. But for one hour around both dawn and dusk he must be in the innermost room of his castle. The rising sun found the prince stealing into the sorcerer’s garden, were he found a small tree bearing a tiny golden apple. The prince was away and up into the mountains before the sorcerer was abroad.

The prince returned to his kingdom and planted the tiny apple in the castle garden. It quickly grew into a beautiful tree, bearing a single, shining, solid-gold apple. The former prosperity returned to the kingdom.

And the prince, and his father, and his father’s subjects all lived happily ever after.