Are We Taking "Clean Code" Too Far?

I’m going to say it: We spend too much time on ‘clean code.’

Before you grab your pitchforks, hear me out.

I’m not saying you should write unreadable spaghetti that future you (or worse, your teammates) will hate. Maintainable code is essential. But somewhere along the way, the software community took “clean code” from a useful principle to an almost religious pursuit and in that transition, we may have lost sight of what really matters: shipping value.

In many engineering conversations today, there's an implicit assumption that elegance equals impact. That if we just refactor one more time, abstract one more layer, or write a more generic utility, the codebase will magically become better; more pure, more professional. But here’s the uncomfortable truth:

A perfectly architected system that never ships is just a very expensive distraction.

The Paradox of Perfection

I’ve seen it firsthand and I’ve been guilty of it too. You open your editor, ready to solve a business problem. But instead of building the MVP, you spend hours tweaking the folder structure, setting up elaborate test frameworks, and debating whether your dependency injection layer should be inverted twice for maximum decoupling.

You tell yourself you’re being a “professional.” But deep down? You might just be avoiding risk.

There’s a reason this happens. Clean code feels good. There’s comfort in refactoring, in polishing functions, in renaming things until the abstractions line up like poetry. But if the code you’re cleaning isn’t solving real user problems yet, what’s the point?

Sometimes, we’re just polishing the engine while the car is stuck in the mud.

Quick Wins vs. Clean Wins

Lately, I’ve been diving into some projects that reminded me of this distinction and how easy it is to forget.

For example:

I was building a SimHash-based text indexing tool in Go and the first version? Super hacky. But it proved the idea worked. Chasing the perfect hash table implementation would’ve slowed me down before I even validated anything useful.
In a recent GraphQL project, I needed JWT auth and SVG graphs working in days, not weeks. Did I write reusable auth middleware for every case? No. I hardcoded it first. Then, once it worked and the UI displayed real data, I cleaned it up.
With our Tetris Game concept, we didn’t start with the architecture. We built a lean prototype to show the framework itself could work. That early test was more important than the code elegance behind it.

In all these cases, speed mattered more than perfection. Not because I don’t care about clean code but because I care more about outcomes.

When Clean Code Becomes a Crutch

Here’s the thing no one tells junior developers: the codebase that wins isn’t always the cleanest one. It’s often the one that ships fast, learns from real users, and adapts based on actual demand.

I’ve talked to developers who are afraid to launch unless their repo looks like something out of a textbook. I get it, no one wants to be judged. But this fear can kill momentum. Clean code is supposed to help teams move faster and collaborate better. But when it becomes a crutch, or worse, a bottleneck; it loses its purpose.

You can always refactor. But you can't retroactively launch sooner.

What Clean Code Isn’t

Let’s be clear: I’m not dismissing clean code. In fact, I’m a fan of:

Meaningful names
Separation of concerns
Avoiding duplication
Testing critical logic
Clear, modular structure
Well documented code

But clean code isn’t:

Writing ten layers of abstraction before your first commit
Premature optimization for traffic you don’t have
Spending a week writing tests for code that changes daily
Obsessing over file structure instead of user experience

Clean code is a tool. Not a trophy.

Shifting the Mindset

So how do we balance craft with progress?

Here’s what’s worked for me lately:

Build ugly first. Get something working. Then assess if it's worth refactoring.
Solve user problems early. Code that delivers real value will guide better design decisions.
Make decisions reversible. Favor flexible choices over rigid perfection.
Refactor after feedback. Let real-world use cases shape the system, not abstract idealism.
Ship often, improve continuously. Feedback is your friend. Don’t wait for “perfect.”

In Summary

Clean code matters, but only in service of something greater. Don’t fall into the trap of code aesthetics over code purpose.

It’s okay to write “ugly” code that solves the problem today. You can always refactor tomorrow. But an unlaunched, over-engineered masterpiece? That’s just technical debt in disguise.

So next time you catch yourself reaching for one more layer of abstraction, ask: