Let’s get something out of the way first: clean code is not a religion. It’s not a moral compass. It’s not the divine blueprint handed down from the software gods. It’s a tool. And like any tool, it can help you build beautiful things—or, if used like a brain-dead zealot, it can waste your time faster than a two-hour Zoom meeting about "synergy."
You're not here to write code that looks like it belongs in a museum. You're here to solve problems.
And the cold, brutal truth?
Sometimes solving problems means writing code that’s ugly. Messy. Full of shortcuts. And that’s okay.
In fact, that might be better.
But before you flip your desk and scream, “Blasphemy!” let’s dig into why.
💥 Cognitive Load Is the Real Villain, Not "Unclean" Code
Your brain—yes, that wrinkly meatball in your skull—is not optimized for obsessing over the Single Responsibility Principle like some neurotic monk. Your brain wants to do one thing: not be overwhelmed.
In cognitive psychology, there’s this lovely concept called cognitive load. It’s how much mental effort it takes to process information. The more load, the more your brain goes:
“Nope, f**k this,”
...and checks out.
When you’re organizing or refactoring code, your real job isn’t to make it look like it belongs in a programming textbook—it’s to reduce the cognitive load for whoever touches that code next (especially if that’s Future You, hungover on cold brew and existential dread).
- Code that’s overly “clean” but scattered across 17 tiny files and 14 abstraction layers? 🧠 High cognitive load.
- Code that’s “ugly” but understandable in five seconds? 🎁 A gift from the gods of sanity.
🪑 Abstractions Are Like IKEA Furniture: Use Sparingly, Assemble Carefully
Look, abstractions are useful. Nobody wants to repeat the same code like some digital Groundhog Day. But here’s the kicker:
Most developers treat abstractions like collectibles.
They create interfaces for their interfaces, repositories for their repositories, until you’re ten layers deep and can’t remember why you started programming in the first place.
From a cognitive standpoint, each layer of abstraction adds a mental hop. Your working memory—bless its tiny capacity—can only juggle so many things before it drops the ball and says, “I’m out.”
So ask yourself:
Are you abstracting to clarify, or are you abstracting to flex?
Because if it’s the latter, congratulations—you’ve become the software version of a guy who only talks in gym metaphors and wears protein powder like cologne.
🎯 Context Matters More Than Consistency
Here’s where most clean code cultists lose the plot: they believe the rules apply universally.
- Always abstract.
- Always DRY.
- Always separate concerns.
As if software was a holy text and not a fluid, messy, living thing.
Psychology calls this contextual reasoning. It means your brain makes better decisions when it considers the specific situation rather than blindly following rules.
Want a good example?
Sometimes duplicating a few lines of code makes your logic clearer.
Sometimes having everything in one module helps you move faster.
Good code adapts. Great developers know when to break the rules.
🧠 Flexibility Is a Feature, Not a Flaw
There’s a certain breed of developer who thinks flexibility is a sign of weakness. They’ll slap your wrist for inconsistent spacing but won’t bat an eye at a function that takes eight arguments and triggers a mild panic attack.
Don’t be that person.
Psychologically, flexibility is linked to creative problem solving. Rigid minds cling to rules because they’re scared shitless of ambiguity.
But if you want to actually innovate—write code that solves hard problems in interesting ways—you need to get comfortable with a little chaos.
- Refactor when it makes sense.
- Abstract when it helps.
- Ignore rules when they’re slowing you down.
And yes, sometimes that means your code won’t win a standing ovation from the Clean Code purists. That’s fine. You’re not writing for them.
You’re writing for progress.
🧭 The Real Question Isn’t “Is This Clean?” It’s “Does This Make Sense?”
At the end of the day, you’re not here to win the Refactoring Olympics.
You’re here to write code that works, that’s understandable, and that doesn’t turn your brain into mashed potatoes every time you revisit it.
So next time you’re knee-deep in a codebase wondering whether to break that file into smaller pieces, or whether to DRY that block, stop and ask the only question that matters:
“Does this help or does this hurt my brain?”
If it helps—do it.
If it hurts—don't.
And if you're not sure? Flip a coin and move on.
You’ve got better things to do than worship the Church of Clean Code.
Top comments (1)
You are totally correct.
While cresting my current big project, I used SOLID principles in starting, I got to knew better organizations and coding standards and many more things.
But sometimes in process of that, even sometime I fails to remember how that thing works.
And with some my new rules of my own, I founded a perfect structure that'll support me even if I open my code years later, and is also very good to understand for others ( tried and tested via my friends, gave them code and few days to understand, and after that tell me what you understood, and it was very good review )
One for example of my rule is that not all components needs a separate file
Like there's 1 big component doing 1 thing that I'd harder to manage and there's a way to split em up for better organization and separation of concern
So what you'll do, may be scatter them in 2 3 4 individual compos and that many separate files, but here's where issue lies
You don't need to create separate files of those compos are only used by that main component
So instead of creating separate files, I just put them in same file as Parent and below that Parent compo.