Why I‘m Not Using Your GitHub Repository
As a seasoned full-stack developer, I‘ve lost count of how many GitHub repositories I‘ve used over the years. Open-source libraries are the lifeblood of modern software development, allowing us to build complex applications faster than ever before. However, for every well-maintained and documented project, there are countless others that are buggy, neglected, and utterly unusable.
In fact, a recent study by the University of Zurich found that out of 1.8 million GitHub repos analyzed, only 14% had a README file, 7% had a LICENSE file, and a mere 5% had both (Bafatakis et al., 2019). Another survey of over 4,000 developers found that incomplete or outdated documentation is the number one obstacle to using open-source software, cited by 93% of respondents (Aghajani et al., 2020).
As a professional coder, using a badly maintained repo isn‘t just frustrating – it‘s a massive waste of time and energy. In this post, I want to share some of the most common issues I‘ve encountered that lead me to pass over a repo. My goal is to provide some constructive feedback for open-source maintainers on how to create projects that are a joy to use and contribute to.
Issue 1: Lack of Documentation
Imagine trying to assemble a piece of Ikea furniture without the instruction manual. You‘d be stuck staring at a pile of wooden pieces and metal screws, with no idea how they fit together. Using a code library without documentation is a similarly frustrating experience.
At a bare minimum, every GitHub repo should include a README file that covers:
- The purpose and main features of the project
- Installation instructions, including prerequisites and dependencies
- Basic usage examples covering the most common use cases
- Configuration options and how to customize behavior
- Known limitations and issues
- Contribution guidelines and contact information for maintainers
Beyond the basics, good documentation also includes API references, tutorials, and troubleshooting guides. The gold standard is to have a dedicated documentation website using a tool like Sphinx, GitBook, or Docusaurus. The more time and effort put into documentation, the easier it is for users to adopt the library.
Numerous studies have shown the impact of good documentation on developer productivity and satisfaction. For example, a controlled experiment by Uddin et al. (2020) found that developers using a well-documented API were able to complete tasks 30% faster and with 40% fewer errors compared to those using an undocumented API. In another survey of over 1,000 developers, 60% said they would be more likely to contribute to an open-source project if it had better documentation (Robillard et al., 2017).
Personally, I‘ve wasted countless hours trying to decipher cryptic codebases with little or no documentation. In one case, I was tasked with integrating a popular machine learning library into our application. The library had over 10,000 stars on GitHub, but the documentation was a single page of sparse text and code snippets. After two days of fruitless struggle, I ended up switching to a competing library that had excellent documentation and examples. The difference in developer experience was night and day.
Issue 2: Inconsistent Code Quality
As a seasoned coder, I can appreciate the artistry of a well-crafted codebase. Clean, modular code is a pleasure to read and maintain, while spaghetti code is a never-ending nightmare. Unfortunately, many GitHub repos fall into the latter category, with inconsistent coding styles, convoluted logic, and a lack of unit tests.
In a perfect world, every line of code would be a shining example of best practices. Functions would be short and focused, with clear input and output contracts. Variable names would be descriptive and unambiguous. Comments would explain the why behind the code, not just the what. Unit tests would cover all edge cases and failure modes.
Sadly, the reality is often very different. I‘ve seen repos where every developer had their own wildly different coding style. One file would use camelCase variable names, while another used snake_case. Indentation was all over the place, with a mix of tabs and spaces. Functions stretched on for hundreds of lines, with deeply nested conditionals and loops. Comments were either nonexistent or outright misleading.
The impact of poor code quality on developer productivity is well documented. A study by Boehm and Basili (2005) found that every hour spent on code quality and defect prevention saves 5-10 hours of downstream maintenance costs. Another study by Beller et al. (2018) analyzed over 2 million GitHub repos and found that projects with higher code quality metrics had significantly more stars, forks, and contributors.
As a professional developer, I‘ve learned the hard way the importance of code quality. In one memorable incident, I was tasked with fixing a bug in a critical production system. The codebase was a tangled mess of spaghetti code, with functions that were thousands of lines long and variables named a, b, and c. It took me three days just to understand the flow of the program, let alone identify and fix the bug. In hindsight, if the original developers had followed basic coding standards and modularized the codebase, the bug would have been trivial to fix.
Issue 3: Dependency Hell
Modern software is built on a foundation of open-source libraries and frameworks. It‘s not uncommon for a single application to depend on hundreds or even thousands of external packages. While this allows us to build complex systems faster than ever before, it also introduces a new set of challenges around dependency management.
One of the most frustrating experiences as a developer is trying to use a library that has convoluted or conflicting dependencies. You start by installing the package, only to be greeted with a barrage of error messages about missing or incompatible versions of sub-dependencies. You try to install the missing packages, but they have their own set of dependencies that conflict with the ones you already have. Before you know it, you‘re trapped in dependency hell, with no clear way out.
The problem is compounded by the fact that many GitHub repos don‘t explicitly list their dependencies or provide a way to automatically resolve them. Instead, users are left to figure it out on their own, through trial and error or by spelunking through the codebase. This is a huge time sink and barrier to adoption.
To quantify the impact of dependency hell, a study by Kula et al. (2018) analyzed over 1.6 million Java libraries on Maven Central and found that 81% had at least one transitive dependency that was never explicitly declared. Another study by Decan et al. (2019) looked at the NPM ecosystem and found that the average package had 77 transitive dependencies, with some having over 1,000.
As a full-stack developer, I‘ve spent more hours than I care to admit wrestling with dependency issues. In one particularly egregious case, I was trying to use a popular data visualization library that had over 20 direct dependencies, each with their own sub-dependencies. After two days of fruitless effort, I gave up and wrote the visualization from scratch using vanilla JavaScript. It took me less time to reimplement the functionality than to get the library working.
The solution is for repo maintainers to provide clear and explicit instructions for installing and managing dependencies. This could be as simple as including a requirements.txt file for Python projects or a package.json file for JavaScript. Even better is to provide a containerized environment using Docker or Vagrant that includes all the necessary dependencies preconfigured.
Issue 4: Lack of Maintenance
Open-source software is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it allows developers to build on the work of others and create powerful applications quickly and cheaply. On the other hand, it relies on the goodwill and free labor of maintainers who may not have the time or resources to keep the project alive.
Unmaintained repos are a ticking time bomb. At first, everything seems fine – the code works as advertised and the documentation is sufficient. But as time goes on, cracks start to appear. Dependencies become outdated and insecure. Bugs and performance issues go unfixed. Feature requests and pull requests languish without response. Slowly but surely, the repo becomes a liability rather than an asset.
The problem is widespread. A study by Khondhu et al. (2013) analyzed over 1.9 million GitHub repos and found that the average project had a lifespan of just 1.2 years before being abandoned. Another study by Valiev et al. (2018) found that 98% of the most popular NPM packages relied on at least one unmaintained sub-dependency.
I‘ve been bitten by this issue more times than I can count. In one case, my team was using a popular open-source library for data processing. Everything was working fine until we upgraded to a new version of Python, at which point the library stopped working entirely. We reached out to the maintainer for help, but received no response. After some digging, we discovered that the maintainer had abandoned the project years ago and moved on to other things. We were forced to fork the library and make the necessary changes ourselves, which ended up being a significant time sink.
The solution is for maintainers to be upfront about the status of their project and their ability to support it long-term. If a repo is no longer actively maintained, it should be clearly marked as such in the README or documentation. Even better is to have a succession plan in place, where other contributors can take over maintenance duties if the original authors are no longer available.
Conclusion
GitHub has revolutionized the way we build software, making it easier than ever to collaborate and share code. However, the open-source ecosystem is far from perfect. For every well-maintained and documented project, there are countless others that are buggy, neglected, and difficult to use.
As professional developers, we have a responsibility to create repos that are a joy to use and contribute to. This means writing clear and comprehensive documentation, following best practices for code quality and organization, providing a smooth installation process, and being responsive to issues and feature requests. It also means being realistic about the long-term sustainability of the project and having a plan for when the original maintainers are no longer available.
By following these best practices, we can create a virtuous cycle of open-source development, where high-quality repos attract more users and contributors, leading to even better code and documentation. Conversely, by ignoring these practices, we risk creating a vicious cycle of unmaintained and unusable code that saps productivity and breeds frustration.
As a seasoned developer, my advice to anyone creating a new GitHub repo is to treat it like a product, not just a code dump. Think about the developer experience from start to finish, from installation to usage to troubleshooting. Invest time and effort into crafting clear and comprehensive documentation, and be responsive to feedback and issues. Most importantly, be upfront about the status of the project and your ability to support it long-term.
By following these guidelines, we can create a more sustainable and productive open-source ecosystem, one that empowers developers to build great things and share them with the world. So the next time you create a GitHub repo, ask yourself: would I want to use this code myself? If the answer is no, it‘s time to go back to the drawing board and make it better.