I’m just gonna say it: this one’s gonna piss a lot of people off. Honestly, more than I initially thought it would. After talking this topic over with some colleagues, I’ve been unceremoniously informed that I am absolutely in the wrong. Also, and I quote, “You're kind of an asshole, dude.” So there’s that.
But, ya know what? I’ve been a wrong asshole before. I’ll definitely be one again. So… coolio... let’s do this.
I’m just gonna say it.
Great, Full Stack Dev-Ops, Are Myths
I stand behind this. A great full-stack dev-ops developer is mediocrity incarnate. On purpose. By… choice... Which is just... holy fucking wut.
For the record, I’m very much a specialist (for any newcomers). So yes—biased, 100%. Zero sarcasm there. Easy criticism. I own it. Go nuts if you want an easy out.
But here’s the thing: I have a very healthy respect for code and development. Truth moment: it’s my favorite thing. My. Favorite. Thing. Code is my art. My spiritual safe space. So yeah, I’m absolutely a pedantic asshole about this stuff.
I’ve worked on knucklehead projects nobody cared about and on systems with tens of millions of hits a day. I’ve done design, UI, and creative work (poorly). I’ve done server-side logic and database architecture (obviously). I’ve gone from maintaining BlackBerry and Windows NT networks to Active Directory cloud solutions. I’ve built full-blown social networks with all the bells and whistles, and I’ve shipped boring static brochure sites that just quietly paid the bills. I’ve set up load-balanced web server farms with gigabit firewalls and replicated databases like I knew what I was doing the whole time.
And here’s the salient point: I sucked at everything that wasn’t server-side programming. If code wasn’t involved, my abilities and confidence just got worse.
- Configuring firewalls and hardware?
- Making sure database replication had graceful failover?
- Ensuring elements lined up pixel-perfect across browsers without gremlins sneaking in?
Yeah. Hard pass. That’s someone else’s superpower. And God bless them for having it.
Which brings me to the hill I will happily die on: greatness lives in depth, not width.
The people who are truly terrifyingly good at what they do didn’t get there by dabbling. They got there by obsessing. By caring way too much about one slice of the stack while the rest of us were still Googling “why does CSS hate me personally.”
Now, before the pitchfork brigade forms up in the comments, let me be clear: I’m not saying full-stack devs don’t exist. They absolutely do. I’ve worked with plenty of them. Smart as hell. Invaluable on the right team.
What I am saying is that the mythical creature the "Great At Everything Full-Stack Dev-Ops Unicorn" is mostly a LinkedIn fairy tale we tell ourselves so job descriptions can stay under twelve pages.
Because here’s what actually happens in real life:
- You’re great at backend.
- You’re good enough at frontend.
- You’re dangerous-but-functional in DevOps.
And somehow that turns into: “This person can do literally everything.”
No. This person can do everything well enough to ship. Which is awesome. That’s how products get made. That’s how startups survive. That’s how teams without ten specialists still get things done.
But “well enough to ship” and “great” are not the same thing. Not even cousins. Maybe awkward coworkers who nod at each other in the hallway.
And that’s okay.
Somewhere along the line we turned “generalist” into a badge of moral superiority; like specialization is a character flaw. As if choosing to be deeply excellent at one thing instead of mildly competent at twelve is some kind of personal failing.
Meanwhile, every industry that actually works at scale, medicine, engineering, music, hell, even cooking, runs on specialists.
- You don’t want your heart surgeon moonlighting as your anesthesiologist because “they’re full stack.”
- You don’t want your sound engineer also mixing your album and designing the cover art because “they can do it all.”
- You want people who are scary good at their lane.
Software shouldn’t be the one place where we pretend that rule doesn’t apply.
So if you’re a full-stack dev, this isn’t a hit piece. It’s not a drive-by. It’s a love letter with some tough love baked in. You’re doing hard work. Valuable work. Often thankless work. You keep projects moving when specialists aren’t available, budgets are tight, and timelines are stupid.
Just don’t let anyone, recruiters, managers, or your own inner impostor syndrome, convince you that you need to be great at everything to be legit.
You don’t.
- Be great at something.
- Be solid at the rest.
- Build teams where depth overlaps instead of pretending unicorns are real.
And if that makes me an asshole? Cool.