There was a time I believed that if I just wrote a perfect spec—everything would go smoothly.
The devs would build exactly what I envisioned.
QA wouldn’t miss a thing.
The product owner would nod in agreement, and we’d launch on time.
That fantasy lasted about two sprints.
I Was Trained to Believe Specs Were Sacred
Back when I started out as a BA, we were taught to treat documentation like gospel.
You wrote it all down—every scenario, exception, flow, dropdown option, tooltip. The longer the spec, the more “complete” it was. If it made it to 20 pages? Even better.
I once spent three weeks writing a spec for a search filter. No one questioned it. That was just the norm.
Then Agile Happened—And My Confidence Cracked
Agile hit like a cold shower.
Suddenly we were in sprint planning talking about “just enough” documentation. Stories were short. Acceptance criteria were lean. My 20-page documents became the elephant in the room no one had time to read.
The first few sprints? Painful.
Dev asked me things that werealready in the spec.
QA missed stuff because they were waiting for a walkthrough I didn’t have time to give.
And I kept thinking:“Why is no one reading this?”
The truth? They didn’t need to.
What they needed wasme, in the room, talking with them—not hiding behind a Google Doc.
My Wake-Up Call Came in a Retro
I’ll never forget this.
In a retro, one of the devs (very kindly) said:
“We appreciate the effort, but the spec is too much. We’d rather walk through the story with you and get clarity directly.”
That one line shifted everything for me.
I realized I wasn’t writing specs for them—I was writing them for me. To feel prepared. To feel useful. To prove I was doing my job.
But in an Agile world, usefulness doesn’t come from a polished doc. It comes from creating shared understanding.
I Burned the Spec—and Found Something Better
After that retro, I tried something radical.
I replaced a full-blown spec with:
- Three user stories
- A sketchy whiteboard diagram
- One 30-min conversation with the team
That was it.
It felt risky. Like showing up underdressed to a formal party.
But the team got it. They asked questions. They suggested ideas. QA chimed in with edge cases I hadn’t thought of.
And the feature shipped—faster, better, and with less friction than ever before.
What I Use Now (Instead of Specs)
🧩 User Story Mapping— For seeing the flow, not just the features
🧠Personas— To anchor decisions in user goals
✅Lean acceptance criteria— So “done” is clear, but not rigid
🎤Team conversations — Because no spec beats a 15-min talk
And sometimes…
I still write things down. But not as a crutch. As a compass.
The Hard Truth: Specs Made Me Feel in Control. But They Weren’t Saving Me.
Specs gave me the illusion of safety.
I thought they would shield me from mistakes, misunderstandings, and scope changes. But all they really did was delay reality.
What works now is different:
- I talk more. I listen harder.
- I stay involved through delivery, not just at kickoff.
- I let go of perfect. I aim for progress.
Final Thoughts: You Don’t Need a Spec. You Need a Seat at the Table.
If you’re a BA struggling to let go of “the way it used to be,” I get it. I was you.
But Agile doesn’t need scribes. It needs connectors.
People who create alignment, not attachments.
People who know how to lead in a room full of change.
So write if you must. But don’t hide behind it.
Be the reason the team builds the right thing.
