Every large software development organization has made the same bargain: if nobody has to understand the whole system, we can build a more capable system than we otherwise could, even though it grows bigger and more complex. We break systems into components with well-defined interfaces so that each team needs to understand only the pieces it owns, plus the interfaces of its neighbors. That’s the point of every decomposition strategy, whether it’s microservices, bounded contexts, service ownership, or a well-modularized monolith. The architecture deliberately limits what any one person has to hold in their head.

It’s a sound strategy. It’s also why some incidents are so much harder than others.

Lorin Hochstein named this pattern beautifully in a recent post, The demon of the gaps. Failures that stay inside a single component are the easy ones; you page the owning team, they figure out what’s wrong, and they fix it. The hairy incidents emerge from unexpected interactions across components: several services throwing errors at once, or no services throwing errors while customers see broken behavior anyway. As Lorin puts it, “you’ve built an analysis solution but you’re now faced with a synthesis problem.” In order to scale, the architecture deliberately optimized away the need for whole-system understanding; now the whole system isn’t working, but nobody has that understanding to call on.

I’ve watched this play out in incident channels many times. Subject matter experts from six different teams, each reporting that their own service looks healthy. Six dashboards are green, but meanwhile, checkout is still failing for customers. The knowledge needed to explain what’s happening exists, distributed across six heads, but nobody is assembling the pieces. The responders need to understand how the system as a whole is behaving right now. That understanding has to be built live, under pressure, from multiple partial models. That’s synthesis work, and it doesn’t happen on its own.

Lorin observes that guidance on preparing for this work is almost nonexistent. Here’s the encouraging part: closing the structural gap is fairly straightforward. Most companies already use structured incident roles (incident commander, subject matter expert, customer liaison, etc.); they need to add a synthesis role, activated when needed for complex incidents.

Synthesis is a job. Name it.

The incident commander (IC) coordinates the overall response; every incident will have one. On the most complex incidents, though, where you need this synthesis function most, the trick is to also activate an incident tech lead (TL) to lead the technical investigation. The role is analogous to the tech lead role many teams have in their everyday structure, but its scope is the incident rather than one particular service. Most companies have never established the incident TL role, and for routine incidents they don’t miss it: the IC can handle the technical side along with everything else, but for complex incidents, the TL role can be incredibly valuable.

The incident TL job, properly understood, is the synthesis job: connecting observations across component boundaries, correlating the partial models from different subject matter experts, and maintaining the evolving picture of how the system is failing and what we’re doing about it. The TL doesn’t need to be the deepest expert in any single component. They need to be good at building a working model out of other people’s expertise, and much of that work is cross-checking, holding indications from different components up against each other and noticing the discrepancies: “If we’re seeing this in component A, we should be seeing that in component B, but we aren’t; why not?” “If A is doing this and B is doing that, the problem must be upstream of both.” “Wait, A says one thing but B says another; they can’t both be right, can they?”

The separation between IC and TL exists to protect that work, and it cuts both ways. Synthesis requires sustained, heads-down attention; you can’t reconstruct a system model in the gaps between stakeholder updates and staffing decisions. And the same complexity that makes an incident demand serious synthesis also multiplies the outward-facing work: more stakeholders to update, more escalations, more decisions about the response itself. The two loads peak together, and one person can’t carry both.

The IC takes everything outward-facing precisely so the TL can stay immersed in the technical picture, and the TL handles the heads-down focused work so that the IC has time for everything else. When I’m the incident commander, one of the most valuable things I can do for my tech lead is keep everyone else out of their hair. But the separation is a division of labor, not a wall. I like to think of the IC and the TL standing back to back, facing opposite directions, talking over their shoulders to keep each other informed. Each is watching a different part of the horizon, and together they have the whole picture.

The response team crosses the boundaries on purpose

An incident response is a temporary organization: an ad hoc team assembled across ownership boundaries for exactly as long as the incident lasts. Conway’s law observes that systems end up mirroring the communication structures of the organizations that build them, and the mirror works in both directions: your team boundaries and your component boundaries align, which is exactly what you want for everyday work. The incident structure deliberately cuts across those boundaries, because the gaps between components are where the problem lives. Pulling six SMEs into one channel isn’t enough by itself, though. A group of experts in the same room is a meeting; a group of experts with someone responsible for synthesizing what they know is a response.

The communication mechanisms are synthesis tools

The standard incident communication practices may seem like bureaucratic overhead until you see what they’re for. “Going around the horn” (each responder, in turn, briefly reports what they’re seeing and doing) forces the partial models into the open, where the TL can correlate them. A periodic situation report, or SitRep, forces someone to compress the current understanding into a few sentences; writing it is itself an act of synthesis, and reading it gives every responder the same baseline picture to work from. Narrating before you act keeps each responder’s local view visible to the whole room. None of these mechanisms exists for discipline’s sake. They’re how a group of people, each holding a partial model, builds and maintains a shared one.

Wildfires don’t respect organizational boundaries either

As is often the case in incident management, we can look to fire departments for inspiration and solutions. Consider a major wildfire. Dozens of agencies converge: federal, state, tribal, and local, some from hundreds or even thousands of miles away. No single agency understands the whole incident, with its terrain, weather, fuel, crews, and aircraft. The Incident Command System (ICS), the standard structure for emergency response in the US and beyond, is how all these disparate parts get pulled together into a coherent whole. ICS treats building the shared picture as a staffed function: a planning section tracks the situation and the resources, assembles the common operating picture, and distributes it to every responder through the incident action plan. Nobody simply hopes that shared understanding will emerge; somebody owns producing it.

Software companies can borrow that lesson directly: treat synthesis as a named responsibility rather than an emergent property. If the IC role at your company is defined as “project manager of the outage” and nobody is explicitly responsible for assembling the technical picture, the synthesis function is unowned, and it will show in your cross-boundary incidents. Establish the incident tech lead role. Protect it from outward-facing distraction. And practice it: when you run game days or tabletop exercises, choose scenarios that cross team boundaries, because those are the scenarios that exercise synthesis rather than component expertise.

Decomposition made whole-system understanding nobody’s everyday job, and that’s fine; it’s a good strategy with a known cost. Incident management structure is how you pay that cost only when you must, with machinery built for the moment.


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