A Programmer's Love Letter to Meaningful Code
There's something deeply personal about way I name my variables. It's not just about following convention or making code readable—though those matter too. It's about creating a relationship, a sense of familiarity and trust that transforms lines of code from abstract symbols into... well, companions.
I've been thinking about this lately, especially during those quiet morning coding sessions when Oregon Coast fog rolls in and my workspace feels like a cocoon. way I choose names for my variables reveals something fundamental about how my INTP-F brain processes not just logic, but connection.
When I write currentUser instead of usr, I'm not just being verbose. I'm creating a mental model where this variable becomes a character in story my code is telling. currentUser has personality—they're protagonist, one we're following through authentication journey, one whose permissions we're checking with care.
second version doesn't just execute differently—it feels different. currentUser isn't just data; they're a person with privileges and responsibilities. When I debug issues with this code months later, I'm not hunting through abstract symbols—I'm following currentUser through their journey.
Think about your oldest friend. You probably don't call them by their full legal name in casual conversation. But when you introduce them to someone new, you use their real name with pride and context. That's exactly how I treat my variables.
Just like with people, context determines formality. But underlying respect— recognition that this variable represents something meaningful—remains constant.
Here's where my F-side really kicks in. Every variable name is an act of empathy—for programmer who'll read this code in six months (usually me, caffeine-deprived and slightly panicked), for teammate who'll need to debug this during a production incident, for junior developer who's trying to understand how our system works.
A confession: I used to think caring about variable names was just being pedantic. Then I spent three hours debugging a function where every variable was named like tmp1, data, and result. Three hours of my life I'll never get back, lost in a maze of meaningless identifiers.
That night, I rewrote entire function with love. incomingWebhookPayload, parsedEventData, processedNotification. Suddenly, code told a story. bug was obvious. solution was elegant.
Good variable names are breadcrumbs through forest of logic. They're difference between code that feels like a puzzle and code that feels like a conversation.
I love names that tell me both what something is and why it exists:
For data that transforms through a process, I name each stage:
Boolean variables that reveal their purpose:
I once inherited a payment processing function where every variable was named with single letters: a, b, c, x, y, z. original developer (let's call him Dave) had left company, and this function was processing thousands of dollars in transactions daily.
Instead of cursing Dave's name every time I had to debug it, I spent a weekend rewriting it with loving variable names: transactionAmount, merchantFeePercentage, customerTaxRate. Not only did bugs become obvious, but when Dave returned as a contractor months later, he said, "Wow, this is so much clearer than what I wrote. Thank you for making my code better."
Good variable names don't just make code better—they make collaboration kinder.
There's this magical moment when you're debugging well-named code. Instead of mentally translating cryptic abbreviations, you follow story: incomingMessage becomes parsedNotification becomes validatedEvent becomes processedResponse.
It's like dancing with code instead of wrestling with it.
Programming isn't just about getting computers to do things—it's about communicating with other humans through medium of code. Every variable name is a choice about how clearly you want to express your thoughts, how much you respect person who'll read your code next.
"Code is read far more often than it's written."
— A truth every INTP-F programmer learns eventually
When I name a variable userPreferredTimezone instead of tz, I'm not just being verbose. I'm acknowledging that this represents a real person's real preference about how they want to experience time in our application. There's humanity in that specificity.
My INTP side loves logical precision of meaningful names. My F side loves that they make collaboration feel more human and less mechanical. Together, they create code that's both technically sound and emotionally intelligent.
Every time I name a variable, I'm writing a small love letter to future. To developer who'll maintain this code. To person debugging at 2 AM. To my future self, who'll be grateful for breadcrumbs I'm leaving today.
In a world of increasingly complex systems and abstract architectures, meaningful variable names are tiny acts of rebellion against chaos. They're proof that we can build technology that serves humanity, starting with how we serve each other through our code.
So yes, I name my variables like old friends. Because good code isn't just functional—it's kind. It's considerate. It recognizes that programming is fundamentally a human activity, even when we're talking to machines.
And maybe, just maybe, world needs a little more kindness, one meaningfulVariableName at a time.
From fog-wrapped coding sessions of Oregon Coast,
~ Ken
INTP-F Programmer Oregon Coast AI Variable Naming Enthusiast
Do you have variable naming patterns that spark joy? Horror stories of cryptic code? I'd love to hear about your own journey with meaningful identifiers and human side of programming.
Share your thoughts with us at Oregon Coast AI – where innovation meets nature, and code meets kindness.