In Defense of Beautiful Uselessness
On productive play, professional audacity, and why "why not?" might be the most important question in tech
In Riga, surrounded by the hum of PostgreSQL conference chatter—discussions of query optimization, connection pooling, high-availability architectures—I made what seemed like a throwaway comment to Jonathan Battiato about my latest obsession: salsa dancing.
I expected a polite laugh. Maybe a “that’s nice.” Then we’d return to the serious business of databases.
Instead, Jonathan’s eyes lit up. “We should build that.”
Not just talk about it. Engineer it.
By the time we stood on stage at P2D2 (Prague PostgreSQL Developers Day) three months down, we had created pg_dance: a PostgreSQL-powered choreography generator with normalized tables for feet positions and arm movements, orchestrated on Kubernetes via CloudNativePG, complete with streaming replication for high availability.
Because if you’re going to dance, you clearly need to ensure your partner never loses the beat due to a single point of failure.
On paper, this solves exactly zero business problems. It doesn’t increase throughput. It doesn’t lower latency. By corporate standards, it’s a magnificent waste of highly skilled engineering time.
And that’s precisely why it matters.
The Engineering of Joy
Here’s what we did: We didn’t just write a simple script. We brought the full force of the modern cloud-native stack to bear on the problem of generating salsa choreography.
We normalized dance moves into relational tables. We containerized the application. We deployed it on Kubernetes. We implemented PostgreSQL native streaming replication—not because the application needed it, but because we could.
Because the same skills that keep global financial systems running can also tell you to step on the 1, 2, and 3.
When we apply our highest professional skills to our deepest personal passions, something shifts. We stop being just “database engineers” or “marketers” or “technical writers.” We become people who play with the building blocks of our universe.
This is what I’ve come to think of as productive play: the deliberate application of serious expertise to delightfully unnecessary problems.
The Tyranny of Separation
We’ve been taught to live in silos.
There’s the World of Logic—the one of Bash scripts, Kubernetes clusters, sprint planning, and ROI calculations. This is where we are “professional.” Where we speak in metrics and optimize for efficiency.
Then there’s the World of Rhythm—the one of dance floors at 2 AM, cookies sent across continents from Chicago, old friendships that transcend conference schedules.
We’re told these worlds must remain separate. That bringing your “whole self” to work is fine in theory, but in practice, you should probably leave the salsa at the door when you walk into the data center.
But standing on that stage in Prague, watching the room’s energy shift as we talked about gloriously over-engineered dance generator, I realized something: the community doesn’t live in either world alone. It lives in the intersection.
The PostgreSQL community doesn’t gather just to optimize queries. We gather to be human with each other. To share cookies and stories and inside jokes. To build things that make us laugh while showcasing genuine technical skill.
The “Between Worlds” space—that messy, uncomfortable, thrilling intersection where technical expertise collides with human joy—isn’t a compromise between professionalism and authenticity. It’s where the most interesting innovation actually happens.
Why “Why?” Can Kill You
Enterprise culture worships at the altar of “Why?”
Why will this feature scale?
Why does this architecture reduce costs?
Why is this the most efficient use of our quarter?
These are good questions. Necessary questions. But they’re also limiting questions.
“Why?” demands justification. It requires you to defend your choices before you’ve even made them. It assumes that everything must serve a predetermined goal, fit into an existing roadmap, solve a defined problem.
“Why?” keeps you inside the lines.
“Why not?” is dangerous precisely because it doesn’t.
The “Why Not?” Manifesto
When Jonathan and I built pg_dance, we weren’t solving a problem. We were asking a different question: What if we took this seriously enough to do it beautifully?
What if we refused to choose between technical excellence and personal passion? What if we brought the same rigor to choreography generation that we bring to database optimization?
The “Why not?” philosophy is a radical act in a world obsessed with maximum viable products and relentless efficiency. It says: Some things are worth doing precisely because they’re pointless.
Not every project needs to be on a roadmap. Not every skill application needs to generate revenue. Sometimes the most valuable thing you can build is something that makes people smile and think, “Wait, you can do that?”
Innovation doesn’t always come from a ticket. Sometimes it comes from scrambling between conference rooms as an organizer, fueled by cookies from Chicago, suddenly realizing that the same logic keeping a global database running can choreograph a perfect turn pattern.
Sometimes it comes from refusing to apologize for being technical and human. For loving PostgreSQL and dancing. For existing fully in the “Between Worlds” space instead of compartmentalizing yourself into acceptable professional fragments.
An Invitation to Dance
Our vision for pg_dance is absurd: A full-blown dance social at the next PostgreSQL conference. Contributors helping us optimize “spin” latency and add new moves to the schema.
It’s ridiculous. It’s unnecessary. It’s perfect.
So here’s my question for you: Where in your life are you holding back, waiting for permission? Where are you asking “Why?” when you should be asking “Why not?”
What would you build if you applied your highest professional skills to your deepest personal passions—not because it’s practical, but because it would be beautiful?
What worlds are you keeping separate that might create something extraordinary if you let them collide?
We spend so much of our lives optimizing our data, protecting our systems, scaling our infrastructure. All important work.
But maybe, just maybe, it’s time we started dancing with it.
The dance floor is open. The schema is normalized. The high-availability cluster is waiting.
Why not?
Want to join the madness? We’re looking for contributors to help make PostgreSQL the most rhythmic database in the world. Find pg_dance on GitHub and bring your own “Why not?” energy.
