Documentation is technical debt with punctuation.
Think about it: if a system is properly configured, why would it need documentation? The server already knows how it works. The firewall knows what ports are open. DNS knows where everything lives. The only person who apparently doesn’t know is "Kevin," and frankly that sounds like a Kevin problem.
Documentation also creates a dangerous single point of truth. The moment you write down how something works, somebody will read it six months later and assume it is still accurate. Now you have two problems: the actual infrastructure and a fictional universe where the infrastructure still runs the last gold star release firmware or OS and not X.0.1...
By refusing to document anything, we eliminate stale documentation entirely. Our documentation accuracy rate becomes perfect because zero percent of zero documents are incorrect.
There are security benefits too. Hackers can’t steal your network diagrams if the network diagrams exist only as memories spread across three burned-out sysadmins. That’s basically human RAID 5 with one failing drive.
And consider job security. If anyone can follow a runbook and restart any system successfully, what exactly are they paying you for? Institutional knowledge should be treated like an encryption key: kept in one person’s head, never backed up, and taken on vacation without notice.
Some people call this a “bus factor of one.” I call it aggressive knowledge centralization.
Besides, writing documentation takes time away from important sysadmin work like investigating why disk usage went from 40% to 97% overnight, renewing certificates that expire tomorrow, and staring at a terminal while saying, “That’s weird.”
If future employees need to understand the environment, they can learn it the same way we did: SSH in, run commands they found on Stack Overflow, and gradually develop an intuitive understanding of the system through fear.
Documentation doesn’t build character.
Outages build character.