So, you've come to the realization that everything will eventually break down. You've considered all possible factors, including your radio relay line being blocked by a festival of flying balloons and a new fire at one of your providers.
Now, it's time to write the DRP itself. No, it's not that extensive troubleshooting section you wrote earlier. The DRP, in essence, is like a red envelope containing instructions such as:
- Pick up the blue phone receiver.
- Dictate to the operator: "Wish - Rusty - Seventeen - Dawn - Furnace - Nine - Kind-hearted - Homecoming - One - Cargo Car."
- Wait for the reply tone.
Even if your team consists exclusively of top experts in their field, the document must be written to be understandable to someone with an IQ no higher than 80. Real-world scenarios have shown that in moments of severe outages, an engineer under stress often doesn’t just fail to rectify the situation but might actually make a barely alive system definitively dead.
Therefore, our documents almost always start the same way:
"A brief high-level guide for the default scenario. What follows will be a lot of text and detailed variants. Let's start with the basic sequence:- Brew some tea and stop panicking.
- Notify the responsible parties."
And yes, tea is mandatory. The dead system won’t get any worse in five minutes, but the risk of an engineer frantically pulling every lever they know is significantly lower. The last item sounds like,
"Pull out a cold Guinness from the fridge (to be kept in emergency supplies for disasters). DRP complete."