Testing is a performance, not an artifact.

Artifacts may be produced before, during, or after the act of testing. Whatever they are, they are not tests. They may be test instructions, test results, or test tools. They cannot be tests.

Note: I am speaking a) authoritatively about how we use terms in Rapid Testing Methodology, b) non-authoritatively of my best knowledge of how testing is thought of more broadly within the Context-Driven school, and c) of my belief about how anyone, anywhere should think of testing if they want a clean and powerful way to talk about it.

I may informally say “I created a test.” What I mean by that is that I designed an experience, or I made a plan for a testing event. That plan itself is not the test, anymore than a picture of a car is a car. Therefore, strictly speaking, the only way to create a test is to perform a test. As Michael Bolton likes to say, there’s a world of difference between sheet music and a musical performance, even though we might commonly refer to either one as “music.” Consider these sentences: “The music at the symphony last night was amazing.” vs. “Oh no, I left the music on my desk at home.”

We don’t always have to speak strictly, but we should know how and know why we might want to.

Why can’t a test be an artifact?

Because artifacts don’t think or learn in the full human sense of that word, that’s why, and thinking is central to the test process. So to claim that an artifact is a test is like wearing a sock puppet on your hand and claiming that it’s a little creature talking to you. That would be no more than you talking to yourself, obviously, and if you removed yourself from that equation the puppet wouldn’t be a little creature, would it? It would be a decorated sock lying on the floor. The testing value of an artifact can be delivered only in concert with an appropriately skilled and motivated tester.

With procedures or code you can create a check. See here for a detailed look at the difference between checking and testing. Checking is part of testing, of course. Anyone who runs checks that fail knows that the next step is figuring out what the failures mean. A tester must also evaluate whether the checks are working properly and whether there are enough of them, or too many, or the wrong kind. All of that is part of the performance of testing.

When a “check engine” light goes on in your car, or any strange alert, you can’t know until you go to a mechanic whether that represents a big problem or a little problem. The check is not testing. The testing is more than the check itself.

But I’ve seen people follow test scripts and only do what the test document tells them to do!

Have you really witnessed that? I think the most you could possibly have witnessed is…


a tester who appeared to do “only” what the test document tells him, while constantly and perhaps unconsciously adjusting and reacting to what’s happening with the system under test. (Such a tester may find bugs, but does so by contributing interpretation, judgment, and analysis; by performing.)


a tester who necessarily missed a lot of bugs that he could have found, either because the test instructions were far too complex, or far too vague, or there was far too little of it (because that documentation is darn expensive) and the tester failed to perform as a tester to compensate.

In either case, the explicitly written or coded “test” artifact can only be an inanimate sock, or a sock puppet animated by the tester. You can choose to suffer without a tester, or to cover up the presence of the tester. Reality will assert itself either way.

What danger could there be in speaking informally about writing “tests?”

It’s not necessarily dangerous to speak informally. However, a possible danger is that non-testing managers and clients of our work will think of testers as “test case writers” instead of as people who perform the skilled process of testing. This may cause them to treat testers as fungible commodities producing “tests” that are comprised solely of explicit rules. Such a theory of testing– which is what we call the Factory school of testing thought– leads to expensive artifacts that uncover few bugs. Their value is mainly in that they look impressive to ignorant people.

If you are talking to people who fully understand that testing is a performance, it is fine to speak informally. Just be on your guard when you hear people say “Where are your tests?” “Have you written any tests?” or “Should you automate those tests?” (I would rather hear “How do you test this?” “Where are you focusing you testing?” or “Are you using tools to help your testing?”)

Thanks to Michael Bolton and Aleksander Simic for reviewing and improving this post.