One Habit That Made My Code Easier to Read

I used to open my own code and feel tired before reading the first function.

Nothing was broken.
Tests passed.
The app worked.

Still, I had to slow down.
I reread lines.
I traced variables with my finger on the screen.

That quiet friction was always there. The kind you notice only after writing code for a few years.

At first, I blamed time.

“I wrote this months ago.”
“Of course I don’t remember it.”

But then it happened with code I wrote last week.
Sometimes with code I wrote yesterday.

That’s when it became clear.

The problem wasn’t memory.
It was readability.

Not in a theoretical sense. In a very practical one.

This article is about one habit that made my code easier to read.
Not overnight.
Not magically.
But in a way that stuck.

Why working code can still be hard to read

Most developers reach a point where they can make things work.

APIs connect.
State updates correctly.
Logic flows from top to bottom.

That’s where I was.

But readable code is a different skill. And nobody explains that clearly.

Readable code is not about syntax.
It’s not about patterns.
It’s not about how smart the solution looks.

Readable code is about how quickly another human can understand what’s happening without effort.

That human is often future you.

I didn’t realize this early on. I thought readability was a bonus. Something you improve later when there’s time.

There is never time.

The habit I kept skipping

The habit itself was simple.

Before moving to the next line of code, I asked myself one question:

“If someone opens this file cold, will they understand why this exists?”

Not how it works.
Why it exists.

At first, I skipped this question.

It felt slow.
It felt unnecessary.
It felt like something senior developers talk about in blog posts, not something you do when shipping features.

I told myself:

• The logic is obvious.
• The function name is fine.
• Anyone can figure it out.

Most of the time, that wasn’t true.

The moment this habit exposed a problem

The habit didn’t come from a book. It came from frustration.

I was debugging a small issue. Nothing dramatic.
A condition wasn’t behaving as expected.

The file wasn’t large. Around 40 lines.

Still, I kept scrolling up and down.
I lost context again and again.

Then I noticed something uncomfortable.

I didn’t remember why this logic existed.

I remembered writing it.
I remembered the deadline.
I remembered the pressure.

But I didn’t remember the reason.

That meant something important.

The code only made sense in my head at the moment I wrote it.

Once that mental context was gone, the code turned into a puzzle.

I stopped and rewrote part of it.
I didn’t change the logic.
I clarified the intent.

The bug became obvious.

What actually changed when I adopted the habit

This habit didn’t make my code shorter.
It didn’t make it clever.

It did something more useful.

It forced me to slow my thinking just enough to expose gaps.

When I asked, “Will someone understand why this exists?”, I often realized I couldn’t explain it cleanly myself.

That usually meant one of three things:

• The logic was doing too much
• The naming was unclear or misleading
• The structure didn’t match the idea

Readable code starts in your head.
This habit surfaces confusion early, while it’s cheap to fix.

A real before and after example

This is simplified, but real.

Before

if (user && user.isActive && user.role !== 'guest') {
  if (hasAccess(user, resource)) {
    performAction(resource)
  }
}

This code works.
There’s nothing technically wrong with it.

But reading it feels heavier than it should.

Questions pop up immediately:

• Why check isActive here?
• Why exclude guests?
• What kind of access is this?

After

const canPerformAction =
  user &&
  user.isActive &&           // inactive users should not trigger actions
  user.role !== 'guest' &&   // guests have read-only access
  hasAccess(user, resource)  // permission check for this resource

if (canPerformAction) {
  performAction(resource)
}

Nothing fancy changed.

But now the intent is visible:

• This code is about permission
• Each condition has a reason
• The decision has a name

The eye moves slower.
The mind moves faster.

That’s readable code.

Why this habit works when you’re in a hurry

A common objection is time.

“I don’t have time for this.”
“I just need to ship.”

I used to believe that too.

What changed my mind was noticing where time actually goes:

• Debugging unclear logic
• Reviewing my own pull requests
• Explaining code during handoffs
• Rebuilding context after interruptions

This habit moves effort earlier.

You spend a few seconds while writing.
You save minutes or hours while reading.

And code is read far more than it’s written.

How this habit changed my code reviews

Before this habit, code reviews felt tense.

Not because of feedback.
Because of misunderstanding.

Comments like:

• “Why is this here?”
• “Can we remove this?”
• “What’s the edge case?”

After applying this habit consistently, the tone changed.

Reviews became:

• “Clear intent.”
• “Easy to follow.”
• “Nice separation.”

Not because reviewers became kinder.

Because the code explained itself.

Readable code reduces back and forth.
That’s a real productivity gain.

How I apply this habit day to day

I don’t sit and reflect deeply.

The habit shows up in small moments:

• Before naming a function
• Before adding a condition
• Before committing a change

I pause for a few seconds.

I imagine someone opening this file without context.
No meeting notes.
No Slack messages.

Just the code.

If the “why” isn’t obvious, I fix it.

That might mean:

• Renaming a variable
• Extracting a condition
• Adding a short comment

Not paragraphs.
Often, one line is enough.

What didn’t help me

I tried other approaches.

Strict style rules.
More linting.
Reading books and trying to apply everything.

None of that fixed the core problem.

Those tools help consistency.
They don’t create clarity.

Clarity comes from intent being visible.

This habit directly targets that.

Why this habit scales with experience

Junior developers focus on making code work.
Experienced developers focus on making code understandable.

This habit helps bridge that gap naturally.

You don’t need more knowledge to apply it.
You need more honesty.

If you can’t explain why a piece of code exists, that’s a signal.
Not a failure.

The quiet benefit nobody talks about

Something unexpected happened after a few months.

I started writing less code.

Not because I was lazy.
Because unnecessary logic stood out earlier.

When intent is clear, waste becomes obvious.

Readable code reduces clutter without effort.

Readable code is not about showing skill

It’s about respect.

Respect for:

• Your future self
• Your teammates
• Your own attention

This habit taught me that clarity is not a trait.
It’s a choice you make repeatedly.

A simple way to start today

You don’t need to refactor everything.

Pick one file.
One function.

Before adding new logic, ask:

“Will someone understand why this exists?”

If the answer is “maybe,” pause.

That pause is the habit. (I'm trying to improve another React habit next week).

A quiet takeaway

Most unreadable code isn’t written by careless developers.
It’s written by busy ones.

This habit doesn’t fight busyness.
It works with it.

It leaves small signals for the next reader.

Often, that reader is you.

That alone makes it worth keeping.