The abbot Ruh Cheen called young master Zjing on his monitor for their weekly teleconference.

Ruh Cheen said, “As of today, our monks have completed four sprints according to my plan: no design documents, no code reviews, no meddling by the masters. Have you heard the good news?”

Zjing bowed. “Velocity is at an all-time high, and morale is better than ever.”

“I plan to inform the Abbess this evening,” said Ruh Cheen. “After which I will suggest that the entire temple adopt this practice. But fear not! I’m certain she will find some new task for the masters to perform.”

Zjing called old master Banzen on her monitor, to report what had transpired.

Banzen said, “Yesterday Ruh Cheen ordered the monks not to brush or floss. Today he observed that not a single monk has lost any teeth. From this he has concluded that oral hygiene is worthless. I fear that only one thing will change his mind.”

The young master was aghast. “If I wait for gum disease to bring a patient to my chair, his mouth may be rotten past my ability to mend.”

“Yet what is our alternative, young master?” asked Banzen. “Force everyone to clean their teeth at knife-point?”

“It has worked for us in the past,” said Zjing.

Banzen sighed. “Has it, I wonder? For we do not know which of our monks are conscientious, and which are merely cowards. I am old; my knife-hand is unsteady, and I cannot be everywhere at once. When I depart this earth, I must know that I leave behind a temple—not a crowd of aimless monks destined for toothless grins.”