We Thought It Was Fine
I don’t remember exactly when the backlog started becoming a problem. Maybe it was the third time a stakeholder changed their mind about a request we’d already scoped. Or when we moved yet another story to the “parking lot” because no one could agree on whether we still needed it. Or maybe it was just the slow build-up of ideas, tickets, and half-baked items that never really went away.
What I do know is that we ended up with a backlog full of... stuff. Some of it useful. Some of it once-relevant but now outdated. And some of it we were honestly too afraid to delete in case someone, somewhere, might come looking for it later.
We didn’t think it was unmanageable at first. There weren’t hundreds of items—maybe around 90 or so. That seemed reasonable. But sprint planning became guesswork. Tickets would resurface that none of us remembered writing. Some stories lacked any context, others had no owner, and a few had ambiguous titles like “Optimize flow” or “Check alerts.” Developers started relying on Slack threads for real priorities instead of referencing the backlog. QA wasn’t sure what to expect next. The backlog was technically there, but nobody trusted it anymore.
How It Spiraled
The irony? We’d already cleaned it once. But the same clutter crept back in. We weren’t careless—we were trying to be helpful. A stakeholder would mention a feature, and we’d log it. Then they’d pivot, and we’d quietly move it down the list or tag it for “future consideration.” Designs changed. Priorities shifted. Some stories aged out without anyone noticing. And little by little, what was supposed to be a tool to guide delivery became a repository for indecision.
What We Tried (That Actually Helped)
We didn’t do a full reset. No dramatic purge or Jira bonfire. But we did start asking better questions. Why is this story still in the backlog?
Do we know who it's for? If we built this tomorrow, would anyone care? What’s stopping us from deleting it? Sometimes we archived tickets. Other times, we rewrote them because there was still something valuable there—just not in the original form. And occasionally, reviewing a story revealed blockers or duplicated efforts we hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t fast or flawless, but it helped.
What We’re Still Learning
Backlogs rarely fall apart overnight. It happens slowly. A couple of placeholder stories here. A few outdated ideas there. Missed grooming sessions. Deferred decisions. Suddenly, you’re staring at a list no one fully understands.
We’re still figuring it out, but a few changes made a difference:
- Archiving anything untouched for three months
- Using a separate “idea board” for raw input
- Requiring a clear owner and purpose before a ticket gets added
- Accepting that backlog cleanup is a habit, not a one-time task
Some weeks it looks clean and aligned. Other weeks, it starts slipping again. But now we catch it early—and course-correct as a team.
Final Thought
If your backlog feels bloated, unclear, or like a list of forgotten intentions, you’re not alone. You don’t have to fix it all today. But one small question might help get things moving again:
“Are we actually using this the way we want to?”
That one question helped us reset. Still messy. Still learning. But the backlog is working again—and that’s what matters.
