We had a UAT plan ready to go months before it was scheduled; the actual scripting would be assigned to the financial department. Unfortunately, the archaic consolidation process we were about to replace resulted in long, tedious workdays for our accountants and a vacation-scheduling process that was so complex it was virtually dysfunctional. Everyone in the financial department was totally slammed, making it difficult to get volunteers.

We held several meetings with the controller, during which we specified the extent of his team's responsibilities. Ultimately he signed off on the UAT plan, assigning leadership to his trusted VP. I was relegated to adviser status, which was fine with me; I had plenty to do on the code.

Producing test scripts was harder than anticipated. Nasty e-mails went back and forth as accountants desperately ducked responsibility for developing the script, writing documentation, or coming up with a plan for the tests. As the deadline loomed closer, I met with the controller late one night to inform him that UAT might be weeks behind schedule. To my surprise, he seemed unconcerned with the delay.

The week before UAT was scheduled to start, and only minutes before the final UAT status meeting, a colleague called me (cell phone to cell phone) to let me know that the controller was planning to hang me out to dry. I was going to be the official fall guy for missing the deadline! I quickly printed copies of the UAT plan the controller had signed off on and walked into the meeting with adrenaline pumping. The controller, his VP, and 10 other stakeholders were already there, looking irked. I realized that the controller had probably already told them the delay was my fault.

I stepped to the whiteboard and wrote the letters "U, A, T" in a vertical stack: