Professional woodworkers rarely have to be reminded to sharpen their tools. Of course they know this.
The rest of us, on the other hand, regularly use digital tools we don’t understand, don’t maintain and haven’t optimized.
Sometimes, our lack of care in the choice and use of tools only wastes our time. Often, it actually degrades the quality of what we’re seeking to create.
If you’re not regularly getting better at your digital toolbox, you’re actually getting worse.
Authenticity is for amateurs.
We want the surgeon, the broadcaster or the musician to show up fully, as the best version of themselves.
We know you might be tired from an overnight shift, and authentically feel like phoning it in, but hey, this is the only aorta I’ve got, and I’d prefer it if you were the consistent, world-class surgeon you’re capable of being.
Authenticity is for friendships.
Professionals simply show up. Especially when they don’t feel like it.
Drowning is devastating, a tragic and painful way to go.
So much so that feeling like we’re drowning is a trigger, an overwhelming emotion that causes us to grasp, struggle and leave our best self behind.
It’s easy to experience this even when we’re out of the water. When the stakes are high and time is short, we can activate drowning mode, losing our focus, resilience, and generosity.
The ledge can be a useful way to talk ourselves out of the spiral.
If you’re in 8 feet of water, it’s easy to feel afraid. But once you realize that you’re only a few inches away from a ledge, one you can return to whenever you like, it’s possible to reset, to find your bearings.
It’s not that hard to imagine a ledge. Sure, the parts didn’t arrive on time, but our deadline isn’t for a few days, back to the ledge, let’s regroup and come up with a new plan. Yes, the project didn’t work, but our budget has enough slack in it that we can try again with a new project tomorrow.
The ledge is a combination of time and money. It’s the buffer between here and disaster. The ledge is a foundation, a place we can find our footing as we think about the next steps. And the ledge offers perspective, because we can realize that even if this moment feels momentous, it might not be.
Resilient project management and risk-taking requires investing in a ledge. When we put everything on the line and cut the timing to the absolute minimum, the stakes get higher and we expose ourselves to failure.
Part of the art of innovation is choosing projects we can afford to dance with.
And the daily emotional work is reminding ourselves that the ledge is right there. So we can refocus and go back to being our best.
Please be on the alert for:
Spam that includes your name, address, phone number and other personal details.
Phone calls that are from human-sounding bots that pretend to be from friends or trusted brands.
Job offers.
Video mashups that include AI-generated people that seem to be made just for you.
Security alerts that are actually precisely the opposite.
Links that sure look trustworthy, but go somewhere you don’t expect.
It makes me sad that people with skills spend their time building ever-more ornate scams. It also bums me out that the emails from this blog often end up in the spam folder, but spam somehow manages to make it to my inbox.
PS a few typos in yesterday’s post. Sorry. If you encounter a bad link or a typo, visit my blog for the latest, corrected version. Thanks.
Persistent, connected and kind.
Most visions of the internet in 1995 were about individuals interacting with content online. It turns out that the internet (inter plus net) is actually about connection. The apps and businesses that were most successful connected people–to ideas, to things or mostly, to each other.
The current range of AI feels like content creation. You can have an AI write your high school essay, draw you a picture or invent a recipe.
But perhaps history will repeat itself. Perhaps developers will realize that persistent knowledge of what came before and who needs help and connection is the next frontier.
(Alas, history may also repeat itself when venture backed companies build networks that are seductive and sticky, and then, once we depend on them, will intentionally make them worse to earn more profit–but perhaps we can, forewarned, guard against this).
We’re not far from many people spending their entire day with Bluetooth earbuds on, particularly as augmented reality gives us information audibly. And of course, if our ears are connected, the system knows what we’re saying and hearing.
We’re already living in a world where much of what we say and do is intermediated by our phones and keyboards. Again, the system knows.
So… what happens when the AI in our lives begins acting like a thoughtful, patient and trusted friend? Not just like the AI in the movie Her, but more focused on our networks and connections. Who’s trustworthy, talented, available or in need… It knows what’s happening now, but also what happened yesterday. Not just to us, but to those in our circle and the people they know as well…
You’re about to throw out an old board game from the attic. The AI whispers, “Hold a sec, I think a neighbor down the street has been looking for something just like that–want me to sell it to him?”
A company seeking RFPs invites all its suppliers to submit confidential overviews of their supply chain. An AI reads the material and creates Pareto optimal connections, building a confederation of several suppliers who can work together to build something faster and more efficiently than any could do alone.
Your fridge knows you love organic strawberries, and organizes 100 neighbors to buy a farmer’s entire crop, reducing waste and risk and cutting costs for everyone.
Three people are leaving a conference and they’re all calling a car to take them to the airport. Perhaps the AI offers a carpool.
We’re headed off to a community meeting, and we let the AI know that if someone there is hiring for the kind of job we’re good at, we’re open to a connection.
This is a level of intimacy, attention sharing and data that dwarfs anything that has come before, and it brings with it huge issues of permission, control and privacy.
I can think of a thousand ways that this power could be misused, manipulated and go terribly wrong. I have also seen the internet go wrong too. But this is only the beginning of the AI age, and it might help to find a north star, a standard for what happens when the connection machine works for us, instead of against us.
Most of us talk, some of us do it for a living.
When your voice is on the fritz, it can affect your entire body as well as the way you approach your day. I’ve read all 25+ of my audiobooks myself, and I used to be able to complete each one in a day or two. Now it takes months. I wanted to share some of what I’ve learned the hard way.
First, a hack: Grether’s pastilles are a miracle. Not cheap, worth it.
Next, if you’re encountering vocal challenges somewhat regularly, consider getting a voice coach.
If it’s chronic, go to an ENT specialist and get scoped. Don’t take steroids unless three different doctors confirm you need them.
One cause of persistent vocal issues could be posture. I’ve found great success with in-person help from a coach certified in the Alexander Technique. It’s not invasive and sort of fun.
But here’s the latest thing I’ve had great results from. It’s free, easy and a little silly, and it really works. The official name for it is a semi-occluded vocal tract exercise, and you can do it two ways:
Get a straw and a tall glass of water, filled about three inches deep. You’re not going to be drinking the water.
First thing: Blow bubbles. Do it calmly and slowly and consistently for a full long breath.
Experiment with changing the shape of your mouth as you do. It’s lovely.
Second thing, which is surprisingly tricky at first: Blow bubbles while you’re humming.
[Thanks to Andrew Keltz for the insight.]
Feel better.
The difference between ‘buy now’ and ‘bye now’ is very thin.
Sometimes, when we push very hard for a commitment, we break the trust we’ve earned.
For a while, you might not notice the broken trust, because we’re encouraged to keep pushing, treating every individual as a walking ATM, not a relationship to be nurtured and a person to be helped.
Soon, though, you run out of the gullible and all you’re left with is distrust.
The AI driven voice mail system said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you.” Of course, there is no “I” and by most definitions of sorry, it’s not.
But it made me feel better.
The overworked and slightly bitter front desk person who was the frontline flotsam in a poorly designed system couldn’t be bothered. Even though the person they worked for was cancelling the appointment, and I had just spent ten minutes returning their call through a maze of badly designed prompts and it was a hassle to reschedule, they couldn’t/didn’t/wouldn’t say, “I’m sorry.”
After all, they didn’t cancel the appointment or design the system.
“Sorry” doesn’t have to be an admission of guilt or acceptance of fault. It could simply be the kind way one human acknowledges to another human that things aren’t ideal right now.
The magic of this simple word is that it can make both people feel better.
It looks like this:
Which do we measure the most, spend the most obtaining and argue about most often? We might have it backwards. HT Russ Ackoff.
Bananas are (slightly) radioactive. The banana equivalent dose (BED) is a measurement of radiation. It’s definitely not enough to hurt you.
When we think about risk, the BED is a useful way to find perspective. Is the exposure this new thing will cause on the order of a banana? If so, perhaps we shouldn’t worry about it so much. A chest x ray might be like eating 100 bananas… it gives us a scale we can work with.
Driving a car is far more dangerous than being on an airplane. The Honda Civic dose might be a helpful way to think about the risk of a crash.
And far more people are injured or killed in collisions with deer and moose compared to sharks. The Moose equivalent dose for exposure to wild animals might be worth considering.
Finally, and most salient, the chances that you will experience significant long-term damage from wearing the wrong color shoes to fourth grade, or by asking a dumb question after a presentation are lower than being injured by a pumpkin. And just imagining the pumpkin equivalent dose makes it hard to take ourselves too seriously.
