Collaborating on documents and projects has never been easier, which is why we screw it up so often. Sharing and interacting with intent will save you heartache and wasted time. Some things to consider:
Naming: Begin by naming your file with a digit and concept and a date. Something like “1 Book Presentation October 24”.
And then, with each substantial edit, hit SAVE AS and increment the number. It’s very clear that “3 Book Presentation October 24” is a more recent edit.
Never name a file with “Final” because, as we all know, final is an elusive construct.
Who has the conn? While some cloud-based services like Google docs do a pretty good job of allowing shared edits, it pays to announce who has the controlling, official document. When two people edit different versions of a document at the same time, all that work is wasted. “Cheryl, it’s yours now, I won’t touch it until you send it back.”
Suggested edits: In Google docs, the default is to edit the document (the little pencil). You can switch this (top right corner) to the option for ‘suggesting.’ The beauty of this is that it allows the controlling editor to see the changes that are being offered and to accept or reject them. It creates a more thoughtful flow to creation. Endless conversations via the comments panel almost always lose important information.
A shared doc is better than an email thread: If you know that you’re working toward something, start a Google doc and outline the proposition. Then invite others to edit and improve it. This will lead to a final agenda or outline or proposal. The problem with email threads with multiple contributors is that nuance is lost and contradictions persist.
The original format: The original document is better than a PDF, and a PDF is better than a screenshot. If you start with a spreadsheet, take a screenshot, put the image in a Powerpoint and then email it to someone as a PDF, you’ve pretty much guaranteed that editing it going forward is going to be a mess. Always include a folder of the underlying documents, properly named.
I’d ask for edits and improvements to this post, but this is the wrong format for that. Feel free to copy and paste and share… you have the conn.
We might even have a chance to choose our group. Hipsters do this, hippies do that. People in this town wear this outfit, students at this school hang out here on Saturdays…
We might be born into a culture. Less agency, but just as much identity.
There’s a built-in status quo here. Most groups want stability and the peace of mind that comes from being in sync. That’s why we join a group in the first place.
Of course, every culture also has neophiliacs, folks that find status and affiliation in embracing the new. They are most comfortable with novelty, not tradition.
Ideas spread from the ones who embrace the new to the folks who want to stay in sync.
But some cultures change more quickly than others. Some stagnate, others accelerate.
When change happens too fast, the culture gets stressed.
One factor in the speed of cultural change is the control of the media and distribution.
In an authoritarian environment, gatekeepers and censorship ensure that the culture changes very slowly. This includes most scientific journals, large organizations and spectrum-limited forms of media. This is a country with state-controlled media, but it’s also a community where the people who are most fearful of change also have power.
If there are only a few TV channels or radio stations, the programmers are going to become conservative, because they don’t want to lose market share. If the cost of being seen as too edgy is perceived as very high, the gatekeepers will stay in the center.
The Billboard Top 40 and pop music exists because a jukebox couldn’t hold every record, and radio stations didn’t want to risk losing a listener who wanted to hear what everyone else was listening to.
The other factor is the algorithm. How is attention parceled out?
You can probably see where this is heading.
The newspaper and the radio station determined the algorithm. A few surprising items, but mostly, the center.
And then social media arrived. And they intentionally turned the algorithm inside out.
They tweak what gets promoted and spread based on what is likely to grab our attention, to play with our emotions, to generate outrage or surprise. They do this without regard for truth or the stress that the idea might cause. They simply want to drive short-term attention.
The fringe. That’s where outrage and fear and novelty live.
And so creators of content responded. They discovered that in order to get the attention they craved, they had to run from the center and toward the edges. Even if they didn’t believe in what they were saying, or especially then.
The fringe, amplified, stops being the fringe.
So the next wave of fringe must be even fringier.
This is a fundamental shift in the world as we know it. One where a flywheel of ever more challenging cultural change continues to arrive, without balance.
It’s no wonder people feel ill at ease. Instead of the ship adding ballast to ensure a smooth journey, the crew is working hard to make the journey as rocky as possible.
It doesn’t come up when a school talks to students, or a conductor asks the orchestra. It doesn’t come up when the gym owner surveys potential members or when a chef or playwright thinks about building something new.
But of course, that’s what we remember.
That’s what changes us. Tension is the feeling we experience just before we grow.
Ironically, it’s what we seek, at the very same time we avoid it.
The first step in building a successful and elegant strategy is to see the systems that are part of our lives.
October is a fine month to take a moment to look closely at one: the system that brings us cheap chocolate.
Like most systems, it’s largely invisible. The people in it don’t mean to do harm, they’re simply making choices that feel like their best option. And most of all, the system works to defend itself, to create culture that defends the status quo.
The giant chocolate companies want cocoa beans to be a commodity. They don’t want to worry about origin or yield–they simply want to buy indistinguishable cheap cacao. In fact, the buyers at these companies feel like they have no choice but to push for mediocre beans at cut rate prices, regardless of the human cost.
As a result, trees are bred not for flavor or resilience, but for yield. Farming methods ignore regeneration and are maximized for short-term output. And most tragically, labor (especially children) is exploited and suffers. The farmer, feeling powerless, feels as though they have no choice but to make what the buyer wants.
The cheap beans are made into reliable, cheap chocolate. Chocolate that doesn’t melt in the store, or in your hands. Chocolate that’s sweet, not delicious. But cheap. The merchant stocking the shelves feels as though they have little choice–they buy the usual kind, the one that’s well promoted and inexpensive.
And this convenient, prevalent chocolate becomes the normal kind. The regular kind. The kind kids get on Halloween, in bulk.
It’s easier, sometimes, to just go with the system.
We’re not stuck in traffic, we are traffic. If we see a system, we can work to change it. Our strategy can use elements of the system to alter it.
The chocolate we buy at the supermarket furthers the goals of the system, and directly harms the lives of the impoverished farmers who grow the cacao.
Or consider the chocolate from French Broad. They were hit hard by the hurricane in North Carolina, but their warehouse survived. A few bars purchased from them make an impact.
The folks at Original Beans offer a Porcelana bar that is, honestly, too good to share with your friends, and certainly over the top for a trick or treater.
There’s an adorable store in New York that can ship you ethical and delicious bars from all over the world… proof that the system can change.
The team at Tony’s have figured out how to make an honest, fair trade bar that’s also in your local market at a good price.
And consider Chocolate Rebellion, a group of Caribbean and African producers coordinated by Gillian Goddard of Sun Eater.
PS I’m going live with Lawren and Shawn at 10:15 ET this morning. We’ll be taking your questions about chocolate and about systems, and the recording will be archived. Here’s the link.
It’s free, and it works better when you become a part of it.
Find the others. Connect, inspire and lead. It’s a great excuse to organize some friends and colleagues and have a conversation that can make a difference.
The site we’re working with has upgraded the software and it’s easier to use now. There are more than a thousand people signed up already, and I hope you can join us.
There are three kinds of costs that people get confused about, but understanding them, really understanding them–in your bones–unlocks opportunity.
Opportunity cost: If you eat the cupcakes, you can’t also eat the brownies. Every time we choose to do something, we’re choosing not to do something else.
Sunk costs: If you’ve invested time or money in something (a law degree, a piece of real estate, a bag of chips) that money is gone. All you have left is what you bought, and that is a gift… a gift from your former self. You don’t have to accept the gift if it’s no longer useful to you. Using a gift still has real opportunity cost, and if it’s keeping you from doing something better, walk away.
Marginal cost: How much extra does this decision cost? For a subscriber, the marginal cost of watching one more show on Netflix is zero. The service costs the same regardless of how many shows you watch. On the other hand, the marginal cost of a tuna sandwich is equal to what it costs to replace the ingredients. It makes sense to prefer things with a lower marginal cost if everything else is similar.
I’ve never encountered a person who was fully rational in making decisions on any of these three sorts of costs. That’s okay. But let’s do it on purpose.
The Tofflers explained that Future Shock kicks in when the world changes faster than we’re ready for. We react instead of respond, and often shut down in the face of too much of the new.
When our world changes (and it always does, more now than ever) we have four choices. And only one of them is helpful.
DENY: We can pretend that the world isn’t changing, that nothing is different and angrily push back on any evidence to the contrary. We can see the change as a personal affront, and insist that it’s not real or doesn’t matter.
GIVE UP: The contrary position is seductive as well. We can embrace our perceived powerlessness and simply stop trying.
CONTROL: While some understate their power, others overstate it. We can attempt to institute draconian measures, shortcut existing systems and demand that things go the way we want them to. You can hold back the ocean for a little while, but it always finds a way. It’s hard to make the tide against the law.
RESPOND: And this path is the resilient one, the one that not only makes it more likely we’ll achieve something but also engages us in productive work. Responders see and acknowledge the situation, then use their resources to make an impact. It never works out exactly the way we hope, but it usually works out better than any of the other paths.
Deciding to fix a big dent in a car isn’t perplexing. It’s an easy choice. There’s a huge dent, get it fixed.
It’s the little dents that are a dilemma.
But not fixing little dents means that pretty soon, we’re driving a car that we’re not happy with. Either that, or we define happiness as, “okay with little dents.”
Fixing little dents is a commitment to quality, a constant quest against entropy as we seek to deliver with consistency. And living with dents is a way to focus on what really matters, not on what can be fixed.
This is the story of every new software innovation, and in fact, just about everything engineers have ever created.
The first Wright Bros. plane just barely flew.
The first version of VisiCalc was just barely useful.
The earliest bridges were shaky, unreliable and made of vines.
The secret of successful product development isn’t an innovation that bursts forth as a polished and finished product. Instead, it’s sticking with something that is almost useless, nurturing and sharing and improving until we can’t imagine living without it.
[Worth noting that we do the same thing when we learn to walk or to speak a new language–or even visit a new community.]
October 6, 2024
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