We notice the current most when we’re headed against it. It’s easy to take our advantage for granted when we’re headed the other way and it’s helping us.
Related: When I’m on my bike, I generally hope that drivers will cut me some slack–a lesson that’s easy to forget when I’m the one who’s driving.
Data becomes information when at least one of two related things are true:
If you’re not getting one of these things, then the data is simply noise. A distraction that wastes our time and confuses us.
Breaking news is up to the recipient.
The reason that most memos, speeches and edicts fall flat is simple: we get stuck on the idea that we’re talking to a crowd.
When we’re speaking or writing, the crowd is just an illusion. What’s actually happening is that there is one person over there, another over there, repeated again and again until it’s easier to imagine it’s a mass audience.
The alternative method is simple: find one person, exactly one, and write to them, allowing the others to listen in.
Embrace the tone of voice, body posture, breathing style and punctuation you’d use on just one person. You and me, here and now.
If it’s not going to work for one person, why do think it will work on a crowd?
AI models primarily use a text or speech interface.
Type what you want and it types back. Say what you want it talks back.
This is fancy, a breakthrough, a little showy. And if the user brings the right skills, it’s an extraordinary way to interact.
But the AI UX people (the few that are paying attention, not simply racing to keep up with the engineers) are missing an opportunity.
People prefer multiple choice to essay exams. Go to a restaurant without a menu and people get stressed. They either order something simple or are filled with regret about what could have been.
When the AI prompts us (instead of us prompting the AI), faster progress is possible. When the AI suggests four or five appropriate paths, we’re more likely to consider more options. Building that sort of UX in from the start makes it more likely we’ll expect it.
When all you have is a hammer, everything is a nail. When we design a menu, especially one that changes with context, we get a chance to challenge the user to create variety, possibility and progress.
PS if you’re not using the latest AI models, you’re falling behind. I’m seeing very senior people who are ignoring what’s happening, and the gap is widening. It’s probably worth some time to play with Claude and others.
Not all customers are fans. And not all fans are the sort of customers you can thrive with.
Cadres of supporters often migrate into one of two camps…
The generous stans (a more positive riff from a twenty-year-old Eminem track), are there for the work and the change being made, all the time. It’s a form of support, but more than that, identity. Tribes with leaders, making a difference supporting each other and spreading the word. (These are the ‘true’ fans.)
And the cranky fans, who know that they have found a place where they will be heard, and who use that opportunity to split hairs and find something to be disappointed with. They are cranky because they care, but they’re also cranky because it gives them power.
They’ll happily pirate the software, argue about a launch strategy, demand comp tickets to the event and reserve their conversations for other insiders, instead of spreading the word. They point out that the galvanic isolation in the new breakthrough product could have been even more sophisticated, or that the unreleased album is much better than this one… One of the most common complaints is that the hypothetical perfect imagined by a fan is so much better than the actually productive and powerful good created for them. “I’m your best customer” is what they might say, when they’re not at all.
Their status comes from their insider knowledge and longevity combined with an air of aloof superiority. (These fans are sometimes called employees, voters or critics).
One reason for the split is that some creators and small businesses respond to early fan response by doing things to the audience (cashing out) as opposed to working to do things with and for them (leading). It puts some fans on the defensive, even if this particular creator has made the difficult decision to stick with the mission.
When Kevin Kelly coined the term 1,000 True Fans fifteen years ago, he was describing more than fandom. He was articulating how the long tail could become a generative, resilient force for creators to create, and for fans to benefit. Without a mass market driving production, we could move toward a world of delightful niches, where small companies could thrive serving (relatively) small audiences.
This is the unheralded force behind important non-profits, tech companies, and creators of all kinds. Not mattering a little to the masses, but mattering a lot to a focused group, one that supports the work and spreads the word.
Choose your fans, choose your future.
I’m regularly amazed and delighted at how thoughtful and connected the readers of my work are. I learn from you every day, and I’m thrilled at the leadership my readers bring to their communities. I couldn’t ask for a more engaged, thoughtful and generous audience.
At the same time, I see small businesses and creators that I care about struggling, simply because their fans are not only taking them for granted, they’re becoming entitled and insular as well. When fans commit to a movement and help it grow, they benefit. Not every group is going to become a movement, but if we don’t bring others along, we’re not going to make a change happen. Movements move.
The problem with taking something we care about for granted is that we don’t get to do it for long.
All sufficiently advanced technology is now widespread.
Batman used to have gadgets that gave him an advantage over his adversaries.
And Henry Ford had machines that allowed him to produce items far cheaper than the competition.
Now, almost all technology magic is widely available and cheap. Technology has been the engine of cultural and economic change, and it’s no longer concentrated in the hands of a few.
A fast car isn’t rare, good drivers are.
Alas, this is the wrong question for a leader or manager to ask.
It’s more productive to wonder, “how do we create the conditions for our people to get to where they’re heading?”
“What should I do next?”
Not next year or for the rest of my life. Right now.
The apparently trivial choice–whether or not to open an email, make a phone call or stand up to stretch. The endless list of options, some not even consciously considered, that we work through a thousand times a day.
Sum them up, and these millions of tiny decisions become the life we’ve chosen. One next at a time.
This is an understandable sentiment. As jobs push people to be automatons and often offer little in the way of respect, it’s easy to quietly quit.
But perhaps, they’re not paying you enough to not care.
Spending your days, day after day, not caring is a tragedy.
They might not deserve your focus and effort, but you do.
Tactics are tempting. We can lean into them, invest, build our skills and count on results.
Strategies are more elusive. And a mismatch between strategy and tactics leads to wasted effort.
In this 2 x 2 grid, you can see how easy it is to get stuck.
The worst outcome is a misguided strategy supported by poorly executed tactics. This is the muck… you’re not sure where you’re going, and you’re not going anywhere in particular.
The top left and bottom right are a bit better, tempting even, but ultimately non-productive.
If you are showing up with skill and effort and executing perfectly, all in support of a strategy that doesn’t make sense, you’ve wasted your effort.
And if your strategy is brilliant but the work you’re doing doesn’t deliver on it, the effort is just as wasted.
Perhaps your strategy is to be “familiar to strangers,” and you decide to use social media to get the word out and reach the masses. It’s possible your persistent and consistent efforts will lead to millions of views. But if the product or service you’re offering doesn’t lend itself to casual interactions and impulse purchases, your strategy won’t work, regardless of how well your team delivered on the tactics.
When the world changes, and it does, the tactics we depend on don’t always support the strategy we need.
