Over the last decade, I’ve watched AI challenge — and augment — humanity in astonishing ways. Every few years, a new innovation seems to raise the same questions: can we compute human intelligence? Can our labor be automated? Who owns these systems and their training data? How will this technology reshape society? Yet there is one question I rarely hear asked: how will AI change our understanding of ourselves?
This article—from the ever-interesting halls of The Long Now Foundation—got me thinking about intelligence from a new direction: instead of a tool or collaborator for us, a new way to learn about ourselves.
In 2007, on my first trip to New York City, I grabbed a brand-new DSLR camera and photographed all the fonts I was supposed to love. I admired American Typewriter in all of the I <3 NYC logos, watched Akzidenz Grotesk and Helvetica fighting over the subway signs, and even caught an occasional appearance of the flawlessly-named Gotham, still a year before it skyrocketed in popularity via Barack Obama’s first campaign.
But there was one font I didn’t even notice, even though it was everywhere around me.
Last year in New York, I walked over 100 miles and took thousands of photos of one and one font only.
What. WHAT? WAT?! Words fail me… there are 600 photos in this article. I couldn’t stop staring at the technology parts, and keyboards—so much of that reminds me of my youngling days. I leaned in for the photography, which is gorgeous macrophotography. And fell headlong into the nostalgia.
As someone who writes a lot about knowledge work in the digital age, I’m fascinated by this model of cooking, which I define as follows: a workflow designed to enable someone with a high-return skill to spend most of their time applying that skill, without distraction.
For a decade I’ve been aware of this point. I’m, basically, a one-person creative process. If one leans into this way of thinking, then you immediately want to start figuring out how to not do all the other things. Which is fine if I were a one-person business process. But I am not. I’m not only a creator of valuable (in some sense other than money) work. I’m also the person who is nourished, enabling said creative work, by the random other parts. Whichever way you think of it though, Newport makes interesting points.
Well this is interesting! I’ve been adding time-references to quotes when I include them in show notes. I simply put the <minute>:<seconds> after the quote.
Today I realized that Overcast auto-magically makes those time codes clickable — touching the time code jumps play right to that point!
This is amazingly great for the listener.
For years there’s been discussion about chapters in podcast episodes. They are supported, yes. But there’s complicated to actually set up. The original way, is to embed the information within the mp3 audio file—that requires either special software which does just that, or your DAW has to support marking the chapters as you’re editing. Either way, a bit tedious.
But if this little feature of link-up-time-references in the notes works across more players… this is HUGE.
So: Take a look at your favorite player. Find an episode (any episode of Podtalk, for example) that has time-references in the show notes… and tell me if it works in your player.
There’s two different main purposes for routines, and advice-givers mix them up. They lump these two quite different things under “morning routine” and it causes trouble when you try to design your own.
Partly, I include this because The Whippet is a sometimes quirky, often insightful, but always interesting little missive that I enjoy following/reading.
But also, WAIT WAT! …how is it I’ve never heard this idea/distinction before? Scroll down about 2/3 in issue № 185 to find this neat stuff about habits.
How can podcasters build meaningful relationships that expand their reach, create new opportunities, and grow their shows—without relying on promotion or algorithms?
A five-step method helps you land dream collaborations by being helpful, not pushy.
[One little shift?] That’s it. If I hadn’t have gone to that event, if I hadn’t have just dumped my coat and helped direct people, if I hadn’t offered to help for free, if I hadn’t got to know the team, if I hadn’t, if I’d asked for the wrong thing or too much or too, I don’t know if I’d got the ask wrong, any one of those things could have ended up being like a Sliding Doors [the 1998 film -ed] moment where I then I go from 3000 leads to just going about my life as a coach.
~ Robin Waite (15:00)
Robin Waite shares how he reinvented his business growth strategy by focusing on building partnerships rather than following conventional marketing playbooks. Feeling burnt out by social media and traditional outreach, he adopted an “outside-in” approach—intentionally targeting people he admired, getting in the same room with them, and offering help without expectation. His approach centers on showing up, adding value, and making intentional asks that are aligned with what others actually need.
He illustrates this with a detailed story of how he ended up as a guest on Ali Abdaal’s Deep Dive podcast, which generated over 3,000 leads and $300,000 in business. Key elements included making himself useful at events, building relationships with team members, and being ready with a modest but well-timed ask. Waite expands on this philosophy by identifying five steps: be intentional, get in the room, be helpful, find the inside person, and offer something on a silver platter. The conversation underscores the power of authentic connection, strategic generosity, and long-term thinking in business development.
Takeaways
Intentional targeting of collaborators — Write down a list of specific individuals or brands that feel like a natural fit for connection and mutual value.
Be physically present and engaged — Attend events in person, sit in the front row, and look for ways to directly interact with people you admire.
Generosity without expectation — Offer help freely without asking for anything in return, and allow opportunities to arise organically.
Use social cues to create asks — Make requests that are context-aware, modest, and well-timed based on what you’ve learned about the other person’s situation.
Relationship-building is long-term — Partnerships can take months or even years to develop, and consistent presence matters more than speed.
Imposter syndrome is common — Many successful people share similar doubts and insecurities, making them more approachable than they appear.
Ask through value — Frame your request as a contribution or offer rather than a favor, focusing on what the other person would gain.
The power of introductions — Introducing others who might benefit from knowing each other is a high-leverage, generous act that strengthens your own relationships.
Reciprocity as rocket fuel — Gifts, paid gestures, or generous actions can accelerate connection when done thoughtfully and in alignment with mutual respect.
Avoid transactional thinking — Relationships thrive on genuine interest and value-sharing, not on immediate or one-sided exchanges.
Price’s research comes at a moment when a growing number of archaeological finds and genetic analyses of ancient animal remains are adding layers of nuance to the story of domestication and partnership. Canines and humans, through their dynamic interactions, have formed one of the most unique, complex, and mutually beneficial relationships in history.
Another interpretation is that everyday life, for most people, is an untapped gold mine. Certain undone tasks represent huge gains, waiting just a short time away, behind one session of elbow grease. Even ten or fifteen minutes of directed effort, judiciously applied, can improve your life far more than the wages you earn for the same period.
It’s interesting to note that I only just read this, this evening… after fix a table on my patio today. Yesterday, I grouped together a pile of errands—four different stops with multiple “I need…” for different chores and repairs at each stop. The table is a hulking cedar and steel pipe beast. I need some wood putty, and spar varnish. Today, I got out the sander and mixing little work sessions, with other things, I worked through various sandpaper grits, wood putty iterations, and 3 coats of spar varnish. I did an “80%” jobs at every step of the way. By tomorrow it will be completely dry and ready for use again. I use it every day spring through fall, and this couple hours of work will now yield—probably—3 more seasons of unfussy use.
I also used the rest of the little can of varnish to slap a coat on the garden gate.
For example, fasting stimulates the natural production of growth hormone. So does vigorous exercise, particularly resistance exercise with a strong anaerobic component (not cardio though). And, to the surprise of many people, deep sleep stimulates the natural production of growth hormone, perhaps more than anything else. (Although only once every 24 hours; sleeping all day does not seem to work.)
But, when you work in six week cycles, or relatively short time frames, later means something else entirely. There’s no time for later. It’s now or not. Later doesn’t mean we’ll get to it at the end of this cycle. It means we’ll drop it. Later means another time, not this time. Later isn’t an obligation, it’s a maybe. Later isn’t a cage, it’s freedom. It’s not a debt to pay off, it’s an asset. There’s no pile of pile ups, there’s no guilt, there’s no feeling of late nights and crunch time ahead. Later simply means not now, not soon, and not for sure.
I read this and it really landed. Six weeks. Six weeks is an amount of time I can truly apprehend and plan for. Six weeks has become my new project size. If it cannot be done in six weeks, it needs to be broken down into multiple projects.
The movie is also missing (though it very nearly captured) a fascinating archaeological sidenote to the story: the extraordinary investigations of Dutch archaeologist Hendrik Robert van Heekeren while he was a prisoner of war.
Sure, it’s a film from the 50s, so it’s going to gloss over some things. But it’s interesting to learn about what really went on in that theater [of war.]
What foundation is needed to create a sustainable and successful podcast without becoming overwhelmed by the complexity of the process?
Small, continuous improvements differentiate successful podcasters from those who fade.
When the first computers showed up at the school, they didn’t even know how to teach it yet. So you get those tools and you start layering them into your process. Then you learn how to break it and make something your own. That’s where your art, your style, your uniqueness comes through. But if you didn’t have that foundation, you don’t really have a right to jump to those other things— It just doesn’t work out most often.
~ Tracy Hazzard (11:47)
Tracy Hazzard explores the importance of building strong foundational skills before layering on tactics in podcasting, using examples from art and design education. The conversation highlights the ongoing challenges of rebooting a podcast show, particularly the unexpected complexity of shifting to a deconstructed review format. Attention is given to how applying design thinking can help evaluate what parts of podcast production should be simplified or improved.
Other topics include the value of owning a website and email list to control audience relationships, with personal anecdotes about SEO dominance and long-term content value. The discussion also covers practical strategies for sustainable podcast production, including the benefits of small team workflows, using AI to streamline writing tasks, and the pitfalls of overcomplicating production processes.
Takeaways
Building a foundation before innovating — Learning and mastering the basics leads to better long-term podcasting results.
Owning your audience relationships — Maintaining a website and email list provides resilience against algorithmic shifts on platforms.
Complexity of show format changes — Shifting from interview-based episodes to detailed show deconstructions introduced unexpected preparation challenges.
Value of authentic podcasting — Creating authentic and improvised moments makes shows more memorable and unique.
Sustainable workflows for podcasters — Streamlining production using AI tools and focusing on tasks only the creator can do is critical for maintaining momentum.
Podcast websites and searchability — Properly built podcast websites can continue driving traffic and discoverability years after a show ends.
Long-term SEO value — Strategic website naming and content accumulation lead to sustained search engine ranking.
Challenges of coaching podcasters — Continuous improvement through small, layered learning sessions proves more effective than overwhelming new podcasters.
Pitfalls of early distractions — Podcasters today face a landscape where getting distracted by tools and tactics can quickly derail progress.
Alternative monetization pathways — Even niche podcasts can achieve strong monetization through SEO dominance and strategic audience engagement.
Resources
Podetize — A syndication platform providing podcast hosting, production, and coaching services.
Feed Your Brand — A podcast focused on strategies for building and growing brand visibility through podcasting.
The Binge Factor — A podcast dedicated to uncovering the factors that make podcasts binge-worthy.
Smartcuts by Shane Snow — A book mentioned as a favorite, discussing how lateral thinking and smart shortcuts lead to success.
SmartLess Podcast — A podcast noted for its effective use of improvisation and co-host dynamics.
3D Start Point — The website for the WTFFF?! 3D printing podcast, demonstrating long-term SEO success.
Our self-awareness as actors is pretty missing in that way! There are plenty of times where I thought, “That was something…” And then nobody thought that was anything. (Laughs) And then there’s other times where I said, “Oh, I don’t know about that.” And everybody loves it! So it’s not that easy.
I decided to retire in 2021 because, after such a long career, I had done enough, and it was time for something different. My art was much more interesting and challenging to me (and still is).
Interestingly, when people ask me “what do you do?” I used to say, with snark, “As little as possible.” These days? Still that, but now without the snark.
In the Greek story of Sisyphus, the king was condemned for eternity to move a massive rock up a hill but never reach the summit. Albert Camus famously saw it as a parable of the human condition: Life is meaningless, and consciousness of this meaninglessness is torture. This is how I’d remembered Camus’ essay The Myth of Sisyphus, which describes an afterlife as devastating as that of Prometheus having his liver pecked out by an eagle anew every day. But when I reread it recently, I was reminded that for Camus, the king isn’t entirely tragic; he has some power over his existential predicament. Once he grasps his fate—“the wild and limited universe of man”—Sisyphus discovers a certain freedom; he gets to determine whether to face the futility of it all with joy or sorrow.
Ironically, it is actually far easier for us archaeologists to investigate the monument now than it was before the fire. Although the fire released a lot of lead, making it necessary for researchers to don protective clothing and abide by procedures to avoid lead toxicity, we no longer face the obstacles presented by floods of tourists on the site, and materials damaged by the fire are now more available for analysis. Together, we have learned a lot about the building, its materials, and the possibilities for reconstruction.
After ending on a startlingly inconclusive note in 1991, Twin Peaks returned in 2017 to extend the story for one more season. Yet audiences who’d hoped for a traditional ending were again denied one. Again, Lynch seemed to be imploring them to stop seeking clarity and embrace the moments whose overarching connections are far less obvious. What mattered to him, it appears, was the experience itself: the feelings they evoked, the uncanny images whose significance were difficult to parse yet impossible to forget. David Lynch didn’t want to leave his viewers with an interpretation, but with something more visceral—like the taste of cherry pie and a cup of hot coffee, black as midnight on a moonless night.
I watched Twin Peaks in real time on ‘ol broadcast TV. It bent my brain in the best way possible. But . . . there’s another season?! Shut up and take my money— I was reading this, thinking it was simply interesting. Until I got to this line… excuse me while I run to whatever streaming service it takes . . .
Paper is good. Somehow, a blank page and a pen makes the universe open up before you. Why paper has this unique power is a mystery to me, but I think we should all stop trying to resist this reality and just accept it.
Paper is good is a colossal understatement. The magic of writing comes from being forced to slow down; One has to hold on to a single-sentence sized thought long enough to write it. You’ve never held one thought, clearly in mind, for 10 seconds… unless you were writing it down.
[I]t’s important to have a sense of urgency. But there’s a difference between urgency and rushing, hurrying, going quickly for the sole sake of speed. There is an old Latin expression that I think captures the balance here nicely: Festina Lente, which means, Make haste slowly. A sense of urgency…with a purpose. Energy plus moderation. Measured exertion. Eagerness, with control. It is about getting things done, properly and consistently. They like to say in the military that slow is smooth and smooth is fast.
