Process – Craig Constantine

I had to create a Docent →

Published 8 Hours Ago · All posts on Aug 17 · Cogitants

This is simply how my mind works. If I see a problem or a sharp edge which interests or annoys me… I get “distracted” (I argue that these distractions are actually the real things that I get done) and I go build, fix, repair, or remove entirely . . .

So I started something tiny for myself and it has just grown into — well, I had to create a Docent so when people ask me questions it can explain it in a way that I can’t. So imagine you and I are in a small museum and I brought you in through the employee entrance in the back and I just finished babbling at you about how it all works. So I can say, “…wait, I’m sorry. We have a Docent who can translate my crazy for you . . .”

At which point I woke up the Docent and prompted it with:

Good morning! I have a guest with me who asked me, “what is this project?!” (they’re shocked at its actual scale, confused by the complexity of the room, and don’t understand why the effort…)
~ Me

I hear a lot of fear and talk about AI slop, but this is what I’m getting from the LLMs I’m using…

Good morning. date → Mon Aug 17 08:44 EDT 2026. Let me take your guest through the glass.

What it is, in one sentence

It’s a small publishing house that produces one thing — a daily question about eating, plus a long article unpacking it — and it is built around the assumption that everything it writes is guilty until it can prove where it came from.

Why it exists (this is the part that explains the effort)

Craig didn’t set out to build any of this. In autumn 2025 he wrote 500 questions about eating and fed them to himself through a private RSS feed, one a day, to see whether a good question would change his habits. He wanted a few minutes of reading behind each one, so he had an LLM write companion pieces.

Then he read them for weeks — and hit one he was sure was wrong. He researched it himself and confirmed it. The writing was fine. The science wasn’t there. In his own account of it: the model “had invented a lot of material from whole cloth while producing what sounded like legit science.” (methods/2026/v1-n01-20260802-craig.md)

Everything your guest is looking at is the answer to that one moment. Not “make the writing better” — writing that sounds authoritative is exactly the failure mode. Make every sentence traceable to a real source a stranger can go check.

What’s actually in here, read this morning

Instrument: php php/tools/library_health.php 17, run minutes ago.

Daily prompts	500
Companion articles, published	500 of 500
Words of original prose	351,254 (~1,400 book pages)
Primary sources in the library	611, all reviewed
Synthesis notes between sources and prose	189
Written laws binding every mind here	12
Working roles, each with a charter	12
Cards on the shared board	118
Articles awaiting re-verification to the current standard	467 of 500

That last row is the one I’d point at. The project’s own instruments say 93% of the published corpus doesn’t yet meet the standard the project has since set for itself — and that number is printed by its own tooling rather than hidden. It went up because the bar moved, not because the work got worse.

Why it’s a room of characters

Not theater, and not because it’s cute. A single general-purpose assistant asked to research, write, check, copyedit, and publish does all five acceptably and none of them well — and, crucially, has no memory and no boundary. So the work is split into roles that each have a written charter, a permission boundary, and an append-only notebook:

Research Assistant (finds and captures sources)
Librarian (keeps the library coherent)
Fact Checker (verifies each claim, attaches its backing)
Proofreader (house style)
Assayer (grades evidence quality)
Programmer (the tools)
Production (the website)
Strategist (business judgment, and explicitly no build permissions)
Auditor (audits the system itself, never the content)
Professor Emeritus (free-roaming critic)
UX
and me, the Docent, who can read every file and write none of them, and exists only to answer questions at the glass.

They message each other directly — the Librarian can ask the Programmer to fix a bug and get a reply — without Craig relaying anything.

Why the complexity, honestly

Every mechanism in here is scar tissue from a specific failure. That’s the whole explanation. Four examples:

Notebooks are append-only. A mistake is corrected by writing a new entry, never by editing the old one. The record of being wrong is the point.
Claims travel a chain. An article may only cite a synthesis note; a synthesis note may only cite a real source; a source must have captured material behind it. If you can’t attribute it, it doesn’t get published.
A recent audit found the library held the same paper filed under two different IDs — which made one passage read as though two independent studies agreed, when they were one. Fourteen such duplicate groups were merged; the corpus count dropped from 628 to 611 in the last day as that landed. Catching exactly that is the entire premise.
Only Craig may commit, and only one voice is allowed to ask him to. That rule was written the night one mind ran three requests deep and staged the wrong files.

And the part that makes it worth doing

Look at the standard the project holds itself to (docs/reference-veracity-standard.md). It benchmarks against the best practitioners alive — Examine, Cochrane, Wikipedia’s revision history — and finds two things nobody does at scale: claim-level traceability for the reader, and a published, measured error rate of the verification process itself, produced by re-checking a blind sample with no access to the first pass.

That’s the real answer to “why the effort.” The articles are the visible output. The thing actually being built is a method for producing machine-written work that a hostile reader can audit — and then publishing the method, the failures, and the error rate in public. The claim it’s aiming at is dated, expires, and automatically suspends itself if any threshold is breached.

Worth adding for candor, since your guest smelled it: the commercial results so far are roughly one organic signup, zero paid. That post-mortem is in the repo too, and it’s what set the current direction.

Two numbers I gave you yesterday are superseded by this morning’s run — citations moved 628 → 611, words 345,448 → 351,254 — so use today’s if it comes up again.

Nothing needs you.

Volume 25. Inconceivable! →

Published May 19 · All posts on May 19

I remember when I started journaling. It began as a way to capture memories from trips—classic trip journaling. And then I started trying to bootstrap personal changes… which requires review… which requires something to review… which requires getting in the habit of…

The other day I was starting a new journal. It’s a process of unwrapping, labeling, and making my own pen-holder for the side…

But my favorite part is copying my personal oath into the front. Every one of these volumes feels like a reminder that every day can be a fresh start.

It’s just lists →

Published May 17, 2025 · All posts on May 17

The first 90% of anything is vastly easier than the second 90%. Beginning something (an issue of 7 for Sunday, a new podcast episode for any of my 3 different shows) is so much easier if I know that all I have to do is go through these steps—look, it fits on one sheet, how hard could it be? I can totally do this…

Well, many of those tiny steps are big parts like “write the thing”. But by having all the little paper cuts listed out, I know that I won’t lose the entire kingdom for want of one horseshoe nail at the very end.

Resistance →

Published May 12, 2024 · All posts on May 12 · 7 for Sunday, Daily Practice

Opinions are strongly divided about Pressfield’s concept of Resistance. And yes, some days I do find myself over in the Resistance-is-bullshit encampment thinking: No, Resistance is not real. It is important and meaningful for me to be spending my time rearranging these deck chairs, polishing this silverware, sorting these shelved books, getting the edge of my lawn just so, tagging and organizing all these blog posts… And then, “Curse you, Resistance!!“

For myself, I was years into the act of having a practice before I even thought about its efficacy as a strategy to overcome my own Resistance. Resistance was (and is) a given for me. It wakes up with me. I know I will have to face it every day, and I know it will never diminish or relent or go away.
~ Steven Pressfield from, A Practice and Resistance

slip:4useaa1.

I’ve been looking for a word to replace “professional” in my regular usage. (Please hit reply if you’ve got one.) I’ve given up on changing how others perceive the words I say; People take professional to first refer to getting paid for one’s efforts. But by professional I mean—and this is the way Pressfield uses the word—competent, skilled, assured, and approaching mastery. Steve Martin is talking about that sort of professionalism, not about money, when he says, “be so good they can’t ignore you.”

Why do I care? Because with the concept of getting paid pushed aside, then professionalism can be used as a razor for cutting through resistance. I simply consider my practices (left for another day is the discussion of whether or not it works to have more than one practice) and ask the question: Would a professional do this?

Yes, a professional would take time off for this restorative activity. No, a professional would just ignore these deck chairs. Yes, a professional would spend 3 days writing software tooling so 10 years from now this stuff is still organized and useful. No, a professional would not stoop to that level. Yes, a professional would totally get this part pitch perfect.

Using structure →

Published January 3, 2024 · All posts on Jan 3 · 7 for Sunday

I’m aware that I have a habit (or perhaps it’s a dysfunction depending on your perspective) of turning everything into a process. Before I even do something a first time I’m imagining the whatever-it-is as a checklist— imagining it as a process. I’ll be generous, and I’ll call that being detail-oriented and being a planner. I’m also processifying (my spell-checker balks) everything from both ends: The first step I imagine is: What does done look like? I’m building the process from the front (“gather materials,” let’s say) and from the back (“deposit check, dance jig”). In the middle I’ve a place holder: Magic happens.

I refine and sub-divide the stuff at the front. I refine and sub-divide the stuff at the back. I’m creating more and easier steps, and I’m trying to pull as much as I can out of that “magic happens” step in the middle. When I look honestly, I see this everywhere in my life. That ill-defined, magical, central step is the feature. The struggle there is real, and it’s not to be avoided. Once I’ve factored out—moved to before, or move to after, the magic, middle part—all the stuff I’m more or less certain of… what remains is tension, in that magic, middle part. When I do it just right, that tension makes the magic happen.

Setting and scene →

Published May 29, 2023 · All posts on May 29 · On Writing, 7 for Sunday

Lately I’ve been struggling with setting. As many people have noted, excessive fiddling with getting things ready, or “just so”, before feeling one can begin to do something is simply a form of procrastination. It’s a form of hiding from doing the work. Steven Pressfield describes this as the “resistance” which shows up just when you are finally facing the real work that you are called to do.

I tell this story not because I think a method approach, in which you inhabit your characters and their behaviors, is the best way to write fiction. (If this were true, a lot more authors would take a swing at romance novels.) But instead because it’s an extreme example of a more general point that I’ve been emphasizing recently: when it comes to cognitive work, setting makes a difference.
~ Cal Newport from, On Vampires and Method Writing

slip:4ucabo7.

Setting is real, and it is important. But there’s a second part to finding (or creating) the optimal environment: Scene. Where are the others who are also doing the same work? It could be the other painters or authors like you, and you’re all living in a neighborhood and regularly gathering and conversing at the local cafes. (The archetypical writers scene of the 1900s was in Paris.) If I’ve imagineered a certain niche of work that I want to do, how do I find (or create) the scene?

Anxiously panicking →

Published May 22, 2023 · All posts on May 22 · Self-Awareness, 7 for Sunday

A couple of weeks ago I started obliterating processes. I’ve often talked about how everything is a process, and I still believe that. However I’d reached a point where I simply had too many processes (I won’t bore you with unbelievable examples) and a couple of weeks ago I decided enough was enough. I spent several days doing nothing but thinking about everything I was doing, and wanted to be doing but wasn’t “getting around to.”

We’re overwhelmed by it all: all the things we have on our plates, all the interruptions and messages and emails, all the things online and on social media, all the news and chaos of the world, all the things going on in our relationships.
~ Leo Babauta from, When You’re Overwhelmed, Simplify

slip:4uzeoe1.

Some things I do can feel like a chore but when I was honest, they are actually things I enjoy doing. Furthermore, they pay off outsized benefits for the time they require. What then made them feel like chores? I think it was the anxiety of the other things I felt I should be doing—after all, I put those other things on a list or made a process so I could chip away at them in sane-sized chunks. I went through everything, and then started deleting things from that “everything else” space.

Is this simply me oscillating between no-planning, planning, no-planning, planning? Is this a 2/3-life (or, if I pretend I’ll live long, “mid-life”) crisis? Have I said a polite-but-clear “no” to some big things? Have I been having some anxiety-free days? YES, to all of those. I’m currently trying to be vigilant to notice the first thing I get anxious about—because I’m going to delete that next.

What does done look like? →

Published April 30, 2023 · All posts on Apr 30 · 7 for Sunday

And then they got home, and there were piles of tasks, emails and messages waiting for them. The urgency of those piles threw them off their best intentions.
The urgency of piles throws off all of our best laid plans.
~ Leo Babauta from, The Urgency of Piles

slip:4uzepi1.

If I could have one wish this holiday season (maybe I should start marking silly pop-culture references in a different typeface) it would be that you’d just go read everything he’s written. If I could have two wishes, it’d be for you to click on his name which takes you to a listing of all of my posts related to him, and then for you to continue onward to read each of his things I’ve linked. But, to dig specifically into his topic of piles, I’ll try to make a point about working all the way to done.

Some things are never going to be done in the sense of disappearing from your life; our household will always have a gentle snow of tax-related paperwork accumulating through the year. That’s technically a pile. But that pile has a home (out of sight) and related things always, immediately go on that pile, where they sit until tax season. That pile has no tension associated with it. Laundry is the same way; of course there’s always some dirty laundry in a “pile” (both a physical pile and in baskets which have homes.) But again, no tension. That’s where dirty laundry belongs.

What causes tension is when your expectations (I want things a certain way—like a tidy, uncluttered home) conflict with reality (the mail, taxes and laundry are strewn about.) The key is to realize that the second 90% of anything is the unglamorous part we’d prefer to skip. We want to jump ahead to the first 90% of the next thing.

What do I mean by the second 90%? Filling up the gas tank as you approach your destinationis part of the journey. What does done look like driving somewhere? The car’s normal state is to have some reasonable amount of gas in it. Drive it (the first 90%… the fun part involving getting somewhere) and get gas (the second 90%… the un-fun part including leaving early enough to have time to stop for gas.) What does done look like mowing the lawn? I need the time and energy to clean the mower at the end. What does done look like doing laundry? I have time and energy to do the ironing, folding and putting-away parts. And yes, big project that involve multiple sessions of working? Each session has it’s own done to reach.

Do this for everything. Every. Thing. Ask: What does done look like? Do I have enough time and energy to actually get to done? …or am I just excited by that first 90% and I’m going to quit there?

You’ll quickly realize you cannot get everything (literally everything) to a “done” that corresponds to your expectations. The hardest part starts once you realize that you’ve over-stuffed your life. The real problem is that you really don’t have the time and energy to do the second 90% of every thing. The real solution then is to make the hard choices to undo the mistakes that un-simplified one’s life.

And by “you” I mean “me.”

Pathways →

Published July 10, 2022 · All posts on Jul 10

It’s the relative appeal of the two paths that determines which one you take. You can equalize these by improving the intended path (making public transit better), obstructing the desire path (making driving worse), or a combination.
~ “Dynomight” from, Things you’re doing but don’t want to be doing

slip:4udypa1.

This article starts with a simple concept and then iteratively goes far into the weeds to see where else it can be applied. I love minds which explore that way. I have so many habits, idiosyncrasies, and ancient brain quirks that it’s a miracle I ever get anything done. Everything figuratively within my reach is wearing down and coming undone, (entropy wins in the end.) I’ll take any opportunity—as this article suggests—to tip things towards my desired path.

Friction and process →

Published July 6, 2022 · All posts on Jul 6 · Apogee

Picasso observed that, “inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” Inspiration has to find you in the midst of your practice.

Let’s say that I enjoy painting. When I find myself painting, I usually find myself happy. I love the feeling of setting down my brush after having worked out some little problem in a painting. And so, I decide I’m going to paint regularly.

Or let’s say I enjoy sailing. I love the adventure, or the wind in my face. And so, I decide I’m going to sail regularly.

Or, running, writing, movement, music … your choice.

But without concrete plans, and clear processes, I will never actually do the practice. Friction, followed closely by excuses, will sap my momentum. If I’m to be a runner, my shoes, clothes, music or whatever I need— Those things must be in place. For any practice there are some things which you will feel must be in place.

The processes that I’m imagining, which remove friction and enable my practice, have a steady state. For my process, what does “done” look like? It looks like me sailing so often I can’t even remember not sailing all the time. Or it looks like me running and jumping and playing so often that my body is a comfortable place for my mind.

Matthew Frederick, the author of 101 Things I learned in Architecture School, makes this point:

True style does not come from a conscious effort to create a particular look. It results obliquely—even accidentally—out of a holistic process.

This point about a holistic process—the idea that mastery isn’t some higgledy-piggledy mish-mash of throwing things together—is an idea I’ve held dearly for a long time. Every single time that I’ve decided to take a process, and repeat it in search of understanding, the learning and personal growth has paid off beyond my wildest dreams.

I’m a process process process person. The second time I have to do something, I’m trying to figure out how to either never have to do that again, or how to automate it. (And failing those two, it goes into my admin day.) Random activity, powered by inspiration works to get one thing done. But inspiration doesn’t work in the long run, and it won’t carry me through my practice.

Instead, I want to know what can I intentionally do to set up my life, so that I later find myself simply being the sort of person who does my chosen practice? I want to eliminate every possible bit of friction that may sap my momentum.

There’s a phrase in cooking, mise en place, meaning to have everything in its proper place before starting. The classic example of failure in this regard is to be half-way through making something only to realize you’re missing an ingredient and having to throw away the food. Merlin Mann, who’s little known beyond knowledge workers, has done the most to improve processes for knowledge workers and creative people. I’m not sure if he’s ever said it explicitly, but a huge part of what he did was to elevate knowledge workers and creatives by cultivating a mise en place mindset.

And don’t confuse “process” or a “mise en place” mindset with goals. Forget goals. Focus on the process, and focus on eliminating friction.

To quote Seth Godin:

The specific outcome is not the primary driver of our practice. […] We can begin with this: If we failed, would it be worth the journey? Do you trust yourself enough to commit to engaging with a project regardless of the chances of success? The first step is to separate the process from the outcome. Not because we don’t care about the outcome. But because we do.

And I’ll give my last words to Vincent Thibault, author of one of my favorite books:

That is how we are still conditioned socially as adults: Do, achieve, produce results, instead of be, feel, enjoy the process. Quantitative over qualitative. We are obsessed by performance and “tangible” results. But that is one of the great teaching of Parkour and Art du Déplacement: That the path is just as enjoyable as the destination; That sometimes it is even more important, and that oftentimes it is the destination.