On this day

November 29th

But can you actually see anything?

November 29

I love metaphors about hills and valleys. If it’s an uphill struggle, imagine the view. Hills and valleys is a great metaphor for the concept of a local maximum: It’s visually clear (standing atop a hill) and mathematically clear (at a local maximum) that it is “down” in every direction. But only a special sort of hilltop is actually interesting. A hilltop that is really large becomes a flat tabletop. And a hilltop socked in with fog is easily mistaken for not a hilltop. Only hilltops which are pointy enough, and from which we can see other things, are interesting.

[…] our economy—resource allocation based on employment […]—is a local maximum and we cannot expect to arrive at a good outcome without activism.

[…]

But, unless we automate a lot more, we the species will never have enough wealth to offer a decent basic income, and everyone will continue to waste half their lives at work.

~ Gavin Leech from, https://www.gleech.org/automatic/

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Is it clear that every direction is “down”? Can we see anything else; if we can’t see anything else we can’t be sure this is a local maximum. How can we explore “down” in some of the directions… when we’re talking about global scale culture and human lives?

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In the end

November 29, 2021

Not just that every day more of our life is used up and less and less of it is left, but this too: If we live longer, can we be sure our mind will still be up to understanding the world—to the contemplation that aims at divine and human knowledge? If our mind starts to wander, we’ll still go on breathing, go on eating, imagining things, feeling urges and so on. But getting the most out of ourselves, calculating where our duty lies, analyzing what we hear and see, deciding whether it’s time to call it quits—all the things you need a healthy mind for… all those are gone.

So we need to hurry.

Not just because we move daily closer to death but also because our understanding—our grasp of the world—may be gone before we get there.

~ Marcus Aurelius

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Digital minimalism

November 29, 2020

To be a digital minimalist, in other words, means you accept the idea that new communication technologies have the potential to massively improve your life, but also recognize that realizing this potential is hard work.

~ Cal Newport

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That’s from, https://www.calnewport.com/blog/2016/12/18/on-digital-minimalism/ and is the most succinct description of digital minimalism I have ever seeing.

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“Realizing this potential is hard work,” is a sublime understatement. Tracy asked me for a password to something and we ended up in a deep rabbit hole of having to also share the security questions, and it’s tied to my cell phone and actually I don’t know what the password is because I forgot to store it (in my little password management tool) even though my browser had it remembered so I’d been logging in for . . . Complicated.

Obviously in the case of the password, it was worth the effort. But then, next minute, we’re faced with the newest social service, and this software and that software and on and on. Choosing the default of engaging with each thing is an already-lost war.

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Sand through the hour-glass

November 29, 2019

I mentioned recently that I sometimes use a cheap little sand timer when I want to know when to stop, but don’t want to be directly interrupted by beeps or alerts. The sand runs out quietly. At some point later, I notice the time is up and I bring the work to a stop.

Except when the sand timer gets stuck. My half-hour timer—just that one—every once in a while, stops dropping sand. It’s a pretty teeny stream of falling sand that I can easily miss at a glance. So it’s not at all obvious if it stops. I get into the flow of work. I’m thinking, “yeup, in the flow state.” I’m tearing along, confident that my little sand timer will quietly let me know when to stop.

…and like two hours later I notice the room is getting cold because I haven’t fed the wood stove. Wait wat. *taps sand timer* oh.

I can’t decide if this is good or bad. It’s like deep work roulette. I think I’m going to do a half-hour dash, but maybe I’m going down the rabbit hole. I could easily replace the cheap little sand timer, but I like the randomness of it. The analog-ness of it. Not only is its time keeping approximate, but sometimes it’s totally not keeping time.

Too much planning and structure kills spontaneity.

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Goal visualization

November 29, 2018

When people in the workplace confront shift, rift, zooming, and all of the other challenges that make up business life, there is one thread that runs through all of the choices that they make: Either they’re torchbearers, or they’re not.

~ Seth Godin from, https://seths.blog/2004/08/and_from_the_ru/

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Something I talk often about is goal visualization. I’m a firm believer in the idea that “close” and “almost” do not pass muster. When I’m working, and when I’m helping others work, I visualize the goal: We need a door in this wall. It has to be this high, and wide enough for furniture to pass through. And the more specific the goal, the better. The door itself need not be insulated, but it should match the decor of the rooms on either side. It needs an easy to use, single-handle latch/door knob combination. When work begins, I then use the goal as a decision razor: For every choice—every choice, no exceptions—does this option or solution move me towards the goal? Is this a detour that moves me farther from the goal, but then makes it much easier later. [Otherwise known as front-loading work.] Along the way I visualize the state of the world at each step; We’ll knock a hole in the wall on Tuesday—wait, we have a dinner party on Friday… can we be done by Friday?

I’m not only imagining the goal. I’m imagining every single step along the way. What can go wrong? What can go better-than-expected, and what if anything should we do with that gain? And why did we choose this path? …maybe we should re-assess that decision and go this other way, now that we have this new intel having come this far? How important is this goal? …is this a goal to reach at all costs? …can we move the goal now that we have new knowledge? Can we shift some of the work into a next segment of work, shifting our current goal onto an intermediate point along the way to the ultimate goal.

Torch bearer.

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