I was thinking the other day about grief and the things I've said to various people going through a difficult time. I came up with a list that vaguely resembled good advice:
-Be present in the day
-Respond to the world around you
-Take care of your needs
-Express your thoughts, feelings, and emotions
-Allow others to make you smile
-Lean on whatever will support you
-Some days you'll feel great, and other days will be a new low
-Keep in mind that one day the ground will feel solid again
As I look over the list now, I'm struck by a thought - this doesn't really apply to just grief. For the most part, the things that move us on and move us forward through a difficult time aren't all that dissimilar from the things that we should do during a normal time.
It does seem like we forget these things, though, for whatever reason. Maybe we are simply too distracted by various goals, ambitions, and pursuits to make time for the things that don't directly contribute to our desired ends. A healthy level of focus is all well and good but I think taking a few minutes each day to consider how to recharge will prove to be a small investment that pays for itself many times over throughout a lifetime.
Saturday, August 31, 2019
Friday, August 30, 2019
prop admin leftovers – may 2019 (muse)
I mentioned at the start of May that one of my highlights from April was the Muse concert at the TD Garden. This UK-based band has a big reputation for live performances and they did not disappoint – as I noted after attending their show just over three years ago, Muse always puts on great concerts.
I was asked after the show where Muse ranked among the world’s biggest bands. My first instinct was to place them among a wide range of groups that most people know of yet know little about. This instinct grossly underestimated their appeal in Europe, however, and a little research confirmed their ability to consistently sell out stadiums where some of the other groups I might have included in that aforementioned range wouldn't even be able to fill the parking lot.
The fairest method to gauge their popularity might involve comparing Muse’s position against their peers at music festivals. They've headlined festivals ahead of other more well known performers like Jay-Z or Taylor Swift and alongside what I believe Americans consider more well-established performers such as Adele, Coldplay, and, of course, U2. Muse might not hold the same appeal in the USA as they do worldwide but it would be a mistake to consider them in the same strata as certain performers whose popularity doesn’t translate across borders.
One key difference between Muse and other rock bands is that each member of Muse is supremely talented. There is simply no dead weight anywhere on the stage during a performance. The most interesting effect comes from Chris Wolstenhoem on the bass guitar. Most bands make me think I could play the instrument with a little bit of practice, were I interested in playing such a dull instrument – Wolstenhoem makes me want to play the bass even as I recognize that a lifetime of training would wouldn’t leave me half as skilled as him. Like it is with many bands, Muse pours a lot of money into the production of their performances and this investment undoubtedly explains much about their great shows. However, without the underlying talent level in the band it would be impossible for me to describe them as a great act.
I mentioned in the May newsletter that I enjoyed ‘Uprising’ and ‘New Born’ more than I expected. For the former, this may have been due in part to the presentation – I liked how the band brought in extras to pound on additional drums. The latter was part of a medley that addressed the age-old problem of ‘our core fans want us only to play the classics’. The medley also solved a more unusual problem of ‘if we have a giant robot, when should we bring it onto the stage?’ The robot's emergence during the show was spectacular - it essentially 'snuck' onto the stage behind the band during the few seconds of complete darkness before the medley. The utter disbelief in the crowd when the light came on remains difficult to describe – if you imagine stopping to tie your shoe, then standing up moments later to realize a giant billboard had suddenly appeared fifty feet ahead, you might get a sense of the response in the crowd just before the concert’s penultimate performance.
Finally, back in May I noted that Muse skipped a formal encore and just continued to play the setlist right to the end. This observation is somewhat disputed by the setlist summary. I can see why this might be the case because the break between ‘Starlight’ and the second performance of ‘Algorithm’ was probably a little longer than the other breaks during the show. However, I was never tempted to half-heartedly clap and cheer like I’ve done at other concerts. The band also made no attempt to pretend like the show was over at the end of ‘Starlight’ – no comments from the band like ‘good night!’ or ‘thank you Boston!’ – so as far as I’m concerned, Muse skipped the encore on this night.
Endnotes / ENCORE!!!
0a. Wait, what do you REALLY think about encores?
I’m sure longtime readers will not be surprised to hear my disdain for the encore. I know I’m not alone here – no one I talk to ever says ‘hey, my favorite part of the concert was when the band left the stage and then we shouted for more until they came back to get all the shit they’d left on stage and play two more songs’.
I bet the bands probably feel as stupid during the encore break as we do being forced to pretend the concert is ‘over’ even though the house lights remain down. My suspicion is that we are all in a version of ‘the emperor wearing no clothes’ here – someday, we’ll all look back on this odd feature of the concert experience with the same incomprehension we reserve today for outdated concepts like writing letters or talking to the neighbors.
The best part of my dystopian ‘no-encore’ vision is that when a band does play an encore, it will be truly special, just as it is today when I receive a handwritten letter or have a good talk with a neighbor.
0b. The obligatory U2 reference
Speaking of The War Against Encores, this 2001 video provides compelling evidence of what Bono thinks about the concept.
0c. Other videos…
Some follow ups from the above:
The best version I found of ‘Uprising’…
The best version I found of ‘New Born’…
This performance of ‘Dig Down’, although very much a different sound than Muse’s standard, is perhaps my favorite from the new album.
I was asked after the show where Muse ranked among the world’s biggest bands. My first instinct was to place them among a wide range of groups that most people know of yet know little about. This instinct grossly underestimated their appeal in Europe, however, and a little research confirmed their ability to consistently sell out stadiums where some of the other groups I might have included in that aforementioned range wouldn't even be able to fill the parking lot.
The fairest method to gauge their popularity might involve comparing Muse’s position against their peers at music festivals. They've headlined festivals ahead of other more well known performers like Jay-Z or Taylor Swift and alongside what I believe Americans consider more well-established performers such as Adele, Coldplay, and, of course, U2. Muse might not hold the same appeal in the USA as they do worldwide but it would be a mistake to consider them in the same strata as certain performers whose popularity doesn’t translate across borders.
One key difference between Muse and other rock bands is that each member of Muse is supremely talented. There is simply no dead weight anywhere on the stage during a performance. The most interesting effect comes from Chris Wolstenhoem on the bass guitar. Most bands make me think I could play the instrument with a little bit of practice, were I interested in playing such a dull instrument – Wolstenhoem makes me want to play the bass even as I recognize that a lifetime of training would wouldn’t leave me half as skilled as him. Like it is with many bands, Muse pours a lot of money into the production of their performances and this investment undoubtedly explains much about their great shows. However, without the underlying talent level in the band it would be impossible for me to describe them as a great act.
I mentioned in the May newsletter that I enjoyed ‘Uprising’ and ‘New Born’ more than I expected. For the former, this may have been due in part to the presentation – I liked how the band brought in extras to pound on additional drums. The latter was part of a medley that addressed the age-old problem of ‘our core fans want us only to play the classics’. The medley also solved a more unusual problem of ‘if we have a giant robot, when should we bring it onto the stage?’ The robot's emergence during the show was spectacular - it essentially 'snuck' onto the stage behind the band during the few seconds of complete darkness before the medley. The utter disbelief in the crowd when the light came on remains difficult to describe – if you imagine stopping to tie your shoe, then standing up moments later to realize a giant billboard had suddenly appeared fifty feet ahead, you might get a sense of the response in the crowd just before the concert’s penultimate performance.
Finally, back in May I noted that Muse skipped a formal encore and just continued to play the setlist right to the end. This observation is somewhat disputed by the setlist summary. I can see why this might be the case because the break between ‘Starlight’ and the second performance of ‘Algorithm’ was probably a little longer than the other breaks during the show. However, I was never tempted to half-heartedly clap and cheer like I’ve done at other concerts. The band also made no attempt to pretend like the show was over at the end of ‘Starlight’ – no comments from the band like ‘good night!’ or ‘thank you Boston!’ – so as far as I’m concerned, Muse skipped the encore on this night.
Endnotes / ENCORE!!!
0a. Wait, what do you REALLY think about encores?
I’m sure longtime readers will not be surprised to hear my disdain for the encore. I know I’m not alone here – no one I talk to ever says ‘hey, my favorite part of the concert was when the band left the stage and then we shouted for more until they came back to get all the shit they’d left on stage and play two more songs’.
I bet the bands probably feel as stupid during the encore break as we do being forced to pretend the concert is ‘over’ even though the house lights remain down. My suspicion is that we are all in a version of ‘the emperor wearing no clothes’ here – someday, we’ll all look back on this odd feature of the concert experience with the same incomprehension we reserve today for outdated concepts like writing letters or talking to the neighbors.
The best part of my dystopian ‘no-encore’ vision is that when a band does play an encore, it will be truly special, just as it is today when I receive a handwritten letter or have a good talk with a neighbor.
0b. The obligatory U2 reference
Speaking of The War Against Encores, this 2001 video provides compelling evidence of what Bono thinks about the concept.
0c. Other videos…
Some follow ups from the above:
The best version I found of ‘Uprising’…
The best version I found of ‘New Born’…
This performance of ‘Dig Down’, although very much a different sound than Muse’s standard, is perhaps my favorite from the new album.
Thursday, August 29, 2019
leftovers - prop admin extensions (current events podcasts)
I mentioned in this post that although I chose to stop listening for now, I liked The Pollsters and might return to it someday. One reason I liked the show was for the way it taught me some of the intricacies of polling technique.
The lesson I am most likely to apply is to include a ‘0’ in any poll that asks for a rating along a range – for example, on a scale of 0-10, how good is this TOA post? The ‘0-10’ range works better than ‘1-10’ for a couple of reasons. First, it helps mitigate potential confusion about whether ‘1’ represents the top or bottom of the rating scale. Second, a ‘0’ establishes the bottom of the scale as equivalent to ‘never’ whereas a poll with ‘1’ holding the line might tempt responders to consider the lowest rating inclusive of ‘almost never’.
I suppose the lingering question is, if I liked the show and found it informative, why stop listening? The problem I ran into was that my other podcasts were already doing a better job at what The Pollsters does well. I described in my previous post that I thought Middle Theory was a better fit for my ‘current events’ requirement. And of course, in terms of questioning the numbers presented in the media, More Or Less will always be my preference.
I was thinking about why I concluded that More Or Less is a better show for me than The Pollsters. I realized that the key is the difference in what the two podcasts focus on – The Pollsters analyzes what people say they will do while More Or Less looks at what people have done. It’s not a massive distinction in many ways but it’s the kind that matters a great deal to me. Ultimately, I consider what More Or Less does a prerequisite for making The Pollsters relevant because identifying and correcting misinformation improves everyone’s ability to form opinions and state intentions via polling. If shows like More Or Less didn’t participate in this work, the answers analyzed each week on The Pollsters would be based on misinformation and could hardly be considered a fair representation of what people thought about the day’s current events.
The lesson I am most likely to apply is to include a ‘0’ in any poll that asks for a rating along a range – for example, on a scale of 0-10, how good is this TOA post? The ‘0-10’ range works better than ‘1-10’ for a couple of reasons. First, it helps mitigate potential confusion about whether ‘1’ represents the top or bottom of the rating scale. Second, a ‘0’ establishes the bottom of the scale as equivalent to ‘never’ whereas a poll with ‘1’ holding the line might tempt responders to consider the lowest rating inclusive of ‘almost never’.
I suppose the lingering question is, if I liked the show and found it informative, why stop listening? The problem I ran into was that my other podcasts were already doing a better job at what The Pollsters does well. I described in my previous post that I thought Middle Theory was a better fit for my ‘current events’ requirement. And of course, in terms of questioning the numbers presented in the media, More Or Less will always be my preference.
I was thinking about why I concluded that More Or Less is a better show for me than The Pollsters. I realized that the key is the difference in what the two podcasts focus on – The Pollsters analyzes what people say they will do while More Or Less looks at what people have done. It’s not a massive distinction in many ways but it’s the kind that matters a great deal to me. Ultimately, I consider what More Or Less does a prerequisite for making The Pollsters relevant because identifying and correcting misinformation improves everyone’s ability to form opinions and state intentions via polling. If shows like More Or Less didn’t participate in this work, the answers analyzed each week on The Pollsters would be based on misinformation and could hardly be considered a fair representation of what people thought about the day’s current events.
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
tales of two cities - green light indicates bikes are secure
One of the great recurring tropes (motif? themes? realities?) throughout the history of storytelling is the One Big Weakness. This concept essentially states that nothing is strong enough, powerful enough, or perfect enough to resist a direct exploitation of its One Big Weakness. Achilles had a heel, Eve craved apples, and Icarus couldn’t think of anywhere to go except the sun. Even the Death Star had that tiny square for Luke Skywalker’s missile!
Hubway – eh hem, Blue Bikes – happily claims its place within this esteemed tradition. There are many candidates for the bike share system’s One Big Weakness. It could be the rhythm of bike availability, a reality based on society’s shared commuting pattern of inbound morning trips and outbound evening returns that seems to guarantee shortage or surplus at certain important stations. It could be the surrounding infrastructure, a tale of many cities eager to bring bikers onto streets before the paint has dried on its doomed bike lanes. It could be the bikes themselves – defined by inflexibility, ‘powered’ by weak gears, and outweighed by nothing save for the cars that run them off the road. But a combination of strategic bike distribution, ongoing cycling advocacy, and a dedicated and diligent maintenance team means Blue Bikes has done more than a commendable job in keeping these candidates from spelling doom for the bike share system.
There is one candidate, though, that I feel will eventually spell doom for Blue Bikes. It’s the Green Light, the system’s final communication to a cyclist that confirms a rented bike has been successfully returned. When the Green Light comes on at the docking station, a customer knows that the rental is closed out. It’s a perfect system, right?
Right.
August marked a four-year anniversary for me on Hubway – er, Blue Bikes. Amazingly, I’ve had almost no problems throughout my membership. Think about that for a minute. What does anyone do for four years without encountering some problems? In fact, I can recall having only one problem but I’m growing increasingly worried that the one problem isn’t just any old issue, it’s the One Big Weakness. The issue I speak of is the Green Light.
Here’s how I think about it – each time I return my bike and see the Green Light, it means one of two outcomes:
1. The bike is returned to the system and my rental is closed out.
2. The bike is NOT returned to the system and my rental is NOT closed out.
Those are the two outcomes.
Outcome #1 is great – I rented my bike, enjoyed the ride, and returned it for the next customer. Outcome #2 is a Big Problem. Outcome #2 means the bike you borrowed is the bike you never returned. Outcome #2 is essentially the same thing as stealing a bike. It just so happens that Blue Bikes values scrap metal with two wheels, a kickstand, and an advertisement for private health insurance at… $1200! Twelve hundred big ones! Can you believe it, reader? Trust me, the only reason why I don’t steal one of these bikes is because they are worth closer to $12 than $1200.
Anyway, the problem here should be obvious – Blue Bikes responds to a missing bike based on its own inflated valuation. Do you know what stealing $1200 means, reader? It means the police will care. If I walked into your house with an empty bag and walked out with $1200 worth of your possessions stuffed inside, you’d cancel your plans to call 911. Blue Bikes doesn’t need to take that last step, reader, because they happen to have my credit card – they’ll just charge $1200 to the customer without due process, or anything like it (though I’m sure the Fine Print explains why this is all fair and square). In essence, if Blue Bikes accuses you of stealing, the burden of proof is on the customer, and that’s kind of the point of this whole rant.
Now, reader, you may be wondering – but what about the Green Light? It's basically their way of unlocking the cab doors once you've paid. The problem is that Blue Bikes doesn’t actually recognize the Green Light as a trip closure. They'll ask you about it, but it doesn't matter what you say. This is why I see the Green Light as a Big Problem - if your rental isn’t closed out for whatever reason, telling Blue Bikes that you saw the Green Light isn’t going to get you anywhere. To go back to my analogy, it would be like handing over the cab fare, finding the doors were still locked, then hearing the driver reply 'what money?' when you reminded him that you'd just paid.
Oh, and also, the twenty-five minute cab ride cost $1200.
Let's look at it like this:
Blue Bikes: The system is missing a bike – and it says you touched it last. You stole the bike!
Me: I saw the green light, I swear it! On my mother’s life!
I understand the basic idea of the system. It’s easy enough to imagine some thief insisting that a missing rental had been returned correctly. It would be like a murder suspect walking into court and basing his defense around “I didn’t see any dead bodies that night”. It’s the right idea, but there’s no way to prove it. But what are the alternatives? Right now, the system just kind of decides that I’ve stolen a bike. It would be like going to an ATM to take out $20, getting $1200 extra because the machine malfunctions, and then having a police officer arrest me for bank robbery as I walk out.
Police: The system is missing $1200 – and it says you touched the ATM last. You robbed the bank!
Me: I punched in twenty, I swear it! On my mother’s life!
Here's the key question - the system issue is easy enough to understand, but who designed the system? I'll say it again - it’s the burden of proof being placed on the customer that really bothers me about the Green Light process. Blue Bikes is operating a system with a clear flaw but instead of addressing the problem and fixing it for good the bike share has decided to dump the cost onto its customers. It could be resolved very easily – an option for a printed return receipt would end this issue – but until that happy day, they continue to insist the bikes are worth $1200 just to get us customers to take this burden seriously. The important thing to keep in mind is that Blue Bikes is entirely in charge of its own system. It can simply decide to offer its customers more ways to recognize a closed rental. Right now, the decision is to do nothing, and that’s the problem. I’ll dig into this a little more in some upcoming posts.
Until then, thanks for reading, and happy riding.
Hubway – eh hem, Blue Bikes – happily claims its place within this esteemed tradition. There are many candidates for the bike share system’s One Big Weakness. It could be the rhythm of bike availability, a reality based on society’s shared commuting pattern of inbound morning trips and outbound evening returns that seems to guarantee shortage or surplus at certain important stations. It could be the surrounding infrastructure, a tale of many cities eager to bring bikers onto streets before the paint has dried on its doomed bike lanes. It could be the bikes themselves – defined by inflexibility, ‘powered’ by weak gears, and outweighed by nothing save for the cars that run them off the road. But a combination of strategic bike distribution, ongoing cycling advocacy, and a dedicated and diligent maintenance team means Blue Bikes has done more than a commendable job in keeping these candidates from spelling doom for the bike share system.
There is one candidate, though, that I feel will eventually spell doom for Blue Bikes. It’s the Green Light, the system’s final communication to a cyclist that confirms a rented bike has been successfully returned. When the Green Light comes on at the docking station, a customer knows that the rental is closed out. It’s a perfect system, right?
Right.
August marked a four-year anniversary for me on Hubway – er, Blue Bikes. Amazingly, I’ve had almost no problems throughout my membership. Think about that for a minute. What does anyone do for four years without encountering some problems? In fact, I can recall having only one problem but I’m growing increasingly worried that the one problem isn’t just any old issue, it’s the One Big Weakness. The issue I speak of is the Green Light.
Here’s how I think about it – each time I return my bike and see the Green Light, it means one of two outcomes:
1. The bike is returned to the system and my rental is closed out.
2. The bike is NOT returned to the system and my rental is NOT closed out.
Those are the two outcomes.
Outcome #1 is great – I rented my bike, enjoyed the ride, and returned it for the next customer. Outcome #2 is a Big Problem. Outcome #2 means the bike you borrowed is the bike you never returned. Outcome #2 is essentially the same thing as stealing a bike. It just so happens that Blue Bikes values scrap metal with two wheels, a kickstand, and an advertisement for private health insurance at… $1200! Twelve hundred big ones! Can you believe it, reader? Trust me, the only reason why I don’t steal one of these bikes is because they are worth closer to $12 than $1200.
Anyway, the problem here should be obvious – Blue Bikes responds to a missing bike based on its own inflated valuation. Do you know what stealing $1200 means, reader? It means the police will care. If I walked into your house with an empty bag and walked out with $1200 worth of your possessions stuffed inside, you’d cancel your plans to call 911. Blue Bikes doesn’t need to take that last step, reader, because they happen to have my credit card – they’ll just charge $1200 to the customer without due process, or anything like it (though I’m sure the Fine Print explains why this is all fair and square). In essence, if Blue Bikes accuses you of stealing, the burden of proof is on the customer, and that’s kind of the point of this whole rant.
Now, reader, you may be wondering – but what about the Green Light? It's basically their way of unlocking the cab doors once you've paid. The problem is that Blue Bikes doesn’t actually recognize the Green Light as a trip closure. They'll ask you about it, but it doesn't matter what you say. This is why I see the Green Light as a Big Problem - if your rental isn’t closed out for whatever reason, telling Blue Bikes that you saw the Green Light isn’t going to get you anywhere. To go back to my analogy, it would be like handing over the cab fare, finding the doors were still locked, then hearing the driver reply 'what money?' when you reminded him that you'd just paid.
Oh, and also, the twenty-five minute cab ride cost $1200.
Let's look at it like this:
Blue Bikes: The system is missing a bike – and it says you touched it last. You stole the bike!
Me: I saw the green light, I swear it! On my mother’s life!
I understand the basic idea of the system. It’s easy enough to imagine some thief insisting that a missing rental had been returned correctly. It would be like a murder suspect walking into court and basing his defense around “I didn’t see any dead bodies that night”. It’s the right idea, but there’s no way to prove it. But what are the alternatives? Right now, the system just kind of decides that I’ve stolen a bike. It would be like going to an ATM to take out $20, getting $1200 extra because the machine malfunctions, and then having a police officer arrest me for bank robbery as I walk out.
Police: The system is missing $1200 – and it says you touched the ATM last. You robbed the bank!
Me: I punched in twenty, I swear it! On my mother’s life!
Here's the key question - the system issue is easy enough to understand, but who designed the system? I'll say it again - it’s the burden of proof being placed on the customer that really bothers me about the Green Light process. Blue Bikes is operating a system with a clear flaw but instead of addressing the problem and fixing it for good the bike share has decided to dump the cost onto its customers. It could be resolved very easily – an option for a printed return receipt would end this issue – but until that happy day, they continue to insist the bikes are worth $1200 just to get us customers to take this burden seriously. The important thing to keep in mind is that Blue Bikes is entirely in charge of its own system. It can simply decide to offer its customers more ways to recognize a closed rental. Right now, the decision is to do nothing, and that’s the problem. I’ll dig into this a little more in some upcoming posts.
Until then, thanks for reading, and happy riding.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
leftovers - little panic (library return)
Given that average life expectancy is somewhere between 25,000 and 30,000 days, I suppose it's almost guaranteed that I'll find myself involved in a few "no chance it'll happen" moments before my time here is up. We just live too long, you know? I'll put it this way - if something has a 0.00004% chance of happening on a given day, then that means there's a pretty good chance it'll happen at least once over the course of an average lifetime.
These stray thoughts cross my mind when I realize that very well designed systems have minimized the odds of a problem to what the non-math folks would describe as "no chance it'll happen". One such example is returning a book to the library. I’ve returned close to a thousand books since graduating college and each time the system has worked perfectly – I bring the book to the library, leave the item someplace ‘official’ like a bin or a counter-top, and a day later the book is closed out of my account. This system worked perfectly every single time I participated in it over the last decade. And yet, during certain idle moments, I’d wonder about that day in the future. What if the book fell out of the bin? What if someone snatched it from the counter-top before the librarian? What if the power briefly went out just as the book was being scanned? What if the scanning system went haywire and marked a different book as returned? Regardless of the exact detail, the end result would be the same – I’d be stuck having to find some way to return a book I’d already returned.
Naturally, this long-feared situation finally happened just a few months ago after I finished Amanda Stern’s Little Panic. I returned the book to the library on my lunch break and went about my life for a few days without giving the matter a second thought. When I logged into my account to request a few new books, I found Little Panic staring back at me. I'd returned it a week ago and it was due in seventeen days. How fitting, I suppose, that the book in question was Little Panic, for my reaction was the same uncomfortable mixture of anxiety and confusion that Stern writes so masterfully about in her book. I wasted significant time and energy over the next couple of days having this pointless problem weighing down my mind before I finally acknowledged that the only thing to do was to go to the library, explain the situation, and ask for help.
I went to the library the next day and explained the situation. After a couple seconds of deliberation, the man at the desk announced I was ‘all set’ and sent me on my way. All set? What the heck does that mean, I wondered? I never did get a good answer. Maybe he knew from experience that these books have a habit of turning up, eventually, or maybe he just didn’t care about doing more because closing the book from my account was the easiest resolution. It’s possible he’s still deep in the stacks somewhere, looking for the lost copy of Little Panic. I guess there’s no way for me to know for sure. I just hope the question of this book isn’t weighing down some corner of his mind and bringing needless anxiety into his life because this is like most problems I've spent time worrying about - in the end, I've learned that it was never worth worrying about it at all.
Endnotes / the cutting room floor...
0. Turned out, the math didn't work on this one...
My original draft included the ATM as another example. Someday, this modern marvel of banking efficiency is going to go haywire and start spitting extra money into my greedy palms, right? Like, what could the odds of that happening on a given day be? There's no chance of this happening today, or tomorrow, or on any specific day. If I go to the ATM around three times a month, I should like my odds that this will have to happen someday while I'm making a transaction, right?
When I did the math, I realized that I'd fallen for a basic trap - I considered the odds of something happening on a given day equivalent to the odds it might happen to me. That's not really the same thing (and especially in the context of this post) and since I didn't really need another example, I buried it here instead.
The broad point is more important - nothing designed by humans maintains its perfect record forever. The ATM system, no matter how well designed, is still designed by humans - it's going to fail sometime. It just probably won't involve me standing in front of one, trying to catch the cash flying out of the broken thing...
These stray thoughts cross my mind when I realize that very well designed systems have minimized the odds of a problem to what the non-math folks would describe as "no chance it'll happen". One such example is returning a book to the library. I’ve returned close to a thousand books since graduating college and each time the system has worked perfectly – I bring the book to the library, leave the item someplace ‘official’ like a bin or a counter-top, and a day later the book is closed out of my account. This system worked perfectly every single time I participated in it over the last decade. And yet, during certain idle moments, I’d wonder about that day in the future. What if the book fell out of the bin? What if someone snatched it from the counter-top before the librarian? What if the power briefly went out just as the book was being scanned? What if the scanning system went haywire and marked a different book as returned? Regardless of the exact detail, the end result would be the same – I’d be stuck having to find some way to return a book I’d already returned.
Naturally, this long-feared situation finally happened just a few months ago after I finished Amanda Stern’s Little Panic. I returned the book to the library on my lunch break and went about my life for a few days without giving the matter a second thought. When I logged into my account to request a few new books, I found Little Panic staring back at me. I'd returned it a week ago and it was due in seventeen days. How fitting, I suppose, that the book in question was Little Panic, for my reaction was the same uncomfortable mixture of anxiety and confusion that Stern writes so masterfully about in her book. I wasted significant time and energy over the next couple of days having this pointless problem weighing down my mind before I finally acknowledged that the only thing to do was to go to the library, explain the situation, and ask for help.
I went to the library the next day and explained the situation. After a couple seconds of deliberation, the man at the desk announced I was ‘all set’ and sent me on my way. All set? What the heck does that mean, I wondered? I never did get a good answer. Maybe he knew from experience that these books have a habit of turning up, eventually, or maybe he just didn’t care about doing more because closing the book from my account was the easiest resolution. It’s possible he’s still deep in the stacks somewhere, looking for the lost copy of Little Panic. I guess there’s no way for me to know for sure. I just hope the question of this book isn’t weighing down some corner of his mind and bringing needless anxiety into his life because this is like most problems I've spent time worrying about - in the end, I've learned that it was never worth worrying about it at all.
Endnotes / the cutting room floor...
0. Turned out, the math didn't work on this one...
My original draft included the ATM as another example. Someday, this modern marvel of banking efficiency is going to go haywire and start spitting extra money into my greedy palms, right? Like, what could the odds of that happening on a given day be? There's no chance of this happening today, or tomorrow, or on any specific day. If I go to the ATM around three times a month, I should like my odds that this will have to happen someday while I'm making a transaction, right?
When I did the math, I realized that I'd fallen for a basic trap - I considered the odds of something happening on a given day equivalent to the odds it might happen to me. That's not really the same thing (and especially in the context of this post) and since I didn't really need another example, I buried it here instead.
The broad point is more important - nothing designed by humans maintains its perfect record forever. The ATM system, no matter how well designed, is still designed by humans - it's going to fail sometime. It just probably won't involve me standing in front of one, trying to catch the cash flying out of the broken thing...
Monday, August 26, 2019
rereading review - norwegian wood (the pain of growing up)
Murakami’s main characters in Norwegian Wood were all of university age and this naturally placed growing up among the book’s main themes. A consistent idea this book returns to is that for most young people growing up means a painful realization that our actions impact those closest to us far more than they impact ourselves. It’s an interesting lesson to juxtapose alongside the new freedom that many experience when they reach these first years of adulthood – at the exact moment we leave home and find ourselves slowly taking more responsibility for each of our basic needs, we also become more aware of a certain responsibility to consider how our decisions affect others.
I liked how Murakami brought this lesson along in the book. First, he placed the main protagonist alongside a series of characters who remain fixed at various points along this progression. As the story progressed, the protagonist’s feelings toward these characters changed in ways reflective of how this lesson was sinking in and shaping his perspective. A good example is an older peer the protagonist looked up to at the start of the novel. This older peer gradually showed himself incapable and - more importantly - disinterested in suffering the pain of growing up, instead choosing to live by a boyish ideal of doing things only for himself. As the protagonist drifts away from this character, we recognize how it represents a step toward taking responsibility for grown-up considerations like considering the impact of our actions on others, remaining strong for those in need, and resisting the urge to feel sorry for ourselves.
Life isn’t so simple that everyone can seek a personalized version of justice or happiness. As Murakami noted, this approach would only result in chaos. People instead must challenge themselves to think beyond the self and consider how others feel. The worst result for any one person is to become indifferent to how others perceive or understand them. Therefore, it’s vital to grow up into the sort of person who can understand others and use empathy as a way to bring others together in pursuit of shared ideals and common goals.
Footnotes / endnote
0. BRUCE!!!
Can TOA use the words ‘growing up’ without thinking about this song?
No.
I liked how Murakami brought this lesson along in the book. First, he placed the main protagonist alongside a series of characters who remain fixed at various points along this progression. As the story progressed, the protagonist’s feelings toward these characters changed in ways reflective of how this lesson was sinking in and shaping his perspective. A good example is an older peer the protagonist looked up to at the start of the novel. This older peer gradually showed himself incapable and - more importantly - disinterested in suffering the pain of growing up, instead choosing to live by a boyish ideal of doing things only for himself. As the protagonist drifts away from this character, we recognize how it represents a step toward taking responsibility for grown-up considerations like considering the impact of our actions on others, remaining strong for those in need, and resisting the urge to feel sorry for ourselves.
Life isn’t so simple that everyone can seek a personalized version of justice or happiness. As Murakami noted, this approach would only result in chaos. People instead must challenge themselves to think beyond the self and consider how others feel. The worst result for any one person is to become indifferent to how others perceive or understand them. Therefore, it’s vital to grow up into the sort of person who can understand others and use empathy as a way to bring others together in pursuit of shared ideals and common goals.
Footnotes / endnote
0. BRUCE!!!
Can TOA use the words ‘growing up’ without thinking about this song?
No.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
why books don't work
I came across an interesting idea in this short essay that I thought I would comment on today. I recommend reading it in its entirety, of course (it's around a twenty minute commitment) but here's the idea I picked out that I'll focus on below:
After my inflated head returned to normal size, I thought about this conclusion again. No doubt, I'll attest to the merit of a method that longtime readers are surely familiar with - here's a reminder:
1) I read a book over several days, marking down passages to reread later
2) A week later, I return to the book to reread those passages and take notes
3) A month later, I review, trim, and organize the notes into related categories
4) In the ensuing months, I write a short essay or two (or ten)
5) Within a half-year of finishing the book, I proofread those essays and publish them on TOA
If you work through that entire timeline, it comes out to a range of between three and nine months that I'll interact with a book. That's a long time, and that's kind of the whole idea behind space repetition - instead of getting one shot at absorbing the information, you deal with it in chunks that your brain can handle and end up absorbing more of it in the end.
But here's the catch - if you add up all the time I spend on a book, it also comes out to a lot more than the initial reading investment. Writing notes, organizing categories, and all the BS of TOA - that's a lot of time. I would estimate that compared to just reading it once, I spend an additional 2-3x more time. It begs a really simple question - is my method better for retention than just reading the same book one or two more times? I have a hunch (hint: actions speak louder than words). But I'll be honest, I'm not sure I'm right. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone else is capable of being sure, either. It's not that I think anyone is lying about it - I just don't think there is any real way to know the answer for sure.
This inability to tease out the affect of accumulated time on certain observations is the most universal challenge in figuring out the cause-effect relationship for anything. Did the medicine cure me, or did my immune system just require more time? Did the new workout whip me into shape, or did my body simply respond to the increase in overall time spent exercising? The problem with absorbing information from a book might indeed have something to do with the medium - it's highly unlikely that humanity got the form of the book just right at the first moment of asking. But like with anything else, I'm inclined to suggest that a failure of retention is just a failure of time investment. The next time you think you've missed something - whether it be from a book, a conversation, or even the passing scenery - my suggestion isn't to overthink it, just slow down, and see if investing a little more time doesn't lead to a better outcome.
And at least for non-fiction books, one implied assumption at the foundation: people absorb knowledge by reading sentences. This last idea so invisibly defines the medium that it’s hard not to take for granted, which is a shame because, as we’ll see, it’s quite mistaken.It's an important idea in the context of the piece - it comes up in the very first paragraph and serves as the unofficial thesis statement for the remainder of the work. The thought obviously caught my eye right away and my interest in learning more pulled me on through the rest of the piece. By the end, the conclusion posed by the author (which I'll grossly oversimplify here) suggested that readers who interact with a book the way I do (by incorporating a version of spaced repetition with the material) would retain far more information from the book than someone who had simply read the book one time from cover to cover.
After my inflated head returned to normal size, I thought about this conclusion again. No doubt, I'll attest to the merit of a method that longtime readers are surely familiar with - here's a reminder:
1) I read a book over several days, marking down passages to reread later
2) A week later, I return to the book to reread those passages and take notes
3) A month later, I review, trim, and organize the notes into related categories
4) In the ensuing months, I write a short essay or two (or ten)
5) Within a half-year of finishing the book, I proofread those essays and publish them on TOA
If you work through that entire timeline, it comes out to a range of between three and nine months that I'll interact with a book. That's a long time, and that's kind of the whole idea behind space repetition - instead of getting one shot at absorbing the information, you deal with it in chunks that your brain can handle and end up absorbing more of it in the end.
But here's the catch - if you add up all the time I spend on a book, it also comes out to a lot more than the initial reading investment. Writing notes, organizing categories, and all the BS of TOA - that's a lot of time. I would estimate that compared to just reading it once, I spend an additional 2-3x more time. It begs a really simple question - is my method better for retention than just reading the same book one or two more times? I have a hunch (hint: actions speak louder than words). But I'll be honest, I'm not sure I'm right. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone else is capable of being sure, either. It's not that I think anyone is lying about it - I just don't think there is any real way to know the answer for sure.
This inability to tease out the affect of accumulated time on certain observations is the most universal challenge in figuring out the cause-effect relationship for anything. Did the medicine cure me, or did my immune system just require more time? Did the new workout whip me into shape, or did my body simply respond to the increase in overall time spent exercising? The problem with absorbing information from a book might indeed have something to do with the medium - it's highly unlikely that humanity got the form of the book just right at the first moment of asking. But like with anything else, I'm inclined to suggest that a failure of retention is just a failure of time investment. The next time you think you've missed something - whether it be from a book, a conversation, or even the passing scenery - my suggestion isn't to overthink it, just slow down, and see if investing a little more time doesn't lead to a better outcome.
Saturday, August 24, 2019
prop admin extensions (current events podcasts)
I mentioned in a recent(ish) post that I was conducting a trial of three podcasts in an attempt to find a new ‘current events’ show. Time for an update!
The first show was Left, Right, and Center from KCRW. It brings various journalists representing both ends of the (simplified) political continuum to discuss the week’s events. The show always produced interesting conversations and I’ll recommend it for anyone who enjoys journalists discussing politics. However, I will not be listening to any additional episodes. The show is overproduced for my tastes and the classic telltale signal of too much music between segments was the first signal.
The ending from my second-ever episode better summarizes my frustration, though. As one journalist wrapped up a thought, the host said ‘We have to leave it there’. And my thought was – no, we don’t, we don’t have to leave it there, because it was an interesting discussion that had a lot more to offer the audience. This is the most important thing about podcasts, reader – nothing has to be done. Podcasts are defined by the lack of imposed restrictions. I never understand it when hosts treat their podcasts like it’s live television. I say just let people talk, make use of the edit button if someone makes a mistake, and stop pretending the show is governed by the boundaries of 'rabbit ears' media.
You might protest, reader – you’re wrong, podcasts have limits and boundaries! I see that point but my counter is that a podcast can only limit itself. Why does a decent podcast like Fresh Air waste my time by reminding me I’m listening to Fresh Air? It's not because of some rule, it's just what Fresh Air decided to do, and it's ridiculous. Does a server stop by the table to remind diners of the name of the restaurant (hey, you’re eating at Sapporo Ramen…)? There’s a reason why podcasts are far more popular than recorded radio ever was, and a good place to understand why is in the differences between the two forms. So why try to go back in time?
Where was I? Oh right, my current events podcast search...
Let’s see, the second show I tried was The Pollsters, a show hosted by Margie Omero and Kristen Soltis Anderson. The stated purpose of the podcast is to dig into polling data, determine the validity of a given poll’s methodology, and discuss the implications of the results. I liked a lot about this show and I might try it again if I tire of my other podcasts. For now, though, I’ll pass on elevating the program into my full rotation because I’m not hugely interested in polling. Although I liked the hosts and enjoyed their discussions, I found that listening to a weekly podcast about polling is tough given my lack of interest in polling, even if said polls are almost always directly related to current events.
This brings me to Middle Theory, a podcast I liked right away. It’s just one guy talking and the style of both show and host (X) reminded me of Common Sense and its host, Dan Carlin. Middle Theory covers current events, but only tangentially, and I think this approach suits me – although I’m interested in current events, what I’ve always preferred in news coverage is perspective. It’s hard to be sure in these early days if Middle Theory is the right fit or if I’m simply distracted by the show’s similarities to Common Sense. I suppose I’m committed to finding out the hard way.
The first show was Left, Right, and Center from KCRW. It brings various journalists representing both ends of the (simplified) political continuum to discuss the week’s events. The show always produced interesting conversations and I’ll recommend it for anyone who enjoys journalists discussing politics. However, I will not be listening to any additional episodes. The show is overproduced for my tastes and the classic telltale signal of too much music between segments was the first signal.
The ending from my second-ever episode better summarizes my frustration, though. As one journalist wrapped up a thought, the host said ‘We have to leave it there’. And my thought was – no, we don’t, we don’t have to leave it there, because it was an interesting discussion that had a lot more to offer the audience. This is the most important thing about podcasts, reader – nothing has to be done. Podcasts are defined by the lack of imposed restrictions. I never understand it when hosts treat their podcasts like it’s live television. I say just let people talk, make use of the edit button if someone makes a mistake, and stop pretending the show is governed by the boundaries of 'rabbit ears' media.
You might protest, reader – you’re wrong, podcasts have limits and boundaries! I see that point but my counter is that a podcast can only limit itself. Why does a decent podcast like Fresh Air waste my time by reminding me I’m listening to Fresh Air? It's not because of some rule, it's just what Fresh Air decided to do, and it's ridiculous. Does a server stop by the table to remind diners of the name of the restaurant (hey, you’re eating at Sapporo Ramen…)? There’s a reason why podcasts are far more popular than recorded radio ever was, and a good place to understand why is in the differences between the two forms. So why try to go back in time?
Where was I? Oh right, my current events podcast search...
Let’s see, the second show I tried was The Pollsters, a show hosted by Margie Omero and Kristen Soltis Anderson. The stated purpose of the podcast is to dig into polling data, determine the validity of a given poll’s methodology, and discuss the implications of the results. I liked a lot about this show and I might try it again if I tire of my other podcasts. For now, though, I’ll pass on elevating the program into my full rotation because I’m not hugely interested in polling. Although I liked the hosts and enjoyed their discussions, I found that listening to a weekly podcast about polling is tough given my lack of interest in polling, even if said polls are almost always directly related to current events.
This brings me to Middle Theory, a podcast I liked right away. It’s just one guy talking and the style of both show and host (X) reminded me of Common Sense and its host, Dan Carlin. Middle Theory covers current events, but only tangentially, and I think this approach suits me – although I’m interested in current events, what I’ve always preferred in news coverage is perspective. It’s hard to be sure in these early days if Middle Theory is the right fit or if I’m simply distracted by the show’s similarities to Common Sense. I suppose I’m committed to finding out the hard way.
Friday, August 23, 2019
leftovers – teaching a stone to talk (the fourth wall)
This book is a bizarre case study of how the over-complicated reading cycle here at TOA prevents books from falling through the cracks (or perhaps, an over-complicated case study of the bizarre reading cycle).
The usual process looks like this:
(i) read the book
(ii) log the book in both my Google drive and an email draft
(iii) write out notes from the book
(iv) transfer the notes to both my Google drive and my personal laptop
(v) write on my laptop whatever eventually ends up on TOA
(vi) delete the book entry from my email draft
And then a few weeks later...
(vii) compare my library checkout history against the book log in my Google drive to make sure I didn’t miss anything
I'm describing all of this because last week I posted a reading review for Teaching a Stone to Talk a full year after I finished reading. Although it was a little embarrassing to admit I'd missed a book, I was also curious about how my system caught the miss and enabled me to belatedly post a reading review.
In this specific case, I originally forgot the second half of step (iv) and never transferred my notes to my laptop. I therefore was headed down the path of not writing a TOA entry for this book because I had nothing on my laptop to reference for the reading review. However, I eventually noticed that the email draft list I update in step (ii) had a lingering book from way back in 2018. This prompted me to check the blog archive and, discovering no posts about the book, I recognized my oversight.
There is a good lesson here in the value of layering multiple interlocking steps into a complex process as a means of ‘natural’ yet simple QA. This method allows me to move quickly with the admin of the process without allowing a small error in one step to spell doom for the rest of the process. In the specific context of my reading review process, I suspect would need to miss at least three full steps in the above – (ii), (iv), and (vii) – in order to completely neglect writing a TOA post about a finished book.
That combination seems highly unlikely (famous last words, of course, for a failed system). If I ever became paranoid about the possibility, I suppose I could add another routine check such as an annual comparison of my reading log against my completed posts. If I went this far, the possibility of failing to write about a given book would essentially disappear, but I'm not quite ready for that step yet.
The usual process looks like this:
(i) read the book
(ii) log the book in both my Google drive and an email draft
(iii) write out notes from the book
(iv) transfer the notes to both my Google drive and my personal laptop
(v) write on my laptop whatever eventually ends up on TOA
(vi) delete the book entry from my email draft
And then a few weeks later...
(vii) compare my library checkout history against the book log in my Google drive to make sure I didn’t miss anything
I'm describing all of this because last week I posted a reading review for Teaching a Stone to Talk a full year after I finished reading. Although it was a little embarrassing to admit I'd missed a book, I was also curious about how my system caught the miss and enabled me to belatedly post a reading review.
In this specific case, I originally forgot the second half of step (iv) and never transferred my notes to my laptop. I therefore was headed down the path of not writing a TOA entry for this book because I had nothing on my laptop to reference for the reading review. However, I eventually noticed that the email draft list I update in step (ii) had a lingering book from way back in 2018. This prompted me to check the blog archive and, discovering no posts about the book, I recognized my oversight.
There is a good lesson here in the value of layering multiple interlocking steps into a complex process as a means of ‘natural’ yet simple QA. This method allows me to move quickly with the admin of the process without allowing a small error in one step to spell doom for the rest of the process. In the specific context of my reading review process, I suspect would need to miss at least three full steps in the above – (ii), (iv), and (vii) – in order to completely neglect writing a TOA post about a finished book.
That combination seems highly unlikely (famous last words, of course, for a failed system). If I ever became paranoid about the possibility, I suppose I could add another routine check such as an annual comparison of my reading log against my completed posts. If I went this far, the possibility of failing to write about a given book would essentially disappear, but I'm not quite ready for that step yet.
Thursday, August 22, 2019
reading review - little panic (children, anxiety, and connection)
The final aspect of Little Panic that I want to highlight in my review concerns childhood anxiety and the book’s thoughts about how to help children manage their feelings. I found these ideas particularly important because like many adults I tend to avoid concerning myself with the inner life of child. Stern points out that such inattention heightens the risk of my inadvertently increasing a child’s anxiety through my own unthinking actions.
One particular action this book made me aware of was the danger of refuting a child’s feelings or experiences. This is especially true in situations where a child senses danger. A child who worries despite being in the park on a sunny day might not have a perfect grasp of risk but this is no reason to simply refute the worry and attempt to move on past the fear. Although there is no specific blueprint for these moments, it’s always important to remember that children (and most adults) find that uncertainty leads to increased anxiety. This is especially true if there is uncertainty about negative outcomes. A good starting point might be to talk through the various scenarios that are worrying the child and helping to work out the different implications of the various outcomes.
I was also intrigued by the comment that people generally resent those who do everything for them. This resentment exists even if there are good intentions. Adults who help a child confront the fear of loss by protecting the child from all of life’s difficult events are risking a certain backlash. I think this is especially likely when a child’s natural desire for autonomy and independence take him or her beyond the confines of a well-meaning adult’s protective boundaries.
A similar thought to the prior comment was how anxiety about the possibility of loss places great strain on relationships. A potential result of this strain is a conflation of loving with attachment. I thought this observation pointed to a particular contradiction, again related to a child’s natural development process. When a child begins to seek an appropriate level of independence, I suspect there will be some difficulty in the beginning if the child expressed love through attachment because the emerging urge to explore autonomy will run counter to a lifelong understanding of how love and attachment are two sides of the same coin.
There are no specific prescriptions for how an adult should help a child navigate the difficulties of growing up. A good concept to keep in mind is that for almost everyone the best ally against any challenge is a strong network of connections from which to draw strength and support. Families are a key component of this and generally the first place where a child learns how to build connection. Over time, these connections can come from any authority figure in a child’s life. The inherent vulnerability in a child can sometimes obscure the importance of connection and bias an adult toward protecting rather than connecting. It’s important to remember that certain difficult moments in life are inevitable and helping children learn the ways to navigate these tragedies by leaning on those with whom they enjoy their strongest connections is a crucial aspect of development.
One particular action this book made me aware of was the danger of refuting a child’s feelings or experiences. This is especially true in situations where a child senses danger. A child who worries despite being in the park on a sunny day might not have a perfect grasp of risk but this is no reason to simply refute the worry and attempt to move on past the fear. Although there is no specific blueprint for these moments, it’s always important to remember that children (and most adults) find that uncertainty leads to increased anxiety. This is especially true if there is uncertainty about negative outcomes. A good starting point might be to talk through the various scenarios that are worrying the child and helping to work out the different implications of the various outcomes.
I was also intrigued by the comment that people generally resent those who do everything for them. This resentment exists even if there are good intentions. Adults who help a child confront the fear of loss by protecting the child from all of life’s difficult events are risking a certain backlash. I think this is especially likely when a child’s natural desire for autonomy and independence take him or her beyond the confines of a well-meaning adult’s protective boundaries.
A similar thought to the prior comment was how anxiety about the possibility of loss places great strain on relationships. A potential result of this strain is a conflation of loving with attachment. I thought this observation pointed to a particular contradiction, again related to a child’s natural development process. When a child begins to seek an appropriate level of independence, I suspect there will be some difficulty in the beginning if the child expressed love through attachment because the emerging urge to explore autonomy will run counter to a lifelong understanding of how love and attachment are two sides of the same coin.
There are no specific prescriptions for how an adult should help a child navigate the difficulties of growing up. A good concept to keep in mind is that for almost everyone the best ally against any challenge is a strong network of connections from which to draw strength and support. Families are a key component of this and generally the first place where a child learns how to build connection. Over time, these connections can come from any authority figure in a child’s life. The inherent vulnerability in a child can sometimes obscure the importance of connection and bias an adult toward protecting rather than connecting. It’s important to remember that certain difficult moments in life are inevitable and helping children learn the ways to navigate these tragedies by leaning on those with whom they enjoy their strongest connections is a crucial aspect of development.
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
reading review - mom and me and mom
Mom & Me & Mom by Maya Angelou (February 2019)
As I’ve done annually for some reason I’ve long forgotten, I ushered in a new year by reading one of Maya Angelou’s autobiographies. This year’s selection was Mom and Me and Mom, a book written entirely about her relationship with her mother (1).
There are certain obvious insights that emerged from this book – my first note is simply ‘love heals and liberates’. I also thought the comment that the isolated need reminders that they exist - and that their lives matter - was a fitting thought in this book because I believe people who have strong relationships with their mothers never suffer from isolation.
The remaining comments I noted from this book are less directly related to mothers (though I think it’s a fair assumption that they are included in the book because Angelou learned these lessons from her mother). The definition of generosity – giving others a kind word, a vote of confidence, or just helping them smile – is one such example. I also liked the reminders about the importance of clear communication – the only way to ever be sure is to ask, for one, or that in some ambiguous moments it’s important to clarify that there might be neither right or wrong.
The last note I took down is the kind of thought that spurred on my own thinking about a topic – people get taken advantage of when they think they can get something for nothing. I understand the basic application of the concept and agree about the importance of knowing what is ‘too good to be true’. However, I do think it’s valuable to have a certain willingness to be taken advantage of from time to time by remaining open to the possibility of giving something and receiving nothing in return. I mention this not just because I think it’s difficult to achieve anything great without taking calculated risks but also because it speaks to a certain reality about parenting in particular and building strong relationships in general – at some point, we’re going to be let down, but that possibility is no excuse for withholding the best of our generosity, effort, or love.
Footnotes
1. How do good traditions end?
I suspect that every year I’ve written the same thing about Angelou’s autobiographies – I love the writing but find less to note in comparison to my other reading. Those exasperated by my threadbare responses to her work will surely be delighted to learn that Mom and Me and Mom was the last of her autobiographies.
So, what next for my annual tradition? I took a look through her work and decided that next year I’ll give an essay collection a try. Ideally, I’ll find more of the direct insight and wisdom that tends to catch my eye while reading without losing the joy of Angelou’s writing style.
I suppose in some ways Mom and Me and Mom was essentially an essay collection. Its focus on one specific theme from her life, the nonlinear presentation of the chapters, and a refusal to link ideas by their relationship within narrative are all hallmarks of a collection rather than an autobiography. I don’t pretend that one way or the other makes for better reading but longtime TOA readers will surely agree that my preference is for the latter.
As I’ve done annually for some reason I’ve long forgotten, I ushered in a new year by reading one of Maya Angelou’s autobiographies. This year’s selection was Mom and Me and Mom, a book written entirely about her relationship with her mother (1).
There are certain obvious insights that emerged from this book – my first note is simply ‘love heals and liberates’. I also thought the comment that the isolated need reminders that they exist - and that their lives matter - was a fitting thought in this book because I believe people who have strong relationships with their mothers never suffer from isolation.
The remaining comments I noted from this book are less directly related to mothers (though I think it’s a fair assumption that they are included in the book because Angelou learned these lessons from her mother). The definition of generosity – giving others a kind word, a vote of confidence, or just helping them smile – is one such example. I also liked the reminders about the importance of clear communication – the only way to ever be sure is to ask, for one, or that in some ambiguous moments it’s important to clarify that there might be neither right or wrong.
The last note I took down is the kind of thought that spurred on my own thinking about a topic – people get taken advantage of when they think they can get something for nothing. I understand the basic application of the concept and agree about the importance of knowing what is ‘too good to be true’. However, I do think it’s valuable to have a certain willingness to be taken advantage of from time to time by remaining open to the possibility of giving something and receiving nothing in return. I mention this not just because I think it’s difficult to achieve anything great without taking calculated risks but also because it speaks to a certain reality about parenting in particular and building strong relationships in general – at some point, we’re going to be let down, but that possibility is no excuse for withholding the best of our generosity, effort, or love.
Footnotes
1. How do good traditions end?
I suspect that every year I’ve written the same thing about Angelou’s autobiographies – I love the writing but find less to note in comparison to my other reading. Those exasperated by my threadbare responses to her work will surely be delighted to learn that Mom and Me and Mom was the last of her autobiographies.
So, what next for my annual tradition? I took a look through her work and decided that next year I’ll give an essay collection a try. Ideally, I’ll find more of the direct insight and wisdom that tends to catch my eye while reading without losing the joy of Angelou’s writing style.
I suppose in some ways Mom and Me and Mom was essentially an essay collection. Its focus on one specific theme from her life, the nonlinear presentation of the chapters, and a refusal to link ideas by their relationship within narrative are all hallmarks of a collection rather than an autobiography. I don’t pretend that one way or the other makes for better reading but longtime TOA readers will surely agree that my preference is for the latter.
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
rereading review - one hundred years of solitude
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (December 2018)
I first read Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 1967 classic in high school as part of a summer homework assignment for my Spanish class. I know in hindsight that I hardly understood a syllable. This does seem a shame in a certain way but doesn’t bother me all that much. After rereading this book a couple of times in recent years, I’ve recognized that the book’s main lessons would have been very difficult for me to relate to over a decade ago.
One such lesson is how as a person ages his or her perception of time’s passage can shift from linear to circular. I can relate to this as I notice the ways I’ve repeated past behavior or fallen back on familiar ways of thinking. Though the faces and places change, my central role in the story means a certain familiar pattern of cause and effect emerges to dictate the plot. There was no way for me to appreciate this insight in high school, a time defined by the linear construction of growing up that offered forward momentum as a compelling explanation for what I now recognize as centripetal motion.
I have a similar reaction to the thought that our habits and routines often prevent us from finding lost things. After all, isn’t the first step in a search to retrace our steps? Marquez notes that life in these situations moves forward not in the way circular motion defines progression in the wheel but rather in how a broken axle forces the driver to find a new vehicle. This thought would have made no impact on me in high school because I was so focused on the journey ahead that I was unaware of what I was leaving behind me. It is again now, with the illusion of a linear life permanently discarded, that I am capable of comprehending the lesson. I suppose we are all like moons, our positions ultimately dependent solely on the whims of our assigned planet despite the diligence with which we keep to our orbits.
Speaking of analogies, let’s return to the broken axle. I like the comparison but must point out that sometimes a broken axle convinces a driver to stop wandering and put down permanent roots. This insight best applies when another’s death causes the axle to splinter. What’s interesting, I suppose, is that the wheels can shoot off in opposite directions when their shared connection breaks. I suppose this isn’t much different from how objects in the same orbit can shoot off in any direction once their bond to the planet is lost. I wonder if this is what Marquez meant when he noted that people’s feelings toward a place change as soon as someone is buried in its ground. For now, I understand that a burial is the starting point of a journey regardless of whether it physically takes us anywhere. I suppose that’s a lesson I can think more about the next time when I – inevitably – circle back to read this book once again.
I first read Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 1967 classic in high school as part of a summer homework assignment for my Spanish class. I know in hindsight that I hardly understood a syllable. This does seem a shame in a certain way but doesn’t bother me all that much. After rereading this book a couple of times in recent years, I’ve recognized that the book’s main lessons would have been very difficult for me to relate to over a decade ago.
One such lesson is how as a person ages his or her perception of time’s passage can shift from linear to circular. I can relate to this as I notice the ways I’ve repeated past behavior or fallen back on familiar ways of thinking. Though the faces and places change, my central role in the story means a certain familiar pattern of cause and effect emerges to dictate the plot. There was no way for me to appreciate this insight in high school, a time defined by the linear construction of growing up that offered forward momentum as a compelling explanation for what I now recognize as centripetal motion.
I have a similar reaction to the thought that our habits and routines often prevent us from finding lost things. After all, isn’t the first step in a search to retrace our steps? Marquez notes that life in these situations moves forward not in the way circular motion defines progression in the wheel but rather in how a broken axle forces the driver to find a new vehicle. This thought would have made no impact on me in high school because I was so focused on the journey ahead that I was unaware of what I was leaving behind me. It is again now, with the illusion of a linear life permanently discarded, that I am capable of comprehending the lesson. I suppose we are all like moons, our positions ultimately dependent solely on the whims of our assigned planet despite the diligence with which we keep to our orbits.
Speaking of analogies, let’s return to the broken axle. I like the comparison but must point out that sometimes a broken axle convinces a driver to stop wandering and put down permanent roots. This insight best applies when another’s death causes the axle to splinter. What’s interesting, I suppose, is that the wheels can shoot off in opposite directions when their shared connection breaks. I suppose this isn’t much different from how objects in the same orbit can shoot off in any direction once their bond to the planet is lost. I wonder if this is what Marquez meant when he noted that people’s feelings toward a place change as soon as someone is buried in its ground. For now, I understand that a burial is the starting point of a journey regardless of whether it physically takes us anywhere. I suppose that’s a lesson I can think more about the next time when I – inevitably – circle back to read this book once again.
Monday, August 19, 2019
rereading review - norwegian wood (how to lose)
One consistent theme of Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood was about how to live well in the face of life’s eternal challenges. What is the best way forward when life taps us on the shoulder and reminds us of the ever-present threat of loss, grief, or regret?
A promising approach grows out of the reminder that people who pass up opportunities for happiness will regret it for the rest of their lives. It’s a foundation for thinking about general guidelines for the good life – if passing up happiness means regret, we should try to help ourselves (and others) find happiness. It also presents an insight into those leading misguided lives – people who reinforce strength, energy, or resolve despite failing to make themselves or others happier must reevaluate their chosen path in life.
Of course, this conclusion runs the risk of oversimplifying the complexity of loss. A loss at the end of a long struggle is sometimes like a reprieve, especially if this entailed a daily and consuming effort for an indefinite period of time, but this reprieve hardly represents an invitation to seek new opportunities for those drained and grieving after the struggle. A sudden loss can work in much the same way if survivors are left feeling robbed of what was anticipated or expected, especially regarding upcoming life stages that many others happily experience without them. Again, the grief after such a loss is hardly fertile ground for sowing new seeds and establishing new foundations.
One of the lessons I liked from this book was that people who use themselves in unnatural forms become depleted. It applies to the above, I think, because moving forward too quickly after a loss is a good example of an unnatural step. The grieving and suffering should find ways to recover their strength and renew their energy so that they can open their hearts in the process of growing beyond their hurt and once more seek new opportunities for happiness.
A promising approach grows out of the reminder that people who pass up opportunities for happiness will regret it for the rest of their lives. It’s a foundation for thinking about general guidelines for the good life – if passing up happiness means regret, we should try to help ourselves (and others) find happiness. It also presents an insight into those leading misguided lives – people who reinforce strength, energy, or resolve despite failing to make themselves or others happier must reevaluate their chosen path in life.
Of course, this conclusion runs the risk of oversimplifying the complexity of loss. A loss at the end of a long struggle is sometimes like a reprieve, especially if this entailed a daily and consuming effort for an indefinite period of time, but this reprieve hardly represents an invitation to seek new opportunities for those drained and grieving after the struggle. A sudden loss can work in much the same way if survivors are left feeling robbed of what was anticipated or expected, especially regarding upcoming life stages that many others happily experience without them. Again, the grief after such a loss is hardly fertile ground for sowing new seeds and establishing new foundations.
One of the lessons I liked from this book was that people who use themselves in unnatural forms become depleted. It applies to the above, I think, because moving forward too quickly after a loss is a good example of an unnatural step. The grieving and suffering should find ways to recover their strength and renew their energy so that they can open their hearts in the process of growing beyond their hurt and once more seek new opportunities for happiness.
Sunday, August 18, 2019
proper admin - daily resolutions, part 6
Finally, the end – today’s sixth and final installment takes a closer look at the last block on my daily reminders list. Unlike with the way the reminders from the previous five sections were arranged on my list, today's reminders start with a header (bold and italicized) followed by several supporting thoughts (italicized). To follow the pattern set so far in these 'daily resolution' reviews, I've broken up my comments to address each line in this final section.
An artist must make time for the long periods of solitude
This is a good reminder to have around anytime I've felt the creative possibilities of solitude have been lost in the downward pull of loneliness. There are days when making time for creative work feels like an endlessly pointless task. The will to do the same thing the next day sometimes comes down to simply acknowledging that the first step to creating anything is making time for the necessary solitude.
Be a good steward to your gifts
Sheryl Sandberg wrote in Lean In about a problem she called Tiara Syndrome - the problem of sitting around and waiting for someone to acknowledge your accomplishments rather than becoming your own best advocate. If this is a problem in the modern workplace (where people are paid to notice when other people do well) then it must be an epidemic in the creative world.
This reminder ensures I notice when I undersell myself or my abilities and prompts me to consider how I might do things differently the next time.
Protect your time
One thing I noticed at my most recent job was how regularly people scheduled themselves into each other's calendars. It wasn't a huge problem, it just reflected the company culture of assuming that you could use other people's time better than them.
Email is designed to work in a similar way. Again, not a huge problem, but email is how other people add themselves into my to-do list without consideration of how I might have envisioned the optimal use of my time, effort, and attention.
Of course, these aren't perfect examples because my reminder deals with creative work while workplace calendars and email are different beasts. My examples essentially can survive the destructive effect of interruption while this isn't always the case with creative work. When creating, an artist must understand what brings out his or her gift, set aside the time for the gift to express itself, and fight like mad to protect that allocated time.
Feed your inner life
What does 'inner life' mean? For me, it invokes an image of a seed sending its roots into the surrounding dirt - the dirt is what everyone sees today while the roots drive the ways I want to change that for tomorrow.
The surface reveals nothing even if what lies underneath is a thirst for anything that brings out the full potential. Like the way we water a plant, give it sunlight, and ensure it space to grow, we must look for those little moments when our inner life makes itself heard and give it the same kind of nourishment, attention, and space.
Avoid too much noise
I read once (I think it was from John O'Donohue) that the soul is like a wild animal - though it's always just out of sight, we know it will emerge when it's ready. Noise to the soul is the same as it is for the wild animal - suddenly, what my have reluctantly emerged scurries further out of sight, perhaps never to be seen again. When a soul goes into hiding, it takes with it our longing to express our creative gifts and connect to the eternal that beckons in all.
Read good books
Many compare the creative act to finding new ways to combine old ideas. For me, the best way to collect old ideas is by reading books, one after the other, and finding ways to revisit these systematically to bolster my retentive skills.
Have good sentences in your ears
I originally thought of this line as an external reminder about having certain messages directed toward me. Over time, my filters have improved and it's less important now to hear the right words. I've started to realize lately that the sentences that stay in my ears are rarely echoes but rather commentary, driven from within, and knowing how to parse my own narrative to identify negative self talk and shut myself up as needed is far more useful than relying on everyone around me to say the right things.
Be by yourself as often as you can
This has nothing to do with solitude. Rather, it's a reminder about influences and how it's often easier to get caught up in the rhythm or flow of others at the cost of our individuality. We can be by ourselves even when surrounded by others if we remain loyal to ourselves and willing to express our individuality. It's great practice for creative work because when we come to the crossroads and must choose between what others want to hear and what we have to say, we know what to do because we've done it before and we'll do it again.
Walk
I used to think I walked. I'd go from here and there in the city, moving at a good rate, and always with headphones plugged in. I always walked with something in mind - a destination, a method, a purpose. If I forgot my headphones or had accidentally allowed my iPod to run out of battery, I looked through my phone and tried to find someone to call.
This went on for quite some time until, one day, I started walking.
Now, I keep my eyes active, my ears open, and my head up. I haven't had headphones with me in over three years. I usually keep my phone on silent mode. I do usually walk with a destination in mind but I try to leave myself enough time for stopping, wandering, and contemplation.
In short, I learned that the difference between walking and walking is the way it feeds the creative mind. After thirty-one years, I suppose it's about time I started walking.
Take the phone off the hook
I suppose the idea of a phone 'off the hook' defines quaint these days but the spirit of the idea has more relevance than ever. The phone - regardless of its form - defines the interrupted mind. What worthwhile thing was ever created in sporadic ten second bursts?
Work regular hours
It does mean nine to five, I think, but it also speaks to anything we cannot accomplish without our focused effort. If writing well means working in the morning, working regular hours mean writing in the morning. There is in any task a natural rhythm that we can leverage to bring out the best of our ability - working against this grain will only lead to a labored, substandard, and inauthentic result.
A possum Jackson Pollock is painted on the tar
Creativity is not just a question of how we create in the world but also how we interpret what is already in the world around us. There is art in all things but only through glasses tinted with the creative glaze can we ever...
...what?
...fine.
OK, so that's not from my 'daily reminders', that's from Courtney Barnett's 'Dead Fox'. But hey, this was starting to feel like a bit of a riff off, and who better to end one?
Thanks for reading, all.
An artist must make time for the long periods of solitude
This is a good reminder to have around anytime I've felt the creative possibilities of solitude have been lost in the downward pull of loneliness. There are days when making time for creative work feels like an endlessly pointless task. The will to do the same thing the next day sometimes comes down to simply acknowledging that the first step to creating anything is making time for the necessary solitude.
Be a good steward to your gifts
Sheryl Sandberg wrote in Lean In about a problem she called Tiara Syndrome - the problem of sitting around and waiting for someone to acknowledge your accomplishments rather than becoming your own best advocate. If this is a problem in the modern workplace (where people are paid to notice when other people do well) then it must be an epidemic in the creative world.
This reminder ensures I notice when I undersell myself or my abilities and prompts me to consider how I might do things differently the next time.
Protect your time
One thing I noticed at my most recent job was how regularly people scheduled themselves into each other's calendars. It wasn't a huge problem, it just reflected the company culture of assuming that you could use other people's time better than them.
Email is designed to work in a similar way. Again, not a huge problem, but email is how other people add themselves into my to-do list without consideration of how I might have envisioned the optimal use of my time, effort, and attention.
Of course, these aren't perfect examples because my reminder deals with creative work while workplace calendars and email are different beasts. My examples essentially can survive the destructive effect of interruption while this isn't always the case with creative work. When creating, an artist must understand what brings out his or her gift, set aside the time for the gift to express itself, and fight like mad to protect that allocated time.
Feed your inner life
What does 'inner life' mean? For me, it invokes an image of a seed sending its roots into the surrounding dirt - the dirt is what everyone sees today while the roots drive the ways I want to change that for tomorrow.
The surface reveals nothing even if what lies underneath is a thirst for anything that brings out the full potential. Like the way we water a plant, give it sunlight, and ensure it space to grow, we must look for those little moments when our inner life makes itself heard and give it the same kind of nourishment, attention, and space.
Avoid too much noise
I read once (I think it was from John O'Donohue) that the soul is like a wild animal - though it's always just out of sight, we know it will emerge when it's ready. Noise to the soul is the same as it is for the wild animal - suddenly, what my have reluctantly emerged scurries further out of sight, perhaps never to be seen again. When a soul goes into hiding, it takes with it our longing to express our creative gifts and connect to the eternal that beckons in all.
Read good books
Many compare the creative act to finding new ways to combine old ideas. For me, the best way to collect old ideas is by reading books, one after the other, and finding ways to revisit these systematically to bolster my retentive skills.
Have good sentences in your ears
I originally thought of this line as an external reminder about having certain messages directed toward me. Over time, my filters have improved and it's less important now to hear the right words. I've started to realize lately that the sentences that stay in my ears are rarely echoes but rather commentary, driven from within, and knowing how to parse my own narrative to identify negative self talk and shut myself up as needed is far more useful than relying on everyone around me to say the right things.
Be by yourself as often as you can
This has nothing to do with solitude. Rather, it's a reminder about influences and how it's often easier to get caught up in the rhythm or flow of others at the cost of our individuality. We can be by ourselves even when surrounded by others if we remain loyal to ourselves and willing to express our individuality. It's great practice for creative work because when we come to the crossroads and must choose between what others want to hear and what we have to say, we know what to do because we've done it before and we'll do it again.
Walk
I used to think I walked. I'd go from here and there in the city, moving at a good rate, and always with headphones plugged in. I always walked with something in mind - a destination, a method, a purpose. If I forgot my headphones or had accidentally allowed my iPod to run out of battery, I looked through my phone and tried to find someone to call.
This went on for quite some time until, one day, I started walking.
Now, I keep my eyes active, my ears open, and my head up. I haven't had headphones with me in over three years. I usually keep my phone on silent mode. I do usually walk with a destination in mind but I try to leave myself enough time for stopping, wandering, and contemplation.
In short, I learned that the difference between walking and walking is the way it feeds the creative mind. After thirty-one years, I suppose it's about time I started walking.
Take the phone off the hook
I suppose the idea of a phone 'off the hook' defines quaint these days but the spirit of the idea has more relevance than ever. The phone - regardless of its form - defines the interrupted mind. What worthwhile thing was ever created in sporadic ten second bursts?
Work regular hours
It does mean nine to five, I think, but it also speaks to anything we cannot accomplish without our focused effort. If writing well means working in the morning, working regular hours mean writing in the morning. There is in any task a natural rhythm that we can leverage to bring out the best of our ability - working against this grain will only lead to a labored, substandard, and inauthentic result.
A possum Jackson Pollock is painted on the tar
Creativity is not just a question of how we create in the world but also how we interpret what is already in the world around us. There is art in all things but only through glasses tinted with the creative glaze can we ever...
...what?
...fine.
OK, so that's not from my 'daily reminders', that's from Courtney Barnett's 'Dead Fox'. But hey, this was starting to feel like a bit of a riff off, and who better to end one?
Thanks for reading, all.
Saturday, August 17, 2019
reading review - teaching a stone to talk
Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard (August 2018)
Teaching a Stone to Talk is a series of reflective essays about Annie Dillard’s experiences in nature. Among many excellent pieces, I reread ‘On A Hill Far Away’, ‘The Deer At Providencia’, and the first part of ‘An Expedition to the Pole’.
I sometimes struggle to identify a common thread in an essay collection but in this work I recognized the major theme as having to live within the contradiction of two extremes. This concept was like a wild animal, appearing fleetingly in some pieces while standing defiantly out in the open in others. My first note rather whimsically points out the challenge mind and body pose for each other – the mind wishes only to live forever whereas the body requires only news regarding the next meal – and I felt this thought helped Dillard establish the right tone for her subsequent musings.
Perhaps the most significant internal contradiction for any person is the balance of the younger self with the present self. At some point, the child who could hardly stand the long hours between lunch and dinner looks back and realizes that months and years have gone by in an indistinguishable blur. This is a certain kind of loss, a first death in a way, and only through an act of will can a person retain loyalty to a past self throughout the natural process of aging.
It is all in some way like seeing the stars – the wanderer must sacrifice all versions of artificial illumination before the full light from above reveals itself. Life is in many ways a series of compromises between ideals and realities and this leaves us pondering false dualities. It’s the power of the soul that guides us in the shrinking space between such extremes. The soul reconciles our desire for immortality with our self-destructive behavior and bridges the gap between our youthful dreams and our present-day limitations. It’s the soul that recognizes the true nature of existence so that we can let go and endure the darkness, knowing all the while that sometimes this is the only way to see the true light.
One up: I noted that anyone who reads ‘Total Eclipse’ would make plans to go see the next one because the way Dillard describes the phenomenon of night suddenly appearing in midday is so compelling it made me wish to see it for myself. Fortunately, the next one isn’t too far away – according to this link, the next North American one is in 2024. If I'm around, I'll probably go check it out.
One down: Dillard points out in one essay that there is no such thing as a solitary polar explorer. Modern technology (or perhaps global warming) may one day recast this insight as a failure of imagination. However, broadly applied I believe the analogy holds – a person who wishes to explore the extreme end of a balanced duality should do so with help to guard against the danger of inadvertently exploring beyond the point of no return.
Just saying: I actually forgot to write about this book when I initially read it (this is why I am posting today about a book I read a year ago). How did this happen? All will be revealed when I take you behind the fourth wall in a leftover post later this week.
Footnotes / endnote / podnote
0. After I read this...
One of my favorite podcasts, Book Fight, reviewed and discussed 'Total Eclipse' on this episode. Spoiler alert: they didn't seem as impressed as me.
Teaching a Stone to Talk is a series of reflective essays about Annie Dillard’s experiences in nature. Among many excellent pieces, I reread ‘On A Hill Far Away’, ‘The Deer At Providencia’, and the first part of ‘An Expedition to the Pole’.
I sometimes struggle to identify a common thread in an essay collection but in this work I recognized the major theme as having to live within the contradiction of two extremes. This concept was like a wild animal, appearing fleetingly in some pieces while standing defiantly out in the open in others. My first note rather whimsically points out the challenge mind and body pose for each other – the mind wishes only to live forever whereas the body requires only news regarding the next meal – and I felt this thought helped Dillard establish the right tone for her subsequent musings.
Perhaps the most significant internal contradiction for any person is the balance of the younger self with the present self. At some point, the child who could hardly stand the long hours between lunch and dinner looks back and realizes that months and years have gone by in an indistinguishable blur. This is a certain kind of loss, a first death in a way, and only through an act of will can a person retain loyalty to a past self throughout the natural process of aging.
It is all in some way like seeing the stars – the wanderer must sacrifice all versions of artificial illumination before the full light from above reveals itself. Life is in many ways a series of compromises between ideals and realities and this leaves us pondering false dualities. It’s the power of the soul that guides us in the shrinking space between such extremes. The soul reconciles our desire for immortality with our self-destructive behavior and bridges the gap between our youthful dreams and our present-day limitations. It’s the soul that recognizes the true nature of existence so that we can let go and endure the darkness, knowing all the while that sometimes this is the only way to see the true light.
One up: I noted that anyone who reads ‘Total Eclipse’ would make plans to go see the next one because the way Dillard describes the phenomenon of night suddenly appearing in midday is so compelling it made me wish to see it for myself. Fortunately, the next one isn’t too far away – according to this link, the next North American one is in 2024. If I'm around, I'll probably go check it out.
One down: Dillard points out in one essay that there is no such thing as a solitary polar explorer. Modern technology (or perhaps global warming) may one day recast this insight as a failure of imagination. However, broadly applied I believe the analogy holds – a person who wishes to explore the extreme end of a balanced duality should do so with help to guard against the danger of inadvertently exploring beyond the point of no return.
Just saying: I actually forgot to write about this book when I initially read it (this is why I am posting today about a book I read a year ago). How did this happen? All will be revealed when I take you behind the fourth wall in a leftover post later this week.
Footnotes / endnote / podnote
0. After I read this...
One of my favorite podcasts, Book Fight, reviewed and discussed 'Total Eclipse' on this episode. Spoiler alert: they didn't seem as impressed as me.
Friday, August 16, 2019
reading review - little panic (assumptions)
One topic I thought Little Panic explored very well was the role assumptions play when people harm their relationships with each other. These assumptions can take many forms. One common way is to assign labels to another that do not apply to the person in question. An incorrect label is a good way to shut down the communication channels in a relationship for a number of reasons.
First, those who apply labels are no longer accepting of the real people in front of them, instead insisting that others become the type of person they prefer (or know how) to deal with. They might also read too much into someone else’s behavior and reach incorrect conclusions about how another person feels toward them. This kind of guesswork is silly because there are simply far too many reasons for why anything happens - any person trying to guess these reasons is a futile exercise. Instead of creating labels and then explaining observed behavior in the context of the label, people should openly observe what happens in front of them and ask questions about the things they do not understand.
Second, people receiving labels generally struggle to contort themselves within the boundaries or definitions imposed by the label. It’s a sure way to suppress honest self-expression because the task of living up to a label requires concealment of certain contradicting character traits or personal preferences. Over time, as outsiders see only the decoy, a person will feel that the truth about who they are is contained within the unknown or undiscovered parts of the self. This will eventually force the communication path in a relationship to a superficial level at best with the risk of it eventually giving way under the pressure of maintaining a false persona.
As I reflected on how Little Panic thought about assumptions, I thought that the unifying message was how people who only want what’s best for themselves are generally bad news for others. The simple assumption is an admittedly benign expression of this theme but I do feel it fits very well into the overarching idea. When we make assumptions, we tend to create explanations about others that are convenient for our circumstances, preferences, or aspirations. Even when we make benevolent assumptions and try to think about what is best for someone else, we are really only thinking about what is best for someone else within the limitations of our own understanding about the other person. In most cases, I think it’s preferable to remain open to experience and ask questions to broaden our understanding.
First, those who apply labels are no longer accepting of the real people in front of them, instead insisting that others become the type of person they prefer (or know how) to deal with. They might also read too much into someone else’s behavior and reach incorrect conclusions about how another person feels toward them. This kind of guesswork is silly because there are simply far too many reasons for why anything happens - any person trying to guess these reasons is a futile exercise. Instead of creating labels and then explaining observed behavior in the context of the label, people should openly observe what happens in front of them and ask questions about the things they do not understand.
Second, people receiving labels generally struggle to contort themselves within the boundaries or definitions imposed by the label. It’s a sure way to suppress honest self-expression because the task of living up to a label requires concealment of certain contradicting character traits or personal preferences. Over time, as outsiders see only the decoy, a person will feel that the truth about who they are is contained within the unknown or undiscovered parts of the self. This will eventually force the communication path in a relationship to a superficial level at best with the risk of it eventually giving way under the pressure of maintaining a false persona.
As I reflected on how Little Panic thought about assumptions, I thought that the unifying message was how people who only want what’s best for themselves are generally bad news for others. The simple assumption is an admittedly benign expression of this theme but I do feel it fits very well into the overarching idea. When we make assumptions, we tend to create explanations about others that are convenient for our circumstances, preferences, or aspirations. Even when we make benevolent assumptions and try to think about what is best for someone else, we are really only thinking about what is best for someone else within the limitations of our own understanding about the other person. In most cases, I think it’s preferable to remain open to experience and ask questions to broaden our understanding.
Thursday, August 15, 2019
rereading review - norwegian wood
Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami (January 2019)
Haruki Murakami’s regular position atop worldwide bestseller lists owes much to his first major success, Norwegian Wood. This 1987 novel put the Japanese novelist on the international map and has left readers over the ensuing three decades eagerly awaiting his newest release.
It was challenging for me to determine exactly what I thought about this book. It wasn’t my favorite of his works, my conclusion based mostly on how little I recall about the book just four months after rereading, but I did zip through the novel and that’s usually a good sign regarding my reading experience.
I was pleasantly surprised to find a handful of good insight tucked into the notes I took on Norwegian Wood. Those should be enough for an additional post or two over the next few days. For today, I thought I would be too clever for my own good and use some thoughts from Norwegian Wood to tear down the fourth wall of these reading reviews.
One up: Norwegian Wood starts with the protagonist reminiscing about a time from two decades ago. Murakami notes here that in addition to all the standard losses in life such as friends, times, and places, memories are also subject to eventual disappearance. This thought ties closely to the point of these reading reviews – without them, I fear I would lose some of the lessons and ideas I experienced while reading.
One down: Murakami writes in one scene that people sometimes develop habits and routines as a survival technique. For these people, change forces them to confront their fear of losing control. A similar thought pointed out that someone going on in great detail about the trivial or inane might simply be avoiding another topic. I thought both of these insights suggested the danger in a routine reading review because using a regular structure is a convenient way to hide my ignorance or discomfort in writing about certain ideas that emerged from a given reading experience.
The fourth wall: The one major ‘behind the scenes’ insight about a reading review is the difficulty of removing ideas from the final draft. It is like one of Norwegian Wood’s many lessons – being surrounded by endless possibilities means it will be very difficult to pass any of them up.
The fourth law: It’s easy to think too much about these reading reviews and ask myself – what is the point? What is the point of hammering these out while the rest of the world passes right on by, drinking and carousing in the streets of Beacon Hill? I’m reminded of a thought from this book about grammar – although it has no concrete daily purpose, it does equip students to think systematically about large, complex concepts. My goal is something similar – although the reading reviews alone are pointless (and are doomed to remain so), the process of sorting, selecting, and synthesizing my notes is good practice for applying certain vital skills in my life outside TOA.
Just saying: The key to being a good conversationalist isn’t much different from figuring out these reading reviews – the task is to the find the most interesting things someone said (or wrote) even if that person isn’t saying (or writing) anything interesting.
Haruki Murakami’s regular position atop worldwide bestseller lists owes much to his first major success, Norwegian Wood. This 1987 novel put the Japanese novelist on the international map and has left readers over the ensuing three decades eagerly awaiting his newest release.
It was challenging for me to determine exactly what I thought about this book. It wasn’t my favorite of his works, my conclusion based mostly on how little I recall about the book just four months after rereading, but I did zip through the novel and that’s usually a good sign regarding my reading experience.
I was pleasantly surprised to find a handful of good insight tucked into the notes I took on Norwegian Wood. Those should be enough for an additional post or two over the next few days. For today, I thought I would be too clever for my own good and use some thoughts from Norwegian Wood to tear down the fourth wall of these reading reviews.
One up: Norwegian Wood starts with the protagonist reminiscing about a time from two decades ago. Murakami notes here that in addition to all the standard losses in life such as friends, times, and places, memories are also subject to eventual disappearance. This thought ties closely to the point of these reading reviews – without them, I fear I would lose some of the lessons and ideas I experienced while reading.
One down: Murakami writes in one scene that people sometimes develop habits and routines as a survival technique. For these people, change forces them to confront their fear of losing control. A similar thought pointed out that someone going on in great detail about the trivial or inane might simply be avoiding another topic. I thought both of these insights suggested the danger in a routine reading review because using a regular structure is a convenient way to hide my ignorance or discomfort in writing about certain ideas that emerged from a given reading experience.
The fourth wall: The one major ‘behind the scenes’ insight about a reading review is the difficulty of removing ideas from the final draft. It is like one of Norwegian Wood’s many lessons – being surrounded by endless possibilities means it will be very difficult to pass any of them up.
The fourth law: It’s easy to think too much about these reading reviews and ask myself – what is the point? What is the point of hammering these out while the rest of the world passes right on by, drinking and carousing in the streets of Beacon Hill? I’m reminded of a thought from this book about grammar – although it has no concrete daily purpose, it does equip students to think systematically about large, complex concepts. My goal is something similar – although the reading reviews alone are pointless (and are doomed to remain so), the process of sorting, selecting, and synthesizing my notes is good practice for applying certain vital skills in my life outside TOA.
Just saying: The key to being a good conversationalist isn’t much different from figuring out these reading reviews – the task is to the find the most interesting things someone said (or wrote) even if that person isn’t saying (or writing) anything interesting.
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
rereading review - threads
Threads by Kate Evans (January 2019)
I thought one of the most interesting comments in Threads was that setting a fine for people smuggling essentially sets the minimum price for refugees trying to make it across a border. The mechanism is fairly simple from an economic perspective – if caught, the smuggler is responsible for paying the fine and therefore will require compensation to ensure that ‘expenses’ are covered.
This note is an example of the way economics always lurks in the background of Threads. Another good example is the idea of open borders. Economists generally predict the future will see increasingly open borders because the benefits are too much to ignore forever. The underlying idea is that if people move away from where they cannot work to places where work is available, they are able to work and therefore able to produce greater output. From a certain point of view, the refugee crisis is just another step toward this future.
The proponents who argue that the refugee crisis is another economic opportunity might not win points on the moral or ethical scale but they will be directly addressing the concerns raised by their opponents. A common argument against immigration is that it lacks economic benefit – this has been refuted many times by various researchers. A more compelling perspective to me is that nations where people struggle with poverty should not accept refugees until its problems at home are resolved. I agree with the principle but I don’t think any of these countries are doing anything about poverty, either, that justifies turning away refugees fleeing war-torn areas. Instead of arguing against accepting refugees – who represent a long-term anti-poverty measure anyway through their contribution to GDP – these opponents should argue against the austerity measures that slow or reverse the transfer of wealth from rich to poor and challenge their leaders to solve rather than merely acknowledge the problems of poverty at home.
I thought one of the most interesting comments in Threads was that setting a fine for people smuggling essentially sets the minimum price for refugees trying to make it across a border. The mechanism is fairly simple from an economic perspective – if caught, the smuggler is responsible for paying the fine and therefore will require compensation to ensure that ‘expenses’ are covered.
This note is an example of the way economics always lurks in the background of Threads. Another good example is the idea of open borders. Economists generally predict the future will see increasingly open borders because the benefits are too much to ignore forever. The underlying idea is that if people move away from where they cannot work to places where work is available, they are able to work and therefore able to produce greater output. From a certain point of view, the refugee crisis is just another step toward this future.
The proponents who argue that the refugee crisis is another economic opportunity might not win points on the moral or ethical scale but they will be directly addressing the concerns raised by their opponents. A common argument against immigration is that it lacks economic benefit – this has been refuted many times by various researchers. A more compelling perspective to me is that nations where people struggle with poverty should not accept refugees until its problems at home are resolved. I agree with the principle but I don’t think any of these countries are doing anything about poverty, either, that justifies turning away refugees fleeing war-torn areas. Instead of arguing against accepting refugees – who represent a long-term anti-poverty measure anyway through their contribution to GDP – these opponents should argue against the austerity measures that slow or reverse the transfer of wealth from rich to poor and challenge their leaders to solve rather than merely acknowledge the problems of poverty at home.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
rereading review - colorless tsukuru tazaki and his years of pilgrimage
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami (December 2018)
It took me a few months to understand why I chose to reread this book. There was no problem with its likeability – as I did with all of my rereads, I zipped right through it. I also wrote down plenty of notes from my reading, in fact more so than usual for fiction. But I knew that I rarely choose my December rereading list based solely on fun and I struggled to identify a coherent narrative thread among those ideas I wrote down for later.
It was an unexpected moment of self-reflection that unlocked the key to this puzzle. I, much like the title character, once had a close group of five friends. And although the details are hardly comparable to the plot of this book, we too eventually found ourselves on separate paths and left our group in the past (1). This didn’t seem like a big deal until I looked over a note I took down from this book that I immediately agreed with – at a certain point, people stop believing in the possibilities of a group friendship.
Why was this the case? Again, there was no negative moment among us. We simply continued our lives, an approach that once brought us all together, but now the same strategy took us apart. It was just as we all understood and expected. And yet, here I am now with no belief in the idea of group friendship. I suspect the explanation here is that some aspect of this group breaking up was traumatic (a word I use carefully because I do not want to cheapen it) and my lack of faith is a protective response against reliving the experience again.
Once I viewed this book in the context of a protective response to trauma, I immediately understood the central idea. Unlike with my friend group, the five portrayed in the book did break apart after a traumatic event, and the way each person’s life changed in the aftermath was a protection against further pain. There is some value in such an initial response but as this book shows life living under a shell can hardly move forward. When the right moment comes around, we have to muster up all our courage and expose ourselves once more to the possibility of further loss.
One up: Throughout this book were various ideas about a range of topics. One comment was about the importance of strong eye contact while listening to someone speak (or shaking someone’s hand). This was a decent insight in that someone who does not make good eye contact in these situations might lack certain leadership qualities but I hardly believe this is the most important among the many characteristics required of great leaders.
One down: In another section, a character points out that a business should spare no expense on image. Again, it’s a lot like the prior thought – there is probably a minimum expenditure required but at some point spending on image becomes a way to prop up a shortcoming in how the daily operation is not leading to a desired public perception.
Just saying: Daily routines seem to come up fairly often these days on TOA and this book was no exception. This books notes that a daily routine can often be a very effective way to cling to life, especially for those left in shock by complete rejection. I believe there is more value in a routine than just this survival perspective but I do think this is an important reminder for anyone regrouping after a difficult moment.
Footnotes
1. No rush…
I wrote very indirectly about this in one of the better-received posts in recent TOA history.
It took me a few months to understand why I chose to reread this book. There was no problem with its likeability – as I did with all of my rereads, I zipped right through it. I also wrote down plenty of notes from my reading, in fact more so than usual for fiction. But I knew that I rarely choose my December rereading list based solely on fun and I struggled to identify a coherent narrative thread among those ideas I wrote down for later.
It was an unexpected moment of self-reflection that unlocked the key to this puzzle. I, much like the title character, once had a close group of five friends. And although the details are hardly comparable to the plot of this book, we too eventually found ourselves on separate paths and left our group in the past (1). This didn’t seem like a big deal until I looked over a note I took down from this book that I immediately agreed with – at a certain point, people stop believing in the possibilities of a group friendship.
Why was this the case? Again, there was no negative moment among us. We simply continued our lives, an approach that once brought us all together, but now the same strategy took us apart. It was just as we all understood and expected. And yet, here I am now with no belief in the idea of group friendship. I suspect the explanation here is that some aspect of this group breaking up was traumatic (a word I use carefully because I do not want to cheapen it) and my lack of faith is a protective response against reliving the experience again.
Once I viewed this book in the context of a protective response to trauma, I immediately understood the central idea. Unlike with my friend group, the five portrayed in the book did break apart after a traumatic event, and the way each person’s life changed in the aftermath was a protection against further pain. There is some value in such an initial response but as this book shows life living under a shell can hardly move forward. When the right moment comes around, we have to muster up all our courage and expose ourselves once more to the possibility of further loss.
One up: Throughout this book were various ideas about a range of topics. One comment was about the importance of strong eye contact while listening to someone speak (or shaking someone’s hand). This was a decent insight in that someone who does not make good eye contact in these situations might lack certain leadership qualities but I hardly believe this is the most important among the many characteristics required of great leaders.
One down: In another section, a character points out that a business should spare no expense on image. Again, it’s a lot like the prior thought – there is probably a minimum expenditure required but at some point spending on image becomes a way to prop up a shortcoming in how the daily operation is not leading to a desired public perception.
Just saying: Daily routines seem to come up fairly often these days on TOA and this book was no exception. This books notes that a daily routine can often be a very effective way to cling to life, especially for those left in shock by complete rejection. I believe there is more value in a routine than just this survival perspective but I do think this is an important reminder for anyone regrouping after a difficult moment.
Footnotes
1. No rush…
I wrote very indirectly about this in one of the better-received posts in recent TOA history.
Monday, August 12, 2019
rereading review - lean in (feedback)
Today, I thought I would explore one additional concept from Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In. She mentions in one section that leadership, a skill once defined by a list of specific traits, is slowly being reconsidered as an expression of authentic and honest individuality. I thought about this insight and realized that if this is indeed the critical building block for great leadership, then the most important skill a leader must cultivate is the ability to encourage, accept, and respond to feedback. Otherwise, a leader will remain stuck in an inauthentic environment where people are reluctant to honestly express themselves and this in turn will limit the leader’s ability to live up to Sandberg’s ideal of authentic and honest individuality.
A good start for any leader is to tailor the communication style to the individual. There is no way to know the best approach without getting to know the individual so leaders must remember to always make time to check in with others on a personal level before moving on to the task at hand. Over time, these small moments of shared emotions and experiences will build the working relationship and help leaders understand the best way to relate to others.
Of course, even the strongest working relationship will face challenges. It’s vital to remember in these moments that any conversation has at least two versions of the truth. The goal of the tailored approach is to work within this inevitable contradiction by remaining open to a flexible perspective. Using ‘I’ at the start of any opinion and making sure not to bury the most important aspect of a perspective with too many references to other ideas more easily enables this approach.
An open exchange should always see both parties consistently asking themselves and each other how they can help their counterpart achieve certain goals or objectives. This is the basic essence of regular two-way feedback. However, feedback should never be taken for granted and a good leader remembers to ask directly whenever feedback is especially important. A good sign that the relationship is faltering is a realization that someone kept a thought or comment to themselves. In these moments, a leader must resist the temptation to point fingers and instead look in the mirror because it’s obvious in such a situation that self-perception does not match reality in terms of an openness to receiving feedback. Leaders who can grow in the aftermath of this recognition will focus on rebuilding relationships, embrace the challenge of working within contradicting versions of reality, and directly ask for feedback about the most important things.
A good start for any leader is to tailor the communication style to the individual. There is no way to know the best approach without getting to know the individual so leaders must remember to always make time to check in with others on a personal level before moving on to the task at hand. Over time, these small moments of shared emotions and experiences will build the working relationship and help leaders understand the best way to relate to others.
Of course, even the strongest working relationship will face challenges. It’s vital to remember in these moments that any conversation has at least two versions of the truth. The goal of the tailored approach is to work within this inevitable contradiction by remaining open to a flexible perspective. Using ‘I’ at the start of any opinion and making sure not to bury the most important aspect of a perspective with too many references to other ideas more easily enables this approach.
An open exchange should always see both parties consistently asking themselves and each other how they can help their counterpart achieve certain goals or objectives. This is the basic essence of regular two-way feedback. However, feedback should never be taken for granted and a good leader remembers to ask directly whenever feedback is especially important. A good sign that the relationship is faltering is a realization that someone kept a thought or comment to themselves. In these moments, a leader must resist the temptation to point fingers and instead look in the mirror because it’s obvious in such a situation that self-perception does not match reality in terms of an openness to receiving feedback. Leaders who can grow in the aftermath of this recognition will focus on rebuilding relationships, embrace the challenge of working within contradicting versions of reality, and directly ask for feedback about the most important things.
Sunday, August 11, 2019
reading review - gridiron genius (riff offs on helmet football concepts)
For today’s final post about Michael Lombardi’s Gridiron Genius, I thought I would look at some specific insights into the game of helmet football. I’ll try to generalize my responses so that all readers can relate to these ideas but I must acknowledge that a passing familiarity with the sport is helpful.
The triangle is the key shape of the West Coast offense. Instead of looking at one receiver, a quarterback looks to spots on a field where routes intersect to create triangles. From there, the quarterback can see how the space is being defended, then make a decision about where to throw the football.
I imagine most observers think a quarterback looks at his receivers one at a time and throws the ball as soon as he spots an open player. I don’t reject this idea but I think Lombardi’s point stresses that looking at players comes after looking at space. This thought also explains why quarterbacks sometimes throw the ball right to a defender – the right question isn’t why the quarterback didn’t see the defender, the right question is how the defender knew to stand where the quarterback would never look.
Lombardi uses 7.5 yards per attempt as a rough cutoff for whether a quarterback can drive the ball downfield without sacrificing accuracy. He also examines how this metric changes by game situation – quarterbacks should increase this number when the team is trailing in the game. Ideally, the number should go up (or at least remain the same) when the level of competition increases.
A good indicator of a person’s comfort level with statistics is whether he or she can break an aggregate metric down into relevant components. Lombardi demonstrates the skill here by pointing out that the yards per attempt metric is relevant in many ways except for one – the simple aggregate.
Defenders assigned to cover an area vacated by a blitz will often cheat to that space, tipping off the blitz and creating a hole in coverage.
NBC briefly experimented with showing games using a camera from directly behind the quarterback. I thought this was a great change and it briefly reignited my excitement for closely watching games. The most interesting consequence of the camera angle was how it showed the strategy of the game prior to the start of each play. Basically, the point of the sequence was for the defense to hide its intentions while the offense had forty seconds to figure it out. The slight movement (or even body position) of defenders could often make the difference between an offense knowing what to expect and being completely blindsided by the defensive action.
A good base defense is flexible enough to make tactical adjustments on a play-by-play basis to nullify an offense’s tendencies and take advantage of good matchups.
By nature, offense is a question of execution while defense is a matter of reaction. One way a defense can control a game is by taking an offense away from its plan. This means the offense has a harder time executing and becomes more likely to make mistakes.
Another way a good defense forces the opponent to make mistakes is by allowing the offense to run plays that do not feature their best players. This is similar in that lesser players often do not have the same experience executing the plan as do the most regularly featured players. Just like a commuter can get lost when traveling on a new route, an offense forced to try new things during a game loses the benefit of planning and turns the advantage over to the reactionary defense.
The numbers suggest that third down defense isn’t as important as preventing big chunk plays. Teams convert third downs around 35% of the time and this isn’t sustainable on a long drive where there might be four or five third downs. However, a team that gains twenty-five yards in one play moves much closer to scoring range while reducing the number of third downs per drive.
This is another good use of math to get a better understanding of what makes a successful football team. As I noted above, studying components often brings greater clarity to a composite statistic. The relevant component here is that not all third downs are created equal – teams might convert a short third down at a far greater rate than 35%. Therefore, I would add that chunk plays are important for offenses that cannot consistently gain seven or eight yards on the first two downs of any sequence.
Teams should defend plays differently based on the play’s importance in the game. A third down in the red zone, for example, is often the difference between three and seven points. A third down at midfield is much less important.
NFL statistics often measure performance by treating every yard with the same weight and tallying the total number of yards gained or conceded. However, given that the value of the next yard can change depending on a number of factors in the game, perhaps a better measurement system would account for the value of the yards gained or conceded by players or teams.
Rare ability should not be overlooked and coaches must constantly evaluate in order to determine whether poor coaching or mismatched schemes caused a player’s talent to disappear in a particular environment.
This was the team building thought that probably doesn’t translate very well outside of sports because most organizations cannot determine how much a candidate contributed to another organization. The broader idea that should not be overlooked is that environment plays a major role in performance.
Two minutes seems like a lifetime…
An entire year of preparation – team building during training camp, a grueling regular season, an extended playoff run – can often come down to just a handful of key plays at the end of a vital game. Teams who can fearlessly face these moments and leverage their preparation to execute as a unit often win close games. It’s like the student who aces the final exam – it’s about being ready to answer any question that might come up because there is no way to know for sure just what is going to be on the test...
…what?
...OK, fine.
That’s not from Gridiron Genius, that’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Three Packs A Day’. She's Australian and probably doesn’t know much about helmet football. But who better to end a riff off?
Thanks for reading.
The triangle is the key shape of the West Coast offense. Instead of looking at one receiver, a quarterback looks to spots on a field where routes intersect to create triangles. From there, the quarterback can see how the space is being defended, then make a decision about where to throw the football.
I imagine most observers think a quarterback looks at his receivers one at a time and throws the ball as soon as he spots an open player. I don’t reject this idea but I think Lombardi’s point stresses that looking at players comes after looking at space. This thought also explains why quarterbacks sometimes throw the ball right to a defender – the right question isn’t why the quarterback didn’t see the defender, the right question is how the defender knew to stand where the quarterback would never look.
Lombardi uses 7.5 yards per attempt as a rough cutoff for whether a quarterback can drive the ball downfield without sacrificing accuracy. He also examines how this metric changes by game situation – quarterbacks should increase this number when the team is trailing in the game. Ideally, the number should go up (or at least remain the same) when the level of competition increases.
A good indicator of a person’s comfort level with statistics is whether he or she can break an aggregate metric down into relevant components. Lombardi demonstrates the skill here by pointing out that the yards per attempt metric is relevant in many ways except for one – the simple aggregate.
Defenders assigned to cover an area vacated by a blitz will often cheat to that space, tipping off the blitz and creating a hole in coverage.
NBC briefly experimented with showing games using a camera from directly behind the quarterback. I thought this was a great change and it briefly reignited my excitement for closely watching games. The most interesting consequence of the camera angle was how it showed the strategy of the game prior to the start of each play. Basically, the point of the sequence was for the defense to hide its intentions while the offense had forty seconds to figure it out. The slight movement (or even body position) of defenders could often make the difference between an offense knowing what to expect and being completely blindsided by the defensive action.
A good base defense is flexible enough to make tactical adjustments on a play-by-play basis to nullify an offense’s tendencies and take advantage of good matchups.
By nature, offense is a question of execution while defense is a matter of reaction. One way a defense can control a game is by taking an offense away from its plan. This means the offense has a harder time executing and becomes more likely to make mistakes.
Another way a good defense forces the opponent to make mistakes is by allowing the offense to run plays that do not feature their best players. This is similar in that lesser players often do not have the same experience executing the plan as do the most regularly featured players. Just like a commuter can get lost when traveling on a new route, an offense forced to try new things during a game loses the benefit of planning and turns the advantage over to the reactionary defense.
The numbers suggest that third down defense isn’t as important as preventing big chunk plays. Teams convert third downs around 35% of the time and this isn’t sustainable on a long drive where there might be four or five third downs. However, a team that gains twenty-five yards in one play moves much closer to scoring range while reducing the number of third downs per drive.
This is another good use of math to get a better understanding of what makes a successful football team. As I noted above, studying components often brings greater clarity to a composite statistic. The relevant component here is that not all third downs are created equal – teams might convert a short third down at a far greater rate than 35%. Therefore, I would add that chunk plays are important for offenses that cannot consistently gain seven or eight yards on the first two downs of any sequence.
Teams should defend plays differently based on the play’s importance in the game. A third down in the red zone, for example, is often the difference between three and seven points. A third down at midfield is much less important.
NFL statistics often measure performance by treating every yard with the same weight and tallying the total number of yards gained or conceded. However, given that the value of the next yard can change depending on a number of factors in the game, perhaps a better measurement system would account for the value of the yards gained or conceded by players or teams.
Rare ability should not be overlooked and coaches must constantly evaluate in order to determine whether poor coaching or mismatched schemes caused a player’s talent to disappear in a particular environment.
This was the team building thought that probably doesn’t translate very well outside of sports because most organizations cannot determine how much a candidate contributed to another organization. The broader idea that should not be overlooked is that environment plays a major role in performance.
Two minutes seems like a lifetime…
An entire year of preparation – team building during training camp, a grueling regular season, an extended playoff run – can often come down to just a handful of key plays at the end of a vital game. Teams who can fearlessly face these moments and leverage their preparation to execute as a unit often win close games. It’s like the student who aces the final exam – it’s about being ready to answer any question that might come up because there is no way to know for sure just what is going to be on the test...
…what?
...OK, fine.
That’s not from Gridiron Genius, that’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Three Packs A Day’. She's Australian and probably doesn’t know much about helmet football. But who better to end a riff off?
Thanks for reading.
Saturday, August 10, 2019
fortune cookie power ratings revisited
In this recent series, I evaluated all the fortunes I hoarded in my wallet over the years and determined whether I should keep or throw away each one. I intended the exercise as purely tongue-in-cheek and I’m sure that’s how it came off in each post. However, a nagging part of me hears the naysayers saying nay – sure, easy enough to ridicule a fortune, but if you’re so clever why not write a couple?
Well, reader, today I put my money where my General Gao’s chicken just was and respond to my imaginary critics. Below, I go through each fortune I highlighted and try to come up with an improved version.
Carry pieces of your childhood with you through life.
Actually, I like this one as it is currently written.
OK - starting for real... now!
The days you work are the best days.
Fulfilling work is the best use of the day.
Doubt is the beginning, not the end, of wisdom.
Wisdom is knowing when your experience is relevant.
There are many paths to the top of the mountain, but only one view.
The same path leads to many mountaintops.
A ship in the harbor is safe, but that’s not why ships are built.
A ship in the harbor is called a dock.
A true friend walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
A true friend wants the best for you.
Your ability to love will help a child in need.
Your ability to love will help anyone in need.
There’s no boosting a man up the ladder unless he’s willing to climb.
Boost a man up the ladder until he becomes willing to climb.
Perceived failure is oftentimes success trying to be born in a bigger way.
I actually don’t think this one is worth rewriting – there are a lot of ideas packed into the fortune and I don’t see a very productive way to distill those into a simpler message.
Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.
Hard work is the path away from sadness.
Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.
Don’t be a dumbass.
Pennies from heaven find their way to your doorstep this year!
Pennies are useless.
Do not spend the money you don’t have.
Fittingly, the final fortune is one that I like just the way it is written.
Well, reader, today I put my money where my General Gao’s chicken just was and respond to my imaginary critics. Below, I go through each fortune I highlighted and try to come up with an improved version.
Carry pieces of your childhood with you through life.
Actually, I like this one as it is currently written.
OK - starting for real... now!
The days you work are the best days.
Fulfilling work is the best use of the day.
Doubt is the beginning, not the end, of wisdom.
Wisdom is knowing when your experience is relevant.
There are many paths to the top of the mountain, but only one view.
The same path leads to many mountaintops.
A ship in the harbor is safe, but that’s not why ships are built.
A ship in the harbor is called a dock.
A true friend walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
A true friend wants the best for you.
Your ability to love will help a child in need.
Your ability to love will help anyone in need.
There’s no boosting a man up the ladder unless he’s willing to climb.
Boost a man up the ladder until he becomes willing to climb.
Perceived failure is oftentimes success trying to be born in a bigger way.
I actually don’t think this one is worth rewriting – there are a lot of ideas packed into the fortune and I don’t see a very productive way to distill those into a simpler message.
Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.
Hard work is the path away from sadness.
Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.
Don’t be a dumbass.
Pennies from heaven find their way to your doorstep this year!
Pennies are useless.
Do not spend the money you don’t have.
Fittingly, the final fortune is one that I like just the way it is written.
Friday, August 9, 2019
reading review - gridiron genius (confidence, commitment, and consistency)
I grouped many of Michael Lombardi’s leadership insights into a broad category defined by “C’s” – confidence, commitment, and consistency. These descriptors broadly capture the essence of long-term leadership – in order to be effective, a leader must set a vision for the team that can be reached with real effort over a defined period of time. To put it another way, the leader’s job is to expertly define everyone’s role. This is my favorite single idea from Gridiron Genius because it’s hard to envision a team doing poorly if everyone understood their expertly defined job description.
Once the vision is set, the leader can examine the process in closer detail and look for improvements. One way is to increase simplicity because simplicity enables repetition and repetition improves performance. A leader can also look for ways to push the tempo so that the team is steadily accomplishing more and more in a fixed period of time. Again, simplification goes a long way. The leader can increase tempo by filtering out irrelevant information and establishing clear communication standards. A final thought to this point is that although change is commonly described as healthy for any team, a leader must recognize that people are generally more comfortable with adaptation. Therefore, a strong leader must know when to let things be, especially if a big change would result in a loss of simplicity in both the process and in each team member’s expertly defined job role.
A leader must always remember that his or her actions will be closely observed within the team. Personal accountability is critical, both professionally and personally, and leaders who ask the team to do more than they would do are on the surest path to losing support. Inconsistency is also a good way to lose credibility and a leader therefore must keep commitments whenever possible. A critical area for consistency is applying rules equally to everyone – exceptions tempt team members to take advantage of the rules for individual benefit and the cost is order within the team.
Lombardi notes that champions usually behave like champions long before they win anything. This thought explains his stance toward experience – although helpful in a vacuum, it’s more important to be well prepared than experienced because preparation beats experience every single time. A similar line of thinking applies to ego – although ego is harmful in a vacuum, success usually requires a healthy dose. A good ego demands constant improvement while a bad ego seeks praise. Prepared leaders who constantly seek improvement will succeed because their teams will recognize them as future champions and commit to the cause with full effort.
Leaders who take the opposite approach inevitably insult the intelligence of their teams and quickly lose the respect of those who hold leaders accountable for performance. I’ve seen this happen multiple times from my own experience – an unprepared leader demands praise and credit for the team’s accomplishments and ends up alienating the group. A confident leader should understand that by default the leader always gets some credit – therefore, it's vital to spread recognition for any of the team’s successes.
Once the vision is set, the leader can examine the process in closer detail and look for improvements. One way is to increase simplicity because simplicity enables repetition and repetition improves performance. A leader can also look for ways to push the tempo so that the team is steadily accomplishing more and more in a fixed period of time. Again, simplification goes a long way. The leader can increase tempo by filtering out irrelevant information and establishing clear communication standards. A final thought to this point is that although change is commonly described as healthy for any team, a leader must recognize that people are generally more comfortable with adaptation. Therefore, a strong leader must know when to let things be, especially if a big change would result in a loss of simplicity in both the process and in each team member’s expertly defined job role.
A leader must always remember that his or her actions will be closely observed within the team. Personal accountability is critical, both professionally and personally, and leaders who ask the team to do more than they would do are on the surest path to losing support. Inconsistency is also a good way to lose credibility and a leader therefore must keep commitments whenever possible. A critical area for consistency is applying rules equally to everyone – exceptions tempt team members to take advantage of the rules for individual benefit and the cost is order within the team.
Lombardi notes that champions usually behave like champions long before they win anything. This thought explains his stance toward experience – although helpful in a vacuum, it’s more important to be well prepared than experienced because preparation beats experience every single time. A similar line of thinking applies to ego – although ego is harmful in a vacuum, success usually requires a healthy dose. A good ego demands constant improvement while a bad ego seeks praise. Prepared leaders who constantly seek improvement will succeed because their teams will recognize them as future champions and commit to the cause with full effort.
Leaders who take the opposite approach inevitably insult the intelligence of their teams and quickly lose the respect of those who hold leaders accountable for performance. I’ve seen this happen multiple times from my own experience – an unprepared leader demands praise and credit for the team’s accomplishments and ends up alienating the group. A confident leader should understand that by default the leader always gets some credit – therefore, it's vital to spread recognition for any of the team’s successes.
Thursday, August 8, 2019
reading review - little panic (expressing hurt)
A small but significant aspect of Little Panic addresses how to best express hurt. It’s difficult enough to tell people who mean well that they have hurt you. The challenge grows because people have a tendency to self-center in the face of another’s pain. They might talk about their own pain or loss rather than acknowledge yours, for example, or perhaps they will start relating your emotions in ways that explain how you might feel about them instead of accepting that your emotions can be independent of how you feel about others.
Ultimately, the best approach in these kinds of situations is to be the person you needed when you were younger and explain your hurt in a way you would have liked someone else to have explained their hurt to you. I liked one way this book described such an approach. First, explain your positive intent, and then describe what happened that hurt you. The last step is to confirm understanding. This final step is vital because otherwise it’s impossible to extend the same level of trust again.
Ultimately, the best approach in these kinds of situations is to be the person you needed when you were younger and explain your hurt in a way you would have liked someone else to have explained their hurt to you. I liked one way this book described such an approach. First, explain your positive intent, and then describe what happened that hurt you. The last step is to confirm understanding. This final step is vital because otherwise it’s impossible to extend the same level of trust again.
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
rereading review – lean in
Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg (December 2018)
When I first read Lean In, I never imagined that the ensuing years would see Sheryl Sandberg’s career pull her away from the path she seemed to be on in this book. As it stands now, my perception is that most associate her with Facebook’s recent (and very public) struggles, particularly as it relates to the company’s role in the polarizing aspects of social media and internet culture. However, this book remains a vital work within a larger genre of management reading and I would recommend it to anyone who hasn’t given workplace gender equality enough thought.
One of the first lessons I learned from attempting to apply an idea from Lean In was about the word ‘bossy’. Sandberg notes that men are rarely described with this word and its use reinforces a stereotype that women are not expected to become leaders. I considered banning the word in my team and took a few informal straw polls. What I quickly realized was that banning 'bossy' would be seen as my unnecessarily pointing fingers at people who simply didn’t know better. If the word did reinforce a negative stereotype, it was essentially happening by accident as people simply spoke using the vocabulary available to them. I settled for simply speaking to team members in private if I thought their language was reinforcing a discouraging stereotype and used the conversation as an opportunity to teach as needed. Most importantly, I would sometimes have these conversations outside the office if I thought it was more appropriate for a given situation. What I learned from the experience was that many of the problems experienced within the workplace are not born in the office – rather, they are manifestations of problems rooted in the larger societies that support these organizations. The challenge of overcoming such obstacles means measured, consistent, and incremental effort while both on and off the job.
My only criticism of the book after this reread is its tendency to speak of factors relevant to tech companies as if they applied to organizations of all kinds. Sandberg notes, for example, that fast growth matters in a new job, but it would be ridiculous for me to relay that insight to my friends who teach middle school science. Of course, I hardly fault Sandberg for writing about what she knows from her experiences but I disagree with the idea that a tech company is a good representation of what it’s like to have a job. Tech companies compete quickly, publicly, and ruthlessly – this might make for more interesting storytelling but hardly guarantees that its writing contains more insight into management than writing about a less public field.
One up: I liked the idea that overcorrection is the best way to change a natural tendency. Business culture has established a number of such tendencies that have lost their original value and applying the overcorrection concept could lead to good results. One immediately applicable example comes from group meetings – these settings encourage interruptions and it’s easy for the group to simply move from one point to the next as the newest speaker sees fit. People can counter this tendency by stopping the conversation and pointing back to someone who had been cut off, perhaps by saying ‘before we move on, I would like to hear what ___ was going to say.’ Leaders can also change their approach in group settings to call on reluctant speakers instead of always leaving the floor open for volunteers.
One down: Data, data, data – everyone is obsessed with data these days and many organization require evidence in the form of a dataset before moving forward with any major decision. Unfortunately, this means lazily gathered data can be used to perpetuate myths and reinforce stereotypes. One note from Lean In suggests that since men have historically been more likely to remain in the workforce, institutions tend to invest more in men. There might be data to support this allocation of resources but such evidence would hardly explain why bringing parity to investment levels wouldn’t change the results of future datasets regarding employees remaining in the workforce.
Just saying: A big obstacle to applying the ideas from Lean In is a natural preference most of us have for fitting in. The workplace is no exception – I’ve yet to meet a new employee whose stated goal on Day One is to stick out like a sore thumb. However, this mentality places undue pressure on members of underrepresented groups and the resultant discomfort of feeling out of place can have real consequences. Organizations must find ways to combat this tendency so that they can bring the best out of anyone they identify as a good fit for the team.
When I first read Lean In, I never imagined that the ensuing years would see Sheryl Sandberg’s career pull her away from the path she seemed to be on in this book. As it stands now, my perception is that most associate her with Facebook’s recent (and very public) struggles, particularly as it relates to the company’s role in the polarizing aspects of social media and internet culture. However, this book remains a vital work within a larger genre of management reading and I would recommend it to anyone who hasn’t given workplace gender equality enough thought.
One of the first lessons I learned from attempting to apply an idea from Lean In was about the word ‘bossy’. Sandberg notes that men are rarely described with this word and its use reinforces a stereotype that women are not expected to become leaders. I considered banning the word in my team and took a few informal straw polls. What I quickly realized was that banning 'bossy' would be seen as my unnecessarily pointing fingers at people who simply didn’t know better. If the word did reinforce a negative stereotype, it was essentially happening by accident as people simply spoke using the vocabulary available to them. I settled for simply speaking to team members in private if I thought their language was reinforcing a discouraging stereotype and used the conversation as an opportunity to teach as needed. Most importantly, I would sometimes have these conversations outside the office if I thought it was more appropriate for a given situation. What I learned from the experience was that many of the problems experienced within the workplace are not born in the office – rather, they are manifestations of problems rooted in the larger societies that support these organizations. The challenge of overcoming such obstacles means measured, consistent, and incremental effort while both on and off the job.
My only criticism of the book after this reread is its tendency to speak of factors relevant to tech companies as if they applied to organizations of all kinds. Sandberg notes, for example, that fast growth matters in a new job, but it would be ridiculous for me to relay that insight to my friends who teach middle school science. Of course, I hardly fault Sandberg for writing about what she knows from her experiences but I disagree with the idea that a tech company is a good representation of what it’s like to have a job. Tech companies compete quickly, publicly, and ruthlessly – this might make for more interesting storytelling but hardly guarantees that its writing contains more insight into management than writing about a less public field.
One up: I liked the idea that overcorrection is the best way to change a natural tendency. Business culture has established a number of such tendencies that have lost their original value and applying the overcorrection concept could lead to good results. One immediately applicable example comes from group meetings – these settings encourage interruptions and it’s easy for the group to simply move from one point to the next as the newest speaker sees fit. People can counter this tendency by stopping the conversation and pointing back to someone who had been cut off, perhaps by saying ‘before we move on, I would like to hear what ___ was going to say.’ Leaders can also change their approach in group settings to call on reluctant speakers instead of always leaving the floor open for volunteers.
One down: Data, data, data – everyone is obsessed with data these days and many organization require evidence in the form of a dataset before moving forward with any major decision. Unfortunately, this means lazily gathered data can be used to perpetuate myths and reinforce stereotypes. One note from Lean In suggests that since men have historically been more likely to remain in the workforce, institutions tend to invest more in men. There might be data to support this allocation of resources but such evidence would hardly explain why bringing parity to investment levels wouldn’t change the results of future datasets regarding employees remaining in the workforce.
Just saying: A big obstacle to applying the ideas from Lean In is a natural preference most of us have for fitting in. The workplace is no exception – I’ve yet to meet a new employee whose stated goal on Day One is to stick out like a sore thumb. However, this mentality places undue pressure on members of underrepresented groups and the resultant discomfort of feeling out of place can have real consequences. Organizations must find ways to combat this tendency so that they can bring the best out of anyone they identify as a good fit for the team.
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
reading review - little panic (testing)
I thought Amanda Stern did a masterful job of conveying how testing can be a significant source of anxiety. Little Panic is filled with many examples from her life describing how these tests can be especially damaging for those who equate performance with acceptability. Tests also pose a massive challenge for those who fear falling short of expectations. One behavior sometimes seen among the most anxious of these test-takers is intellectual self-sabotage – the underlying thinking here is that others will eventually expect less of them on a given test.
The big problem with evaluation in general and most types of testing in particular is that they focus on what someone doesn’t know rather than considering what someone can do. A variant of the same problem is that most tests measure recall and application of retained information within a defined time period at the expense of all forms of ingenuity. After all, how can a test measure something from outside the test? Accepted testing methods leave slow, careful, or creative people anxious about how they are being assessed and each test reinforces a deepening cycle of self-doubt. If the authority figures test only to measure someone’s inadequacies, then each additional assessment is further suggestion to those crippled by insecurity that eventually their inadequacies will be uncovered through testing.
The perspective I can understand as I look back on my own years of schooling and testing is how most large-scale systems are designed to serve the average person. In the context of education, this average student learns just enough from books, lectures, and assignments to comfortably graduate after some number of years. This method leaves little room for the student who learns through experience or feeling. The system is sure to leave capable but inexperienced students questioning their own value within the grip of a testing process that was never designed for their success.
One up: There were a set of test questions in Little Panic that I thought demonstrated the challenge tests pose for certain types of people. The following examples are taken from this set, a variety of “what’s wrong with this picture?” questions. In parentheses, I’ve included Amanda’s answer for each scenario.
-A bald man is combing his hair. (He’s using a comb but he has no hair.)
-A girl’s hair is blowing to the left while the leaves on the tree she is standing next to blow to the right. (Not wearing a warm enough jacket and she shouldn’t be out alone without a grown-up.)
-A man walking alongside a dog is leaving footprints but the dog isn’t. (The dog should be on a leash.)
-A stroller with three wheels instead of four. (There’s no baby, and also no mom.)
I can imagine that no more than one of those four answers would be considered ‘correct’. And yet, what is wrong with any of the answers?
One down: I thought deeply about the observation regarding people who believe in the chance of impossible solutions. Little Panic points out that these people might make less effort in certain situations because their belief disconnects personal effort from the eventual resolution. I concluded that this spoke to many frustrations I’ve experienced over the years when enlisting certain types of people to help me solve problems.
Just saying: I liked the idea that when a student struggles to learn, instead of assuming a learning disability there should be greater consideration given to the possibility that the teacher is ‘teaching disabled’.
The big problem with evaluation in general and most types of testing in particular is that they focus on what someone doesn’t know rather than considering what someone can do. A variant of the same problem is that most tests measure recall and application of retained information within a defined time period at the expense of all forms of ingenuity. After all, how can a test measure something from outside the test? Accepted testing methods leave slow, careful, or creative people anxious about how they are being assessed and each test reinforces a deepening cycle of self-doubt. If the authority figures test only to measure someone’s inadequacies, then each additional assessment is further suggestion to those crippled by insecurity that eventually their inadequacies will be uncovered through testing.
The perspective I can understand as I look back on my own years of schooling and testing is how most large-scale systems are designed to serve the average person. In the context of education, this average student learns just enough from books, lectures, and assignments to comfortably graduate after some number of years. This method leaves little room for the student who learns through experience or feeling. The system is sure to leave capable but inexperienced students questioning their own value within the grip of a testing process that was never designed for their success.
One up: There were a set of test questions in Little Panic that I thought demonstrated the challenge tests pose for certain types of people. The following examples are taken from this set, a variety of “what’s wrong with this picture?” questions. In parentheses, I’ve included Amanda’s answer for each scenario.
-A bald man is combing his hair. (He’s using a comb but he has no hair.)
-A girl’s hair is blowing to the left while the leaves on the tree she is standing next to blow to the right. (Not wearing a warm enough jacket and she shouldn’t be out alone without a grown-up.)
-A man walking alongside a dog is leaving footprints but the dog isn’t. (The dog should be on a leash.)
-A stroller with three wheels instead of four. (There’s no baby, and also no mom.)
I can imagine that no more than one of those four answers would be considered ‘correct’. And yet, what is wrong with any of the answers?
One down: I thought deeply about the observation regarding people who believe in the chance of impossible solutions. Little Panic points out that these people might make less effort in certain situations because their belief disconnects personal effort from the eventual resolution. I concluded that this spoke to many frustrations I’ve experienced over the years when enlisting certain types of people to help me solve problems.
Just saying: I liked the idea that when a student struggles to learn, instead of assuming a learning disability there should be greater consideration given to the possibility that the teacher is ‘teaching disabled’.
Monday, August 5, 2019
reading review - gridiron genius (teaching, training, and coaching)
I thought some of Michael Lombardi’s most important insights in Gridiron Genius were about a leader’s responsibility to teach, train, and coach within an organization. He makes his point about the importance of this function with a thought from Herb Brooks, coach of 1980 US Olympic hockey team – in essence, Brooks felt that teams of open-minded and coachable individuals could overcome any gap between them and their competitors.
I agree with Lombardi that at the core any strong leader must be a teacher and a communicator. But what forms the foundation for such a person? I think one obvious answer is a lifetime of learning and sharing. A student who voraciously consumes knowledge and consistently passes information along to others is well prepared to leverage the critical teaching and communication skills required of strong leaders.
Lombardi demonstrates one way a great leader applied this emphasis on learning and sharing by providing a brief example about Bill Belichick’s off-season planning sessions. During these sessions, Belichick would review how his coaching staff should tweak and adjust their teaching methods in the upcoming season. The process undoubtedly meant a combination of considering new teaching methods while also discarding old or outdated techniques. This example demonstrates that simply acquiring and sharing new information isn’t enough – a leader must also know how to discourage bad habits in the team.
The above example highlights an underrated aspect of growth, improvement, and innovation – the importance of discarding what isn’t working. I suspect most teams stagnate or regress not for a lack of good ideas but rather due to a stubborn resistance about abandoning existing processes, norms, or systems. It's impossible for me to say, of course, but I suspect from experience that I’ve gained a lot more from abandoning a bad idea than I ever did from applying a new concept.
Perhaps the most challenging part of the leader’s role is to determine the differences in how each person in a team retains information. As Lombardi points out, some players learn the playbook through film study while others absorb the information by practicing the movements on the field. A leader can also leverage knowledge about a learning style to tailor his or her teaching efforts – for example, if a given team member is particularly detail oriented, the teaching focus should be on the macro-level philosophies or concepts because the team member is very likely to figure out the detailed portions without outside help.
Finally, Lombardi mentions the importance of communication for preparing a team to perform in dynamic environments. Although the very nature of dynamism suggests that unexpected problems or challenges come up all the time, Lombardi notes that the key is to ensure the communication level is high enough so that everyone continues to understand their assigned job. His simple suggestion echoes one of my favorite lessons from Atul Gawande’s Checklist Manifesto – make sure each team member knows everyone else’s name.
I agree with Lombardi that at the core any strong leader must be a teacher and a communicator. But what forms the foundation for such a person? I think one obvious answer is a lifetime of learning and sharing. A student who voraciously consumes knowledge and consistently passes information along to others is well prepared to leverage the critical teaching and communication skills required of strong leaders.
Lombardi demonstrates one way a great leader applied this emphasis on learning and sharing by providing a brief example about Bill Belichick’s off-season planning sessions. During these sessions, Belichick would review how his coaching staff should tweak and adjust their teaching methods in the upcoming season. The process undoubtedly meant a combination of considering new teaching methods while also discarding old or outdated techniques. This example demonstrates that simply acquiring and sharing new information isn’t enough – a leader must also know how to discourage bad habits in the team.
The above example highlights an underrated aspect of growth, improvement, and innovation – the importance of discarding what isn’t working. I suspect most teams stagnate or regress not for a lack of good ideas but rather due to a stubborn resistance about abandoning existing processes, norms, or systems. It's impossible for me to say, of course, but I suspect from experience that I’ve gained a lot more from abandoning a bad idea than I ever did from applying a new concept.
Perhaps the most challenging part of the leader’s role is to determine the differences in how each person in a team retains information. As Lombardi points out, some players learn the playbook through film study while others absorb the information by practicing the movements on the field. A leader can also leverage knowledge about a learning style to tailor his or her teaching efforts – for example, if a given team member is particularly detail oriented, the teaching focus should be on the macro-level philosophies or concepts because the team member is very likely to figure out the detailed portions without outside help.
Finally, Lombardi mentions the importance of communication for preparing a team to perform in dynamic environments. Although the very nature of dynamism suggests that unexpected problems or challenges come up all the time, Lombardi notes that the key is to ensure the communication level is high enough so that everyone continues to understand their assigned job. His simple suggestion echoes one of my favorite lessons from Atul Gawande’s Checklist Manifesto – make sure each team member knows everyone else’s name.
Sunday, August 4, 2019
rereading review - pachinko (riff off)
Pachinko is the final book I reread last December. As longtime TOA readers are well aware, I’ve written plenty about this book in the past. It should therefore come as no surprise that I found very little to write about this time.
When there’s no obvious thing to write about, I say the thing to write is obvious – riff off.
A God who the people fully agreed with and who always did what was considered right would be a puppet, not a God.
I first decided to read Pachinko when I went to hear Lee speak at an author reading in Harvard Square. Hearing the author discuss her book before I’d actually read it gave me an interesting perspective on what to look for as I worked my way through Pachinko for the first time. I found for the most part that reading the book clarified much about her comments.
The one comment I did not see reflected in the book was about Christianity. Specifically, I recall Lee mentioning that she thought it was impossible to write a book about recent Korean history without including Christianity. The religion is certainly an important feature of the book in the sense that almost all the main characters practice the faith. However, for me the religion’s relevance in Pachinko was unclear given that the characters didn’t explore and challenge their faith in the same way they did so of a number of other vital forces, traditions, and institutions in their lives.
This thought I’ve highlighted illustrates my point. What are the implications of this thought? If people fully agree with a person in this way, is that person also a puppet? Are the characters who do wrong supposed to represent God-like figures in a certain respect? This is why I think although I understand what Lee was saying, I feel Pachinko, whether by design or not, left much unexplored about religion’s role for this particular set of characters.
What those who have not suffered say to those who have suffered can sound glib or foolish.
Foolish, for sure, but I don’t think glib works as well (unless the speaker is being intentionally malicious).
In a poor community, anyone perceived to have extra becomes a target.
I’ve referenced a similar thought from Katherine Boo’s Beyond The Beautiful Forevers a number of times on TOA – poverty means poor people competing to take from other poor people.
Parents should tell their children when they’ve done something well.
If you continue nodding, people will keep talking.
Though hardly definitive, I think the above represent some good ideas to keep in mind. I would expand the first thought to simply ‘people should acknowledge when someone does something well’ and I’ll add that nodding along forms only a small part of encouraging someone to keep talking.
People who start to believe too much in their own ideas risk losing track of their own interests.
It is OK to lie about ideals in order to stay alive, especially if others are dependent.
I read recently that even the most principled people eventually choose their lifestyles ahead of their ideals. I think this statement is broadly true from the perspective that principles mean the ideas or guidelines for translating philosophical thought into concrete action. However, those who include their family or group obligations atop their list of principles would see no relevance in the above ideas.
A business benefits more from steady customers who make small purchases than it does from the occasional customers who make outsize purchases.
Great businessmen often mistake themselves for great citizens. The poorer a country is, the more impossible it is for both of these things to be true.
Business played an underrated role in Pachinko as the characters turned time and again to entrepreneurship as a way to escape from their poverty, oppressions, or social standing. And yet, despite its importance in the plot, Pachinko’s view of business beyond a certain local scale is always suspicious, a point reinforced constantly in the way excess profits are used to take advantage of those who have next to nothing.
A dispute ends when both sides turn their attention to building a friendship.
It’s good to have conversation topics that can be visited without subtext or aggression.
There is a certain school of thought in the world of conflict resolution that demands a laser-focus on the points of contention. This approach, I feel, invites a transactional view to conflict resolution. But if both sides are unwilling to make concessions and accept exchanges, the only way forward is to build the relationship until the aggrieved parties can sit alongside rather than across from each other at the negotiating table.
Equally important is to know how to stabilize a relationship during a time of conflict. There is magic in simple conversation but it remains inaccessible if topics of conversation unearth buried resentments or inflame dormant embers.
The easy thing to do when life gets difficult is to leave.
This is, as I like to say, true until it isn’t.
It’s a special thing to touch someone when they are sick.
This might not necessarily be something I learned through hospice work but it is definitely something I remember because of it.
Those who are never their best selves can easily see the worst in other people.
The most interesting consequence of discovering your best is cultivating empathy for other people on the same journey. It’s hard to relate to those who remain oblivious of how their actions harm others and limit their own potential unless you’ve once been in that position yourself and understand that growing into someone better is a long and messy process.
The city looks pretty when you’ve been indoors.
I’m still learning a lot about life but one thing is pretty certain – life is tough. The easiest trap to fall into during a difficult time is to look through the window and see the other side with rose-tinted frames. The grass is, as they say, greener on the other side, but if that’s because your side has brown grass, then maybe it’s time to get to work on the lawn, you know?
Or… maybe it’s time to listen to ‘City Looks Pretty’ by Courtney Barnett, not one of my favorite tunes but certainly deserving a credit here for supplying my final thought.
Thanks for reading.
Tim
When there’s no obvious thing to write about, I say the thing to write is obvious – riff off.
A God who the people fully agreed with and who always did what was considered right would be a puppet, not a God.
I first decided to read Pachinko when I went to hear Lee speak at an author reading in Harvard Square. Hearing the author discuss her book before I’d actually read it gave me an interesting perspective on what to look for as I worked my way through Pachinko for the first time. I found for the most part that reading the book clarified much about her comments.
The one comment I did not see reflected in the book was about Christianity. Specifically, I recall Lee mentioning that she thought it was impossible to write a book about recent Korean history without including Christianity. The religion is certainly an important feature of the book in the sense that almost all the main characters practice the faith. However, for me the religion’s relevance in Pachinko was unclear given that the characters didn’t explore and challenge their faith in the same way they did so of a number of other vital forces, traditions, and institutions in their lives.
This thought I’ve highlighted illustrates my point. What are the implications of this thought? If people fully agree with a person in this way, is that person also a puppet? Are the characters who do wrong supposed to represent God-like figures in a certain respect? This is why I think although I understand what Lee was saying, I feel Pachinko, whether by design or not, left much unexplored about religion’s role for this particular set of characters.
What those who have not suffered say to those who have suffered can sound glib or foolish.
Foolish, for sure, but I don’t think glib works as well (unless the speaker is being intentionally malicious).
In a poor community, anyone perceived to have extra becomes a target.
I’ve referenced a similar thought from Katherine Boo’s Beyond The Beautiful Forevers a number of times on TOA – poverty means poor people competing to take from other poor people.
Parents should tell their children when they’ve done something well.
If you continue nodding, people will keep talking.
Though hardly definitive, I think the above represent some good ideas to keep in mind. I would expand the first thought to simply ‘people should acknowledge when someone does something well’ and I’ll add that nodding along forms only a small part of encouraging someone to keep talking.
People who start to believe too much in their own ideas risk losing track of their own interests.
It is OK to lie about ideals in order to stay alive, especially if others are dependent.
I read recently that even the most principled people eventually choose their lifestyles ahead of their ideals. I think this statement is broadly true from the perspective that principles mean the ideas or guidelines for translating philosophical thought into concrete action. However, those who include their family or group obligations atop their list of principles would see no relevance in the above ideas.
A business benefits more from steady customers who make small purchases than it does from the occasional customers who make outsize purchases.
Great businessmen often mistake themselves for great citizens. The poorer a country is, the more impossible it is for both of these things to be true.
Business played an underrated role in Pachinko as the characters turned time and again to entrepreneurship as a way to escape from their poverty, oppressions, or social standing. And yet, despite its importance in the plot, Pachinko’s view of business beyond a certain local scale is always suspicious, a point reinforced constantly in the way excess profits are used to take advantage of those who have next to nothing.
A dispute ends when both sides turn their attention to building a friendship.
It’s good to have conversation topics that can be visited without subtext or aggression.
There is a certain school of thought in the world of conflict resolution that demands a laser-focus on the points of contention. This approach, I feel, invites a transactional view to conflict resolution. But if both sides are unwilling to make concessions and accept exchanges, the only way forward is to build the relationship until the aggrieved parties can sit alongside rather than across from each other at the negotiating table.
Equally important is to know how to stabilize a relationship during a time of conflict. There is magic in simple conversation but it remains inaccessible if topics of conversation unearth buried resentments or inflame dormant embers.
The easy thing to do when life gets difficult is to leave.
This is, as I like to say, true until it isn’t.
It’s a special thing to touch someone when they are sick.
This might not necessarily be something I learned through hospice work but it is definitely something I remember because of it.
Those who are never their best selves can easily see the worst in other people.
The most interesting consequence of discovering your best is cultivating empathy for other people on the same journey. It’s hard to relate to those who remain oblivious of how their actions harm others and limit their own potential unless you’ve once been in that position yourself and understand that growing into someone better is a long and messy process.
The city looks pretty when you’ve been indoors.
I’m still learning a lot about life but one thing is pretty certain – life is tough. The easiest trap to fall into during a difficult time is to look through the window and see the other side with rose-tinted frames. The grass is, as they say, greener on the other side, but if that’s because your side has brown grass, then maybe it’s time to get to work on the lawn, you know?
Or… maybe it’s time to listen to ‘City Looks Pretty’ by Courtney Barnett, not one of my favorite tunes but certainly deserving a credit here for supplying my final thought.
Thanks for reading.
Tim
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