How to become talented and passionate

Seth Godin’s latest blog post paints a depressing picture of architectural design and engineering, but lands on two questions to ask if you want to do well:

“Give me constraints” and “Measure my performance” are rarely heard, except when talented and passionate designers go to work.

I’d extend that note further to say this:

To become a talented and passionate designer, ask “Give me constraints” and “Measure my performance”.

When you’re a newbie to a profession, having an expert (i.e. your boss) outline your operational constraints teaches you where the challenge is. And asking for someone (i.e. your client) to measure your performance teaches you what elements of what you do are actually important.

And when you are getting continuous feedback, (at least) two things will happen:

  1. You’ll get better. You’ll become “talented”.

  2. You’ll stay (or become) passionate because you’ll see how your work matters.

Getting better at work that matters is a worthy goal. And asking two simple questions could help all of us get there.

When what is more powerful than why

Simon Sinek and Peter Senge nailed it when they articulated why knowing "why" is critical.

Except that while "why" is critical to know, it's not the question to ask. "What" is much better.

Michael Bungay Stainer pins this insight directly to the concept of effective coaching but I think it applies more generally.

Even if you want to know why, or want to clarify why, or want to find out the options for why, taking a closer/harder look at what is probably the best place to start.

Imagine how this works in your context. You might be in a meeting, having a quiet drink with a mate, in the midst of a high-level strategy discussion, or pondering life while walking through a park.

In that context, you could ask one of these questions:

Why am I doing this?

OR

What am I hoping to achieve?

Why are we talking about this?

OR

What is behind this issue?

Why are we in business?

OR

What are we good at?

Why is this a problem?

OR

What is the main challenge here for me?

It isn't that the what question is going to take you to a different place than the why version. It's that there's more wiggle room for not getting someone's back up because you didn't quite nail the tone of voice, and also you actually take the conversation forward.

Do try it.

*The concept and inspiration for this post is directly taken from The Coaching Habit book. You should get a copy. If you're specifically interested in the relative strength of asking what versus asking why, it's covered in the "Masterclass 4" section of the book.


Designing for now: Past, Present and Emergent

There are (at least) three essential elements that need to be woven together when designing something for right now:

  • The Past: What can we learn from recent history and traditional wisdom?

  • The Present: What are we doing right now that we can explain and understand?

  • The Emergent: What is on the horizon, on the fringes, on the periphery?

One or two these three is great, but not enough for real impact.

The emergent needs to be connected to what is happening in the present in order to move from the fringe to the mainstream. And understanding the past helps avoid repeating mistakes, and identify what seems new but is actually old, and locate where we are at and where we are going into the longer journey of communities and people.

Take a little time to share

A while ago, there was an opportunity (campaign/project, call it what you will) to get ideas from the people of Christchurch, where I live.

Quite simply, it was called Share an Idea.

Over six weeks, the project received over 100,000 ideas.

Now, I don’t know how equitable the process was, and don’t want to enter into a debate about how much it cost, or whether the ideas made a difference.

My point is this: Everyone has ideas to share. And if you don’t share them, we don’t hear them.

Your platform might be a blog. Or a podcast. Or a megaphone on a street corner. Or a conversation in a coffee shop. Or spray paint on the side of a wall. How you share it isn’t the point (although it might be important to you). It’s the sharing that matters.

Experts and expertise

Most of us aren’t experts. Not the way that the word is usually understood anyway.

But we all have expertise.

Or to put it another way: We’re all experts in our own experience.

Something awesome happens when we hold space for people to share their expertise, rather than download an opinion from a sole expert.

Here’s what it probably looks like:

  • Seats in circles, not rows.

  • Listening in silence, not filling space with talking.

  • Multiple voices, not didactic teaching.

  • Food. Always.

  • Feedback and reflection.

  • Naming connections and relationships, not differences and disconnection.

Psychology Friday

Here’s a few thoughts that have been rattling around my head this week.

  • Reality is experienced within our mind.

  • Our mind is shaped by what we pay attention to.

  • And this quote from a book called “Flow”, by someone I’ve seen best-described as the author with the most frequently misspelt name of all time, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi.

people who learn to control inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives, which is as close as any of us can come to being happy

Across a misty moor (a poem)

Across a misty moor
I ride,
my steed between my legs.

Breathing hard
muscles straining
miles left behind,
discarded.

Lights flashing,
gloves gripping
handlebars.

Not hooves this morning.

But a saddle nonetheless.

- Composed while crossing Hagley Park this morning on the way to work

100 articles project

I’ve been capturing my thoughts (almost) daily for over a year on here.

They’re snippets of ideas. Glimpses of projects. A whiff of something new.

So there’s lots of work to do.

Today’s glimpse of a project:

100 articles.

A possible extension of the daily blogging habit I’m practicing.

One idea per article. Or more specifically, one assertion.

I’m imagining 1500 words each. Or perhaps it might be better framed as three to five sections, of maximum 500 words in each section.

That would be between one- and two-thousands words each.

This is a multi-year project. Perhaps it’s really going to be a project for my 30s. Although hopefully I get faster (and better) as I progress.

At 10 articles per year, I’ll probably be done in 2028 (when I’m 40)

At one article per week, I’ll be done in two years.

Doable?

Decisions, undecisions, and indecisions

Decision making is an actual academic field. Tertiary institutions have entire departments dedicated to it.

Because it turns out, we’re not very good at making decisions. Part of the problem (I think) is that we think we’re good at it.

Here’s three steps I’ve found helpful when facing decisions.

  1. Clarify what the "decision is.

  2. Figure out what the opposite decision would be. This is the “Undecision.”

  3. Identify what will happen if you don’t make a decision. “Indecision”, is a decision.

Next time you’re faced with a decision, try spending five minutes working through these three steps.

Categories vs tags

Human beings love a good taxonomy. Categories, labels, and classifications make life easier for our brains.

Categories are good for many things, including finding things (a. la. the Dewey Decimal System, and the ‘top cutlery drawer further subcategorised with dividers separating knives, forks and spoons), and predicting how new things will behave (we expect a ball will roll down a hill, because its a ball and that’s what balls do).

The trouble is when we apply categories to humans. Attempting to predict the future behaviour of an individual based on the category we have assigned to them, will at best lead us to make errors, and at worst change how we behave towards them.

Tags are the opposite to categories. At least the way that I think about them.

I’m not talking about tags on social media, which are often categories.

For the sake of a simple example, think about a standard black and white football.

There are a few different categories we could apply her, the most obvious being “Sports equipment” and “ball”. But of course, these are only obvious to me, you might have different ones.

The point is that categories put the football into a larger container which we have set the entry criteria for.

Tags are different. They’re an internal property, not an external classification.

While categories describe a container we can put something in, tags describe something that is inherently present in the object.

For example, returning to our black and white football, we could tag it with “round”, “inflated”, “ball”, “leather”, “stitched” and perhaps a brand name or where it was made.

A football is a simple object, but it’s reasonably clear there’s a difference between the two approaches. Here’s a few reasons why I prefer to take a tag-based approach, and try to ditch categories as often as possible.

  • Tags tell us about the content, not the container.

  • Tags require us to look deeply, not assume we know what we’re looking at.

  • Tags help us to find connections, instead of applying stereotypes.

Thanks to Seth for this podcast on categories, and Christian for first highlighting the distinction between tags and categories to me on one of my current favourite websites.

The old 'about me'

I've been reflecting over the last few weeks about this blog, and I've decided to update my 'about me' blurb.

I started this website as a three-stranded experiment intended to push my personal development and learning.

The three strands were:

  • Create something online.

  • Commit to a daily discipline.

  • Develop my writing.

I wove these strands together around the idea of property. Or more generally, the way that property affects the way we live, and how (or why) it could (or should) change.

As a learning experiment, it's certainly succeeded. And I'd recommend a year of daily blogging to anyone and everyone.

One of the things I've learnt, is that its hard to iterate and develop ideas without a process of deliberate review and critique. And I don't have this review process built into my current flow of thinking/writing/work on property.

I could change this. But I've also learnt that why property is a common thread in much of my thinking, I often spend significant periods of time with my head in a completely different headspace. During these periods, writing a blog post connected back to property is pretty challenging. If I haven't worked through the thought process, I can't neccessarily see a real connection.

So I'm embracing this. I'm shifting away from a specific 'property' focus to zoom out to the overarching theme of 'how we live'. I expect that many posts will tie back to property. After all, we all live somewhere, so place is important. But often, you're likely to be subject to a mid-process rant about whatever is occupying my mindspace.

I hope you find some value in what I share here, even if it is just as an observer of my journey. 

For posterity, here's where we began together: My old 'about me'

Welcome to my little corner of the internet.

We all live somewhere. 

Our approach to houses/homes/property ownership doesn't seem to 'work' for everyone. At least in the community where I live, and the way I think property should work.

You might be specifically concerned about the affordability or energy efficiency of our current housing. Or you might care more about build quality and increasing urban density. Or perhaps the biggest issue for you is ensuring stability of accommodation or giving people a sense of identity, pride and connection with the land through ownership.

I don't have any solutions, but I do have some ideas.

Many of them are borrowed from people who are more knowledgable, more experienced and more skilled than I. But I'm a trained engineer, not writer. I'm a dreamer, not a communicator. I'm looking for action, and I'm exploring what that could look like for me, where I live.

This blog is a record of my process, you're welcome to follow along.

Language is important for communication

Language is important for communication.

That sounds like a self-evident statement that isn't worth saying, but if you dig deeper into what language is, and how it works, and the implications of unclear language, the importance of the sentiment only increases.

For example, it blew my mind when I thought about this:

Language connects our brains.

When you read this blog post and voice the words 'out loud' in your internal head-voice, your brain is following the exact same process that mine did when I wrote this. Reading a book is actually reading the authors mind!

But here's the tricky bit: words mean different things to you and me.

They elicit different emotions.

They connect with different things.

So when you read the phrase "Language connects our brains" your understanding is different to mine because the concepts of "language", "connection" and "brain" are different to my concepts.

Stating that communication is important is probably another self-evident statement that perhaps doesn't need to be outlined. But here's an intersection between communication and language that seems to continually trip us up: Expectations.

Mismatched expectations end relationships. And relationships are foundational to all we do as humans on this planet.

It turns out that the way to communicate our expectations and match them up to someone else's, it to talk about it. For this to work well, I need to understand what you mean, and vice versa.

So, please don't forget: language is important for communication.

Sometimes you should order the platter

When to order a shared platter instead of a main dish:

  • When you aren’t sure how hungry you are

  • When you feel like sharing

  • When everything on the menu looks delicious

  • When you don’t know what anything on the menu is

  • When you just want to experiment a little

  • When it’s recommended

This is drawing a long bow, but perhaps a food platter is a little like co-housing: Not for everyone, or all the time. But sometimes, for some people, exactly right.

Solving the problem of problem solving

The Cynefin Framework categorises problems into four types, with four different approaches to solving the problem. Here’s my hyper-simplified take on it.

  1. Some problems are simple. You know what (small number) of actions to take, that are guaranteed to produce the result you’re after. Imagine this: it’s dark in a small room, there’s one light switch, and one light bulb, and you installed the wiring. Solution: You should have done it already.

  2. Some problems are complicated. There’s lots of actions you could take, but you’re not sure which ones to do, in which order. Imagine this: It’s dark in a big building. You know which lights you need on, but you don’t know which switch to flick. Solution: Get the person who knows to solve it (they have the manual/expertise).

  3. Some problems are complex. Again, lots of actions, but no-one knows how they’re connected to each other, or the outcomes you want. There is no expert. I don’t have example here, the lightbulbs/switches analogy really breaks down. Perhaps you’re in the same big building but you’re blindfolded, and some of the switches are voice/motion/clapper activated? Solution: Get a bunch of people together and start moving. You’ll figure it out.

  4. Some problems are chaotic. The lights keep turning on and off, and you have no idea why. Solution: Get out of there!

(For more detail and a much less tongue-in-cheek overview jump over to HBR)

Property is complex. For a few obvious reasons:

  1. People are involved. People always make it complex.

  2. Lots of people are involved. See above, and multiply the effect.

  3. People are still writing books about it. No-ones figured it out!

When I intersect these two things, I end up with one solution:

  • Get a bunch of mates together, and have a crack at doing something differently. Even just a little bit differently.

  • If you've got no mates who want to do that, go out and get some better mates, and try again.

If you’re looking for mates in New Zealand, these guys might be able to help.

Ever tried this?

I recently completed an assignment that included the following instruction:

Write a series of statements that define the essence of who you are.

Have you ever tried to do this?

I can recommend it.

But brace yourself for hard work.

This was a real assignment that I completed earlier this year.

It is impossible to reduce at the essence of a person to a finite number of words, but the following series of statements describe some of what I consider to be the ‘essential elements’ of who I am. These include aspects that significantly contribute to my happiness and engagement in my life and work, and describe my key values and passions.

  1. I must keep learning. I’m best when I’m discovering something new.

  2. I must stay grounded to a people and a place.

  3. I am comfortable leading.

  4. I thrive in complex environments where even the unknowns are unknown and the outcomes are uncertain.

  5. I make sense out of chaos. I see patterns, find connections and communicate meaning.

  6. I always have hope for the future.

  7. I value the uniqueness of an individual’s contribution and the mystery of collective intelligence.

  8. I assume a high level of trust in relationships.

  9. I care about making sure the voices of those not at the table are heard.

  10. I care about building new systems that work for those at the margins of society. If they don’t work for them, they don’t work at all.

Scheduling is better than backdating

This is (apparently) a daily blog. And yet, if you go back a few days, you’ll notice a week-long gap. Go back another week, and there’s another couple of days break. And, there’s a good couple of weeks of nothing over the Christmas/New Year summer break.

What’s going on here?

See, I figured out that backdating was a waste of time. And breaks are good. And that sometimes you need to cut your losses and walk away from sunk costs.

If there’s a gap in the posts, it’s because I already spent that time doing something else.

I’m better off living with that fact and figuring out if it was worth it, than I am trying to paper over bad habits by frantically back-dating a series of posts.

Of course, now my ‘failure’ is out there to be seen. But there’s an opportunity for growth.

Today, I think I found that growth. Today, I got back to scheduling posts. Today, I wrote three blog posts. Today, it’s Sunday 28th April.

It feels good to get ahead of the game instead of just playing catchup.

The true gift of friendship

The true gift of friendship isn’t the warm fuzzy feeling you get when you spend time with people you like (and who like you back). It’s having companions on the journey of life, no matter what it feels like.

Sharing life is good. And there are umpteen children’s books out there banging on about sharing (I’ve read a fair few of them!).

So why are we so hung up (and pretty bad at) sharing the dirt we live on?

Assertions are what matter

I’m learnt something recently about insights.

They’re most valuable when tied to an action.

Then, it’s called an assertion.

The issue is that when you tie an insight to an action to make an assertion, you’re on the hook. You might be wrong, and people can find out.

That’s called learning.

I hope that, over time, as we tie more insights to actions through assertions, we’ll learn more, faster, and do more things on purpose.

In the spirit of assertions, here’s one of my own.

The current property ownership system (around here, at least) doesn’t work for most people. (Insight)

Individual ownership doesn’t help, and collective ownership will help reshape our approach, and therefore outcomes, to property. (Action)

Now all that is left, is to do it.

More than a shelter

A house needs to cover of the basic functionality of sheltering us from the environment (something that seems to be getting more challenging…). And we could debate the merits of various building styles, standards and systems.

But let’s step away from a discussion about the quality of housing, and look at the quality of life.

Because when you throw ownership into the picture, a home is much more than a basic shelter.

It can increase our sense of connection with the rest of the natural world. Because at least a small part of it is our direct responsibility.

It extends our perspective and vision for life. Because we can’t pass on much to our children, but we can pass on land. Even if it is just stories of the land.

Stop to move forward

I’m testing a new habit at the moment. It’s part of a short 10-day series I’m working through on Headspace.

Four times a day I stop and pay attention to four complete breaths. In. Out. Four times.

It has something to productivity. I’m just going with it.

But here’s the thing: Briefly stopping what I’m doing does help me get more done. Counterintuitive for most of us, perhaps.

There may be a lesson to learn here: To get more of what you want, do the opposite, or something quite different, or at least not what you want to do, for a short while.

  • Want to build more houses? Maybe stop and think about what kind of houses we’re building before rushing headlong into a mad building project.

  • Want to buy a house? Try reviewing how you currently live to get a better feel for what you need, and what you value instead of listening to your friends, reality TV and real estate agents.

  • Want to build a house? Try actually building one, for someone else. These guys can help.