(really) entrepreneureal

In the age of built-in-your-garage, do-it-yourself internet whizz-bang, we are getting more and more fascinating glimpses into what makes the teams behind such initiatives work.
Some, like Pete Cashmore of Mashable, or Evan Williams at Blogger, are one-man bands, and seem to work best that way.  Pete was an upstart Scott who hit on a topic of great interest (and built a thriving community around it), while Evan saw the future of blogging before anyone else (and managed to scare off all his team members in the process).  One person teams obviously need technical expertise, and a certain brand of personality and perseverance to push on through The Dip.

At the next level up we see two-person teams, such as the guys behind Digg, or Evan again at Twitter with his co-founder, or even Sergey and Larry.  The people who make up these teams usually combine similar kinds of technical expertise, which is useful for hammering away during coding all-nighters.  Like playground buddies back in second grade, or chimpanzees in a zoo pen, so long as there are fun toys around they’ll get along fine.  This kind of skill match may seem like the norm, but what happens when the skill sets don’t match?

Well, we might as well point to the most well-known dynamic duo that exhibits this kind of mismatch: Jobs and Wozniak.  Woz had the technical prowess while Jobs had enough mouth and verbal diarrhea/flair to sell anything (as well as a god-given design eye to boot).  They have obviously proven to be a good match, but apparently weren’t without their own problems – even the most unassuming ego (such as Wozniak’s) can’t find it easy to be trampled on by someone who never takes no for an answer.

It seems, then, that personality plays as much a part as technical skill: even a technically mismatched duo can be successful if the personality types involved don’t clash in the wrong ways.  So to all you techies out there: hang in there, the crazy ideas coming from your partner in crime might have a kernel of truth to them, even if they do stem from an ignorant brain.  And to all you idea guys – and gals: you’d better hope that there’s more to your ideas than pure fluff, or your techie friend might very well leave you up shit creek.

Here’s to finding myself a techie friend

I’ve become fascinated lately by the way in which we “share something of great value” (to quote the TED folks quite loosely).  What am I referring to?

Ideas.

Building on my last post, which discussed how people do/n’t buck social norms and trends (like work dress and stuff), I want to make the following proposition:

“The way in which we ideate, that is, create, develop and share ideas, is all wrong.”

And it all boils down to the basic components of a conversation.

The typical way that two people communicate with one another is through speech, and it’s often a messy, disorganized affair.  Each person verbalizes a thought, and there’s a jilted back-and-forth dynamic in most cases: you say one thing, I respond and counter, to which you respond… You get the idea.

The truth is, however, that this ‘ideal’ give and take format doesn’t really hold – in truly natural conversations (that assume engagement and a certain level of passion and excitement), the give and take gives way to more of a stumble: people interject, either with questions or comments; people respond through expressions such as laughter or body language, and the whole thing more closely resembles a scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding rather than The Practice.  Why is it, then, that we assume that the best way to deal with ideas is to constrain them with such restrictive conversational rules?

Honestly, I could come up with loads of reasons as to why it is so, but I’d much rather talk about how things should be.

How ideas take shape throughout the course of a conversation is something that we need to reexamine – it isn’t enough to assume that the regular give and take model of conversation is necessarily the best thing for ideas.  If anything, I feel that doing the respectful/normal thing (like waiting for someone to finish their thought/phrase/comment) is counterintuitive in that it stifles innovation and dynamism.  Like the problem of path dependency, once something is out there, whether it’s a thought, a phrase, or an action, it’s awfully difficult to budge or change.

The same applies to ideas.  Once someone fully expresses a thought the tendency is to want to defend it; similarly, the respondent will usually attack or respond with a separate idea, which then sets the respondent on their own path.  We all tout the benefits of really ‘listening’ to one other, but the sad fact is that this is rarely the case.  Unless one is proven totally wrong on a certain point, pitting idea to idea like we’re in an intellectual cockfight is akin to positional bargaining  (and we all know how this ends up).

The beauty of more dynamic conversations, where people put aside their egos and agendas and allow interjection, idea deflection and, hell, even interruption, is that it provides the most likelihood of reaching true ideation by opening other conversational (and ideational) possibilities that didn’t exist before.  It’s like Romeo and Juliet – if someone had interrupted Romeo during one of his interminable soliloquys, or whispered in Juliet’s ear as she was venting on the horrors of being a Capulet (”Hey, Juliet, there’s another way out of this…”), then who knows how the saga would’ve have ended.

It might even have had a Disney ending.

I’ve been struck recently by how comfortable people are with the status quo in work situations, and how uncomfortable they are with bucking it.

This may not come as a surprise to many, but I have been operating with the assumption that there is an underlying truth to everything we do, and who we are, an assumption that has been sorely tested.  It goes like this: I assume that in most situations people want to feel comfortable, at ease, at home, able to interact and communicate openly, be challenged (positively), be free to challenge, and generally not be constrained by anything other than an understanding that whatever we choose to do must not cause undue harm, humiliation or discomfort to those in our surroundings.

The specific scenario that’s bothering me right now is work attire, and how so many people feel the pressure to ‘dress up’, or ‘dress to respect’.  This obviously causes me some pain if you take for granted my assumption above, which would mean that most people have to compromise themselves in order to conform.
Now, I’m no fan of rocking the boat, necessarily.  I won’t wear flip flops to meet the president, or a t-shirt to a wedding, because they aren’t places where rocking the boat or making a statement will be most effective.  I would only end up pissing off the bride and groom and alienating the the prez (which may not be a bad thing these days).  No, the places where I advocate bucking the trend, either by wearing different clothes (normal clothes, not a clown costume) or suggesting alternative conversational and interactive arrangements, are any situations where the primary goal is to design, develop, trade and test new (or old) ideas.  More on this next.

Although I seem to focus heavily on the importance of design, whether it be graphic, process, organizational or whatever, I assure you that it is entirely due to my daily experience (unfortunately so, at times).

Case in point: remote working.  A friend of mine gave me a perfect example of what not to do when working remotely, from which I will draw today’s material.  The situation?  She had a document to write with her boss due at the end of the week, but he was out of town and with almost no connectivity under the day of the deadline.  Rather than go into the details of the process (boring), or how frustrating it all was (very), I’ll stick to the lessons she learned:

1. Don’t collaborate if half of the team members don’t actually know how or want to.

Seems pretty basic, but before trying to work remotely, never mind in person, it might make sense to figure out if collaboration is even possible.  In this case study, half of the team (ie: my friend’s boss) has a history of not working well with others – big surprise that it didn’t work over distance.

2. Set a plan for when to stay in touch – and stick to it.

Part of my friend’s problem was that there was no structured schedule for when to stay in touch, and what was due when.  The end result was that even when they did get on the phone with one another (which they did once over the 5 day period), they weren’t on the same page, comments and feedback were unstructured, and deadlines were unclear.

3. Choose how to stay in touch (and make sure it fits the need).

Too often people use phone calls and teleconferences because they don’t think a video meeting, or Go2Meeting-style web conference is worth the extra effort.  Trust me, it is.  Going through textual changes over the phone assumes everyone is looking at the same document, which is usually never the case given PC-to-Mac compatibility issues, software glitches and the like.  All the more reason to both actually see the changes being made, the thought process behind them, and make the visual link wherever possible.  If this type of interaction isn’t possible and a phone is all you’ve got, make sure you’ve got plenty of time (see Lesson 4 below).

4. Make time work separately – and together.

This goes beyond just getting in touch, because a simple 5 minute phone call to review a 10 page document will hardly suffice.  Taking the time to work separately, but more importantly together, is crucial in order to keep both minds on the same page.  Short interactions lead to crossed wires and quick judgment, neither of which help, and both of which are exacerbated by the absence of face time.

5. Iterate.

Stick to the formula (be willing to collaborate, set a plan and keep to it, and make time to work separately and together), and do it as many times as possible.  The old days of you-write-a-big-chunk-which-I’ll-then-review-over-time are gone.  The new model is write quickly, review even faster, and do it all often.  Sure, this might be difficult for people who are used to taking too long to do everything, but there’s a case to be made for focused interval work in iterations (here, here and for the same case applied to fitness, here).

I was just gabbing with Damon from Web3dStudents.org (a great organization that you should definitely check out.  For Damon’s sharp-witted musings on the Open Metaverse and the future of mixed reality, check him out here) about the upcoming election, and how it’s resulting in a revelation for him by airing all sorts of skeletons from closets he didn’t even realize were out there.  The first skeleton to rear its ugly (bony) head?

People aren’t as smart as we would like to think.

This isn’t meant as an intellectual attack, or a condescending critique of the brainpower of the average American, but more of a realization that the image of semi-sophistication we are presented by the various media outlets (like newspapers, op-eds, blogs, heck, even political commentary on FOX News) does not represent the majority.  In fact, the Bubba interviews that we get on local news (”Uhhh, I didn’t ree-uh-lize that mah vee-hicle would do that”) are likely more representative, if that isn’t scary enough.

Second skeleton?

There is an intellectual disconnect between the local and the international.

What do I mean by this?  Well, it goes like this: a certain country gains its independence from an old colonial power.  This same country then proceeds to dominate two world wars, while simultaneously building up a reputation – and a world market – around its industrial, and then technological, prowess.  The country constantly teeters at the top of the world economic order, as well as the shit list of every terrorist on the planet (or so some would have you believe).  Now, it totally makes sense to assume that such a magnificent country, with such an amazing reputation and indisputable track record of economic and technological success, would be built on the backs of total geniuses.  Right?  Riiiiight?!

Wrong.

We constantly make the fundamental mistake of assuming that the global presence of an industrial power is mirrored in its people, when this could never really be the case.  Think about it: the knowledge of those behind the Agricultural sector (farmers), the Finance sector (analysts), even the damn WalMart sector (average Joes and Janes) is super specific and, let’s face it, often super limited.  The complex intellectual arguments that take place at the global level around geo-politics, international finance, international development, etc., these are all anomalies, and must appear like a foreign language to avid FOX News watchers.  And can we imagine a world run by academics, or moguls like Branson?  Our corn fields would die, we would live and die by the next white paper and, to top it all off, we’d be in jail (and then maybe make a billion dollars. Maybe).

There are countries out there that are banking (future pun intended) their reputations on the backs of exactly this fact of life: Dubai, Singapore, Switzerland, etc.  These countries have the benefit of hindsight, and the flexibility (usually linked to their small size) to adapt to the changing reality on the ground, and are consciously choosing to evolve and progress along a different path.  Unfortunately, many countries don’t have this luxury – especially those dependent on the industrial and economic backbones that got them this far.

So, does this mean we’re screwed?  Well, whether we vote for Sarah Palin or not, it would seem that the correlation between international success in the long term and local smarts isn’t exactly set in stone.  If anything, it’s a recognition that the sum truly is greater than the parts, and that even dispersed individuals who wouldn’t know France from a frenulum sometimes get it right.

Good riddance.

I found out something fascinating today about the U.S. government.  For a lumbering bureaucracy long criticized for its impregnable walls, poor internal communication, and miles and miles of cubicle heaven, there is one office within the fortress that would seem to have a step up on the others: LPA.  Since LPA refers to a current client of mine I certainly can’t disclose the full name here, but if you did a simple Google Search you might be able to guess at which office I have in mind.  For the time being I’ll call it the office-that-shall-not-be-named.

How did I figure out just how powerful this little backwater of the U.S. federal government is?  Well, I have previously referred to an ongoing design project, replete with its hiccups and speedbumps, and was – until this morning – under the impression that the main management team had agreed on a color schema for a core piece of the project (rhymes with “no-go”).  Turns out that the office-that-shall-not-be-named took offense to one of the colors in particular because it did not fit in with the ‘branding guidelines’ of the overall organization.

This in spite of the fact that the explicit mission of the project was to remove it far as possible from the main organization in terms of content, voice, branding, and identity – and the color schema was designed precisely with this in mind.

Of course, there is a certain logic to having LPA oversee branding and marketing materials: because if every project needed its own identity, the main organization would soon look like a horrible Frankenstein of mix-and-match parts, held tenuously together by little more than duct tape and accountants.

Or would that really be the case?  Maybe LPA has authority over visual branding because it’s the easiest (read: only) aspect of the thousands of projects in the ether that it can possibly hope to control.  But does it really make sense to link projects by color scheme?  Does it make sense to link them at all?  Maybe the strength of the organization should come from a core ethos that is translated through every project, regardless of what colors it flies under.

One can dream…

I got a call this morning from a client who’s having last minute jitters.  We’re 4 days from launching an online community website, and it seems that some pre-launch doubts have crept in – and I’ve been told that we’re postponing the release.  Damn.

It’s not that pushing the launch back is a bad idea – there’s always time for improvement- but more that I’m finally faced with the consequences of what happens when one shortcuts the design process.  What do I mean exactly?

The same thing happened last month with a logo design project I was working on.  A short time-line (and zero budget) meant that I felt forced to cut corners: do minimal research, make loads of assumptions, take risks, and go out on a limb in terms of what I thought would approximate the client’s vision.

Ooops.

Turns out that the small “d” design process, involving an iterative ‘deep dive’ into client wants, needs, expectations, desires and dreams is popular for a reason: it works.  And this is especially true for clients who don’t know what they want (or can’t verbalize/envision it, anyway), and both of the above clients fall into this category.  Perhaps not surprisingly, then, short-cutting the process can have undesirable results.

Lessons learned?

• Compromising the design process is like playing russian roulette with the final product.
• Taking (the wrong) short-cuts can jeopardize your client relationship, and creates tensions where there needn’t be any.
• Not making all of this clear up front can have interesting consequences.

I will definitely think twice before doing THAT again…

As I was walking down the street to work today, I arrived at a street corner and was faced with an interesting problem: should I visit the local store that touts “organic” coffee, or keep going half a block and visit Starbucks?

My knee-jerk reaction was to support the local coffee joint, if only to give a nod to organic coffee (and local business to boot). The underlying logic was that Starbucks is an evil giant that A. does not serve organic coffee and B. is big and evil.  Logical, of course, but that was my gut reaction – and I used to work there!

The problem is, though, I assumed that by pulling my support for Starbucks I would encourage better behaviour on their part.  Of course, this is flawed because by no longer self-identifying as a Starbucks customer, I would effectively remove myself from the conversation.  No conversation = no chance to affect change.

Alternatively, I could just go to the local organic shop and hope Starbucks notices when I stop showing up for my daily fix.  Of course, this only works if thousands and thousands do the same, because as much as I’d like to think my cute barista notices me, I am, after all, nothing more than another upside-down iced caramel macchiato.

And that got me thinking: the problem with big companies is that they lose touch with their audience, their fans, their loyal customers.  As a company grows, it becomes more and more difficult to internalize what customers are saying – it’s not that having the conversation is difficult (customers are there, day in, day out, and usually like it when given the chance to offer input), it’s more that even with valuable information (like customer feedback), the company has so much inertia that actually bridging the gap between information and change is often all but impossible.

Add to the mix the problem of a huge customer base (with a gazillion ideas for how to improve the customer experience), and it gets even harder to respond.  So the Starbucks Problem is this: if the main way that customers show displeasure is by no longer self-identifying as such, is it too late?

My sense is no, because even though it goes against the adage, I do believe that people – and companies – can change.

Check out Starbucks’ effort to avoid the Starbucks Problem, or at least show that it can change: www.mystarbucksidea.com