Project Management

Never Tell Me The Odds

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Han Solo’s famous quote (and Harrison Ford’s brilliance) aside, sometimes I want to know the odds. Actually I definitely want to know the odds, because I’m someone that likes to plan things, evaluate success, and plan for contingencies. I say this as a person who has debated with himself on “what day of the week does the week really start” kind of planning.

The odds, to me, a professional Project Manager (which I suppose means I’m worth listening to), are a way to calculate what to build. They let me evaluate success, plan for contingencies, and make something solid. If I do things right, the odds barely come into play because the plan, risk assessments, and options are all in place.

The odds are, at best, a tool, a way to get better, a way to improve. For all my world of flowcharts and checklists – professionally and privately – my world is one of solidity. I deal in how and results and measurements. From personal zines to environmental systems, it’s about results

But right now it seems society is more and more about playing the odds. As my friend Serdar put it once, more and more aspects of our society are coming to resemble a casino. The problem is casinos aren’t about building things, and that’s the problem.

As of this writing there are plenty of discussions about Kalshi, Polymarket, and other activities that are “prediction markets” which are really just gambling. That’s it, they’re gambling, and you can’t call it anything else. Draft Kings may have led the way with sports betting, but now we have prominent gambling companies. Call it what it is.

Our society is a casino. But it has been for awhile.

The stock market is not the economy, as we’re often reminded. It is, to an extent, about playing the odds and estimating chances. Now any economy is going to have some of that, as will any part, but if you ever looked at overvalued stocks and wondered, it’s not about the economy in many cases. It’s about the odds that something pays off, and it’s why some investments in companies that don’t do anything pay off, because people think they can sell before they loose.

Then there was Crypto, which really is just a stock on the blockchain. Then there was the NFTs, which thankfully crashed and burned then sunk into a swamp, that was gambling as well. Now we’re just to plain almost-honest gambling. It’d be refreshing if it wasn’t so prominent, so pathological, and in more and more cases it seems about people manipulating odds.

It’s all been a bit of gambling for decades – centuries? – but now it’s all gambling front and center. Bets and odds and manipulation. Know what it isn’t? Doing something with measurable achievements..

Where’s the plan? The results? The thing built? The thing made? Something that gets something done, that helps people, that can be felt, seen, touched, used? Where’s something I can break down into a Kanban backlog, where I can say “yes, here is a distinct result.”

But it’s a Casino. It’s about playing the odds, getting money, and that’s it. Nothing to be built, to be made, to be achieved. If you can manipulate things (say, with a bit of insider political information) so much the better. Why do something that has a role, a result, a history when you can just get paid for wondering what the body count is in a train wreck?

Play the odds enough and that’s all you can do. Look for the gamble, the payoff, the high. You just slosh money around and play the odds. That’s it.

The Casino economy is forgetting how to do things, and forgetting the value of doing things for and with people. And as a Project Manager, a person, and a citizen, I hate it.

Steven Savage

Pandemic Disjunction

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

As my regular readers know, I work in medical technology and IT. It won’t surprise you that I am putting a lot of thought into Bird Flu right now and what kind of responses will be needed. Some of the responses are going to involve me and people like me so I think about it, and by that I sometimes mean panic in a very organized manner.

Now I’m not an infectious disease expert – I’m a Project Manager with a psych degree. I can’t predict the chance of this kind of thing or that or A-3 versus A-6 swaps and so on. I’m more interested how we respond and what I need to worry about to keep things running. I’ll let the medical experts tell me when to worry – well worry, more as I’m also a hypochondriac.

What can I say, I fit my job.

And since I like to talk Project Management, because it relates to my career and to current events, let me share one of my big fears about Bird Flu – what I call The Disjunction. I am very concerned that the response to Bird Flu becoming a pandemic will be a bunch of completely incoherent, disconnected responses which will make it much worse.

We’re a pretty dis-unified country in many ways. I don’t think we can have a unified response to a new pandemic. We have states fighting with and trying to show up each other, and some states basically owned by their political machines. Imagine the response to Bird Flu . . .

One state makes its own vaccines, another finds some loopy lawmaker try to outlaw 5G, one does lockdowns, another bans masks, etc. I’ve seen pretty diverse COVID responses and fluctuations among states now, and considering the amount of B.S. surrounding health these days, I expect if Bird Flu gets to pandemic level, it’ll be worse.

We’re not going to easily get to the truth considering the state of communications. Many news agencies don’t do their job, “both sides things” and of course kiss up to whoever their billionaire owners need to kiss up to. Social Media is awash in conspiracy theories easily monetized, and I don’t even know what’s going on at Meta anymore. We’re not going to have any unified viewpoint or sane, broad method of discussion – there’s no adults in the room.

Social media and quisling news will make it worse.

Speaking of, I don’t expect our “leadership” to handle it. I’ve not exactly been thrilled with the CDC for the last few years anyway. With the promise of RFK and others of his ilk as medical leaders, I’m even more cynical – even if they don’t get in they and their replacements will cause problems. I also expect assorted self-interested politicians and pundits will happily stake out their territories, rile people up with conspiracy theories, and try to take advantage of people. Oh, and I expect lots of people to try to do the right thing but it will be hard.

I think the future response to Bird Flu in the US won’t be a bad response but fifty different state responses, with multitudes of local responses, many of them conflicting. Which might not sound as bad as one unified really bad response, but it’s going to be disconnected and incoherent and that leads to its own problems.

I can see a lot of ways this breaks.

States and cities and so on that take the right measures will still have to deal with the results of others taking bad ones. Having people mask, or get vaccinated, or whatever is great, but when your neighbors are finding new ways to get infected then it reduces your efforts. We share a viral destiny here in this world, and very bad policy can reduce good policy – and that makes for other conflicts.

These disjunctions will generate confusion. Where is it safe to travel? Where do you ship things? How should a hospital respond to emergencies from places of radically different measures of protection? How will people figure out the best response when people are confused, disjointed, and of course deranged or lying?

These disjunctions and confusion will lead to conflicts. States will sue each other, sue the government, cities suing states, personal lawsuits, etc. Do you put in a travel ban on a state awash in Bird Flu? Plus there will be the crazy conspiracy theories, like folks who thought the COVID vaccine made you spread disease.

Some conflicts will doubtlessly get violent. People are primed for it. We’ve seen a lot of disinhibition in this country (which I may comment on more).

As all of this happens, we won’t have accurate numbers. One state will scrupulously measure everything, another won’t report for, I dunno, religious reasons or something. Getting a handle on the pandemic and its impact will be hard. I also expect attempts to cover numbers up by unscrupulous politicians, and you can imagine how that’ll backfire. When your next election comes up, many a politician will want to hide that pile of corpses or the failing hospitals.

Finally all these problems will be exhausting. Remember COVID? Remember that grind? Remember the wearing stupidity? Ready for it again, only with even more to wear you down because now people are primed to discuss how Ivermectin protects you from Chinese bioweapons created by a secret cabal to make you sterile so FInland can seize control? We’re ready to be dumb faster.

So if Bird Flu goes pandemic in the new few years, I don’t just expect an inappropriate federal response, I expect a disjunction among responses all over. It’ll make it harder to manage, ensure more suffering, and scar us pretty badly. Well scar us badly, again.

So me, I’ll be doing doing what I do, keeping things running – find and focus on real goals. Make sure those I work with can do real medicine. I’ll also be ready to stay informed and build my behavior around the idea a lot of people are not coordinated and many are wrong if not malicious. I’ll also be ready to deal with the disjunctions.

A lot of this will be with me buckling the hell down, trying to stay sane. Trying to survive so I can help.

And of course to say “I told you so.” But that part I hate.

I hope I’m wrong.

Steven Savage

Efficient Misery

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Note: You’re going to see a switch in how I do my blog posts.  I’m trying a more personal voice, and writing on broader subjects, ala my past hero Dave Barry.  It can’t all be about writing!

I really like organizing things.  I get paid for it.  I’m honestly pretty good about it, which can be a really bad thing sometimes.

So, ‘tis the season for medical stuff.  I’ve got vaccines (at least two). I’ve got the regular tests and checkups a man of fifty five has to ensure my body and I work in tandem.  Some of those tests involve fasting and/or various forms of personal violation.  Gotta pace that stuff to keep the rate of indignity to a tolerable level.

I also have some in-office things coming up at work.  My workplace is pretty remote in the work-at-home not emotional-distance way, but once or twice a year we get together so we can remark how we all look different on Zoom.  Gotta work around that too!

So my brilliant idea was to pace myself.  A vaccination one week, then one the week after, since the last time I did flu and covid shots together I felt like I’d slammed a bottle of rum but without the convenience of being too blacked out to know how bad I felt.  Do my exams after the last exam because hey a little fasting won’t hurt after that.  Then right into the all-hands! Nice and convenient and nothing piles up!

Know what, my highly organized plan had one flaw – it meant four weeks where life was intermittently punctuated with low-grade misery.

Sure, the effects of one vaccine wore off in two days, just in time for me to get going to have another vaccination.  Then fasting, which is somehow less fun after two weeks of dealing with vaccine side effects!  Then regular exams that I scheduled in What-Was-I-Thinking-O’Clock in the morning.  Then getting up at the same time days later to drive through Bay Area traffic for days.

I achieved that experience many a Project Manager knows all too well, succeeding in a way that also makes you entirely unhappy.

Well, at least it’s almost over.  So now time to gear up for the last stage of waking up early and whatever.  But next time, maybe I’ll take my discomfort and misery in a  more condensed form.

Steven Savage