psychology

The Puzzle Problem

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(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)

Ages ago I was working on some scheduling software used to schedule setting up computers in data centers. This is pretty complex as you’ve got a giant building and you need the space, the power, the networking hookups, and enough ventilation. Before you schedule and do any of that you have to check if it can be done – you might be facing power limits, overheating, lack of parts, and so on. If you haven’t been in a data center, it’s a balancing act just to set things up – I can get into that in another time.

Anyway I was looking at this software which I hadn’t written but was maintaining and got ideas on how to make it more efficient. I eventually worked out a way to get scheduling tracked down to tiny increments so we’d know who was doing what at all time!

“Don’t do it, people will hate you,” is a rough summary of my boss’ reaction.

Of course I realized that my cool idea that would allow for such precision would be insufferable to the people doing the job. They’d have schedules with no wiggle room that they’d either break or have to constantly update making their jobs harder and more stressful. Plus the jobs would be less efficient because of my bright idea as the tracking tool would be the centerpiece of my life.

Besides, you know, maybe I should have thought about just trusting the people doing their damn job.

If you haven’t been a software guy or an engineer, you may figure this is obvious. But when you’re an engineer of some kind, or any other “making/solving” profession, solving a problem and making a cool solution can become paramount over anything else. Including people hating you.

It’s fun to make solutions even if they’re stupid and unrealistic in reality. If youre solutions-oriented (like me) even more so. This is also why – in part – I think our Internet Age has created so much stupid and bad stuff.

Technology also lets us solve problems quickly and at scale. You can hook up a few web frameworks and transform a web page. YOu can push a solution to A/B testing or production and people are using it right away. It’s almost enough to make you forget good QA!

(I joke, people have been always forgetting QA).

Making things happen is a rush, and technology lets us deliver it faster and get that rush. Of course it may also mean we’ve just done something dumb, quickly, and at scale.

But we might not even realize how bad our latest idea is. We made the thing fast, we got the thing working, it’s just what we wanted – and only later discover it’s a terrible concept.

Worse, the marketing department or investors may tell us it’s a great idea and we never realize our latest bright idea for a Thermos with Bluetooth is insufferably stupid.

No matter how much of the strange and stupid things spewed out of technology companies may be pandering stock-jacking ideas, part of this “joy of solving” is almost certainly part of it. Someone had a great idea – even if it’s just a way to tweak the stock price with a useless release – and implemented it. Money and power can tempt people, but that rush of a solution turn off your morals as well.

So when we look at many strange, useless, and outright immoral technologies don’t just follow the money. Somewhere in the lineage is probably more than a few people who just had so much fun “making things work” they didn’t think about it.

Steven Savage

The Result Isn’t The Thing

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(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)

In a recent discussion with Serdar – which seems to drive no small amount of my posts apparently – we were discussing writing and results. Both of us being writers, we’ve both put out a lot of, well, product in the form of books, blog posts, zines, and so on. We’ve also encountered many people who somehow can’t get product out, endlessly not finishing things.

(Also I hate calling my writing product. I also hate calling it content. But I digress, possibly enough to have a followup blog post.)

My terminology hangups assigned,I kept thinking about how people wanted to finish product (ugh) but never got to it. Never got a book done, couldn’t get a blog post out, and so on. They would talk about finishing but never get it done. Yet product was on their mind.

This got me thinking about how the focus on product is a problem, because product isn’t writing. Product is the result of writing. It’s the result of a process.

To write you have to write. Put pen to paper, finger to keyboard, and do it.

Except you also have to plot. You have to write things down, make plans, possibly throw them all away. You have to come up with what to say be it a mystery or the narrative you tell in a business advice book on textiles.

(Trust me, any good nonfiction book has narratives, it’s how humans think).

But to get to all that plotting you also need ideas. Brainstorming. Thinking things up. Trying things out. Breaking down in frustration and eating pastries when they don’t work (apple fritter is my preference here).

Then once you do all of the above and get something written you have to get beta readers, edit, run it through legal. If you’re self-published there’s formatting, covers, setting up, marketing.

Then, only then, do you have a product (again, ugh), because of a process. The actual book, the actual blog post, or wherever, is a small part of writing and publishing. Also by the time you’re done you’re probably on to something else, possibly to avoid thinking about the book you just put out.

But the product is just what a process produces, and unless you’re into the process you won’t get out the product. Endless speculation on the final product keeps you from getting it done. I say this having written any number of things, some stunningly mediocre, but at least they were done and real. And yes, I moved on because I love the process of writing.

I think the endless enchantment of the end result deceives us. We feel it can’t be reached, we feel it must be a certain thing, or we can see it but not get there. But it misses that you just keep going keep trying, keep putting one metaphorical foot in front of the other, and write. Yes it may not be what you expected – it probably never is – but it’s done and out.

I also think this is why the fascination with AI is so powerful for some people. They imagine product dropped in their lap or made for them, ready for a bit of editing and then delivery. But the thing is that’s not the process, the real lives experience, the building of skill, the you saying something. It’s not about being a writer.

And if you want to be a writer, you embrace the process (sometimes gingerly) and write until you’re done. Or done enough. Or just disgusted so you toss it out into the world. But it’s done.

Steven Savage

See the Door Before You Open It

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(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)

Serdar and I were recently discussing how certain opportunities open doors for people. I noted that sometimes its not opening the door, it’s seeing it in the first place. We can’t open the door until we see it.

(We also want to see the door before opening it in case it’s a bad idea. But anyway, I don’t want to over-follow this metaphor).

This idea of “seeing the door” led me to think about a few examples from my own creative and professional life I wanted to share to illustrate the point.

Creatively, as some of my regular readers know, I do surrealist collage art under a pen name (art name?). I got into this via small press zines, originally just to add some decoration, but quickly got very into the collagist style. Now I’m using museum images, researching art history, and creating some truly strange and wild stuff – and learning about graphics and imaging tools and making new friends.

I’d never have thought of doing this except for, well, a series of events. Now I can see how I enjoy unusual art and such. I have done graphics before, but did I expect to pick up playing Max Ersnt in my 50s? No. However it all makes sense, filling my sense of curiosity, of creativity, and a desire to connect via creativity.

I didn’t see the door until I tried something different.

Career-wise, let’s talk laboratories. As folks know I work in medical research and education as a Project Manager. I got assigned to work on a project to set up some environmental monitoring for a lab, and after some research, found there was other work to be done as well. Suddenly I’m down the rabbit hole on environmental sensors, chemical testing, and equipment so heavy it needs special tables to use – and I’m having an incredible time.

Plus sometimes I wear a Geiger counter at work or get my shoes checked for hazmat.

I’d have never thought that, say, things like liquid nitrogen or worrying about sensor condensation were a thing for me. Yet, I found the world of lab setups exciting and stimulating, a whole new world that called on my organization skills, social skills, and science skills. What started as a chance assignment and my own hard-headed dedication to researching project needs has started to define my career.

I didn’t see the door until I tried something different.

The ability to see the door is just as important as being able to open it. Maybe moreso since we can’t open it until we see it (and if we can’t open it we can learn how to or break it down). To see the door to something more you have to try new things, experience new things, and get educated.

This is why education matters, why new experience matters, why knowing there are unseen doors matters.

I’m in or approaching middle age, depending on who you ask – but I keep going, the above things make me feel alive. I have friends who are the same, always finding new doors, always alive. I have older friends and family who keep finding new things and they have that spark.

Keep finding doors. Keep setting up situations so you can find new doors.

Steven Savage