Computer systems are the digital application that we often think of first, when considering a ‘system’. There are many analogue systems too, in life, work, and projects.

Systems are things working together, or, an organised scheme or methods. Much of our day is governed by systems: the transport network, smartphone connectivity, elevators.

Other examples of systems include document control, air traffic control, and the school system. They are everywhere, and they are essential to the functioning of society.

They are also useful in our workday, to help get things done. A good system helps to prevent the costs of rework.

Borrowing some ideas from Sam Harris’s recent podcast with Michele Gelfand, culture is like a computer operating system. It’s there in the background, running the show, even though we don’t see the details or the moving parts. It’s there, but it’s entirely invisible.

Cultural norms exist in nations, in households, and in organisations. Cultural strength is differentiated by how closely rules are followed. A tight culture is often co-identified with a collective threat level, such as chronic natural disasters. There’s an interesting link between threat level and rule-following: higher threat levels result in more consistent rule-following as the cultural norm.

David Graeber published a book in 2018 with the catchy title: “BS Jobs – the rise of pointless work and what we can do about it”. It is a compelling philosophy.

Summarising it is fraught, but the overarching accusation is that there are a lot of senior jobs that are extraneous.

I postulated quietly in April 2020 that perhaps the working from home phenomenon would expose the BS jobs – because in this environment, extraneous roles would be more obvious.

Alas, it seems that has not been the case. Some are ‘busier than ever’. And there are still BS roles in place.

Books (non-fiction), or work documents (reports, emails) can be categorised as either practical or theoretical.

A practical book depends on action for solutions. “Do X, and Y will happen”.

A theoretical book presents solutions through explanations. “In the past, X was done, and the observers realised that ‘Y’ was happening. This is something to be known about”.

Practical documents don’t solve a problem, but doing the action described in them, should. Practical documents contain rules, prescriptions, maxims, or directions.

Theoretical documents describe something to be known, or, solves problems with words.

Beware of theoretical documents when they should be practical.

Meetings are not communities in the defined sense. But recognising the good parts of communities will make meetings better.

Communities of interest, action or practise are three kinds of communities that exist in the professional landscape. They have a camaraderie, connection, and a shared sense of purpose.

Communities have ‘meetings’, but they might not feel like meetings because of the community vibe.

Running a business meeting could tap into those same aspects. Take the opportunity to develop a sense of community, if only for that short moment in time.

The better the rapport in a meeting, the better the meeting.

“What’s in it for me” (WIIFM, pronounced “wifim”) is a key ingredient in projects, committees, or, setting up a purpose-community (such as a community of practise, a wiki, or a support group).

Why join a community? You can build the best community space, but it’s not a community if you’ve not thought enough of the members and what’s in it for them.

The hard part can be answering that: what’s in it for them; figuring out what they want. I’m currently involved in a couple of purpose-community initiatives, and it’s not as easy as “surely everyone will want this, right?”

Being part of community allows us the opportunity to connect. While it’s a positive that technology allows online connection with people from around the world, humans mostly still prefer in-person connections.

While this is more limited in the current times, it will not always be this way. Humans will default to connecting in person again, when the time is right.

Connection is one thing; the ability to have deep conversation is another. I think we’ll find, after this is over, that online connections, while essential now, will fall away in favour of in person conversations as soon as we can.

[ Gathering ]

The idea of a ‘gathering’ feels somewhat informal. It builds a picture of milling around, some small groups forming, but no coherence or structure.

Any group, community, or meeting is, by definition, a gathering. Maybe some should have structure. Those gatherings are for a purpose, to achieve a goal.

There’s an art to managing a gathering for an outcome. There’s even a book about it by Priya Parker. In it, she recognises the importance of a skilled host at a gathering. Also, the need for structure, purpose, and the right number at a goal-based gathering (i.e., your next work meeting).

If ever there was a time that community is important, now is the time.

Our social structures have been somewhat decimated in the past twelve months. I hadn’t realised how important it is to have the informal yet regular contact – in person – with members of my various communities.

Communities form when people share something in common. A community might be based on industry or employer, or it might be based on similar interests, outlooks, goals, geographic location, or circumstances.

We haven’t changed in tens of thousands of years. We still need to belong to a community in order to survive.

Habits define the sum of our lives.

I’ve learned that restarting a past habit is both easier, and harder, than starting a new habit.

Resurrecting a habit from the past already has some built in ‘muscle memory’. This makes it easier than starting a new one: we have a history, we have evidence, we have (past) results.

A habit from our past, that we’ve stopped, then exposes us to life without that habit. And sometimes, maybe, life is easier without it.

But sometimes, we miss the routine of that habit, and the satisfaction (or relief) when the task is done.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty. Forty-one. Forty-two. Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven. Forty-eight. Forty-nine. Fifty. Fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three. Fifty-four. Fifty-five. Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. Sixty. Sixty-one. Sixty-two. Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Sixty-five. Sixty-six. Sixty-seven. Sixty-eight. Sixty-nine. Seventy. Seventy-one. Seventy-two. Seventy-three. Seventy-four. Seventy-five. Seventy-six. Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine. Eighty. Eighty-one. Eighty-two. Eighty-three. Eighty-four. Eighty-five. Eighty-six. Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine. Ninety. Ninety-one. Ninety-two. Ninety-three. Ninety-four. Ninety-five. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One-hundred.

Those who know me, know I participate in ultra-endurance events like Ironman triathlons and running events of 100km or more. This weekend, I was signed up to participate in a unique event called a “backyard ultra”. Look it up if you’re interested. But never mind, it was cancelled, due to the snap lockdown in Brisbane this week. I guess I’ll run a few loops in my neighbourhood instead.

I’m taking another break from #100wordsaday. It might be for the weekend; it might be for the month of April. As with a backyard ultra, we don’t know when it will end.

I was in a role as Acting General Manager of an engineering department, in my early 30s. It was during a takeover/merger, and the manager who had been seconded elsewhere was returning.

It was a pivotal decision moment for me, and he put it plainly for me. It was time to decide if I wanted to be a specialist (technical) or generalist (managerial).

Not that it was a difficult decision. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been in the AGM role if I had leanings towards technical expertise.

If you’re going to be a generalist, be an expert at it.

Thinking, reasoning, making inferences, making sense. These are all required if logic required. Being purely logical is almost the opposite of being creative and innovative.

A logical argument first needs a solid and clear proposition statement, idea, or concept. That statement (or hypothesis) will either be accurate (true) or not accurate (false). To build confidence and belief in the proposition, some facts or details are presented. Eventually, when enough information and knowledge has transpired, a conclusion about the proposition can be made.

For those who lean towards being logical, also remember there are others out there who don’t think logically.

For any process or activity that has been done before, there’s usually a logical sequence for it. We benefit from the knowledge of those before us, who have figured out the best sequence.

A silly example is socks before shoes. Less silly examples are valve opening procedures, or painting the house walls before the timber flooring goes in.

The builder of the new house in our neighbourhood have put in the flooring before painting, and are calling themselves innovative. Innovation is important, and it’s fair to question ‘we’ve always done it that way’. But sometimes, it is better that way.

I see the word argument and often first think quarrel or disagreement. It’s unfortunate, because an argument is also a ‘thing’, as in the reasoning given for (or against) something under discussion. A good argument, as a thing not the action of, allows us to compare evidence, seek proof, and continue the process of reasoning and discussing.

A well-written report should pose a solid and clear argument, without being argumentative. The argument might start with a conclusion and explain how the author got there, or, it might start with examples and reasons, building to a conclusion. Either structure argues well.

Getting, or giving, an overview about a topic, project, or solution, is a necessary work task. Overviews are the helicopter, high level view.

An overview is a summary of a lot of other detail and knowledge. So, if you’re getting an overview, be cognisant that you are only getting a summary, which someone else has prioritised.

If you’re giving an overview, keep in mind the audience: their knowledge, experience, and expectations. In order to give a well-structured, logical, and understandable overview, you need to know your topic in great depth. Don’t underestimate the effort needed to give a good overview.

Learning a new skill, or entering a new market, has risks attached. Innovating by using unproven materials has risks attached.

In all cases where we are trying something new, there are risks.

I’m aware of a builder who has taken on a new line of business (residential in addition to commercial), as well as building the new home out of innovative materials.

A council inspector came by today and picked up on a number of safety and regulation breaches.

Either this innovative builder learns from this experience, and gets better, or, he goes out of business. Either outcome is right.

I read an insightful comment about “value” today:

“Something cannot be valuable unless it can be lost”.

The comment, by structural engineer Peter Stanford, was on a forum related to a discussion about credentials; in particular, the intrinsic value of registration (of engineers in this case).

The insightful point is that to value it, registered engineers should lose that registration credential in certain circumstances.

It’s obvious when related to things - they have value (your bicycle, your diamond earrings, your no-claim insurance bonus). It’s not so obvious about skills or abilities. These are also valuable; they can also be lost.

Proof-reading is something any writer, of anything, in any context, should just do. It’s especially important in knowledge work. But any writing – be it emails, reports, technical specifications, letters to the editor, or comments against articles: they need to be proof-read.

The sole intent of proof-reading is finding errors.

And if you’re too close to it, it might be hard to find them.

A trick I’ve used for important documents and reports, is the ‘read aloud’ function available in MSWord. Hearing the text spoken aloud has picked up minor errors, which when fixed, make the reports all the more polished.