The energy transition is now, I think, simply too big to fail. I also think there are more local and impactful changes that should be highlighted in the short term.

Announcements about massive projects make me uncomfortable due to the enormity of the required new stuff for the transition. I’d rather we spend effort and money on improving what we already have.

I recently heard the statement ‘waste is a design fault’, and I like that. Rather than building a whole new energy system (with its incumbent waste), just quietly, I’d rather we make the one we have more circular.

For most of my working career, when a meeting was over, it was over, and only in the memory remained.

In the meeting, you talked and participated, sometimes you said things that were brilliant and insightful, sometimes you said something embarrassing or wrong. Sometimes you’d have a heated argument. And when the meeting was over, you moved onto the next activity.

Now, meetings are often recorded. Now, something you said is re-watchable. Now, it’s possible for someone who was not in the meeting to watch it later.

Recorded meetings: now that’s a lot of (boring) data being stored for later.

I’m a bit of a stickler around spelling, and yes, I’m one who notices others’ spelling errors.

Sorry, not sorry.

But I keep it to myself, when it doesn’t matter. I know not everyone is as fussed about correct spelling as I am.

Meanwhile, my ego thanks you for not calling me out on a recent 100words where I incorrectly spelled ‘curiousity’. It’s one of those words I assumed includes the ‘u’, like neighbour and honour (for those of us not in America).

I have left the mistake there for posterity. And proof that even sticklers get it wrong sometimes.

I recently started on a project that is turning out to be more complicated than anticipated.

When I realised that, I went back through my emails and focussed on the people. The people who’d been emailing me. The people I’d been talking to. The people who’d been in the meetings.

I worked out who they are, what concerned them, and, most importantly, how I can help them.

I usually dive into documentation and start reading. This time I dove into the people and started talking.

It’s been a great turnaround on how in control I feel on this project now.

When you’re in the state of not quite knowing what exactly lights your fire, it’s difficult to take the oft-given advice of “follow your passion”. And besides, if you know what you’re passionate about, you probably don’t need to be told to follow it.

The other, and better, approach is to go with figuring out what you’re curious about. There are many things that interest me, and I’m curious about them. Not “passionate” about them (i.e., endurance events, ethics, the energy transition).

When something pops up that makes you curious, dive deeper. Pay attention to what you pay attention to.

This quote (or philosophy) was aimed at the education system, but I think it applies to career development as well:

“The mind is not a vessel that needs filling, but wood that needs igniting”.

So, when we’re studying something new, or learning a new process, or faced with change, take the approach of ignition instead of filling.

Don’t just fill your mind (or others’ minds) with more information and data and explanations and reasons and words. Rather, look for ways to light the mind like a fire. Inspiration and creativity and insights about new things come from ignition, not overload.

On the “Business of Authority” podcast recently, there was an insightful conversation differentiating between being a “contributor” or a “guru”.

The encouragement was to shift your mindset from “I must be a guru expert” to “I want to contribute to the conversation”.

I think this is a healthy and useful shift in thinking.

It might be a little incongruous perhaps. But approaching knowledge work from a helping viewpoint is very valuable. Showing up as the “I-know-it-all-and-I’m-the-best-just-ask-me” expert can be off-putting. Demonstrate your expertise by doing good work, not just talking about it. This is especially true in a collaborative environment.

I’ve learned a new word and concept just recently: we are all part of the ‘polis’.

It literally means “city” in Greek, but the context is more interesting than that.

It’s an ancient word that invokes a togetherness. And it is (or might be) the foundation for words like politics, police, policy and polite. These are important concepts and ‘ways-of-society’ that, when working well, make for a great society.

The polis is a little wonky right now, I must say. What we can all work on is the concept of being polite; it’s one thing we have some control over.

During the summer months in Brisbane, I put my mental clock ahead an hour, matching the southern states that go on daylight savings.

So my 5am alarm in Brisbane is equated with “but it’s already 6am in Sydney”. And 6am doesn’t seem as ‘early’ as 5am.

The sun is in the same spot in the sky, whether my clock says 5am or 6am. It doesn’t care.

Though it’s awkward at the other end of the day. Dinner at 6pm isn’t very social, even though in my mind it’s 7pm which is quite reasonable.

Like I said, it’s all an illusion.

Today marks 100 years since the inception of Standards Australia.

“Standards”, not just published ones, are an integrated, inseparable part of my life, from contextual and behavioural, to conceptually around their purpose, and down into the weeds of getting the actual standards wording right.

Contextually, standards are a measure, norm, or model for comparative evaluation. Conceptually, standards are an agreed way of doing something, applying to behaviours, technical requirements, administrative processes, or professional or ethical standards. In the weeds with the words is the challenging best bit.

Congratulations and thanks Standards Australia, for being a home for this standards enthusiast.

There’s a paradigm difference between schooling-based credentials (i.e. engineering degree) and creative-based expertise (artistic or sporting pursuits).

With artistic or sporting endeavours, there’s an understanding, almost an expectation, that there will be coaching throughout the career, in order to improve and learn. Voice coaches, acting coaches, obviously sports coaches: ongoing learning guidance.

With schooling-based credentials, particularly procedural degrees like engineering, you’re on your own for ongoing self-learning through your career. Just figure it out, right?

This is a flaw in the development of our procedural/technical experts. The ‘figure it out’ approach should rather be by targeted coaching and/or group learning.

In a recent Work/Life podcast, Adam Grant interviewed a free climber about how he faces the fear of such a risky hobby. But I think he missed the mark.

The answer to, “how do you face the fear?”, was too simple: “Do your best, take a deep breath and go for it”.

What he didn’t say is things like: learn your craft, practise, study the experts, research what you don’t know, admit when you’re outside your comfort zone, put in the time to get good.

Deep breathing doesn’t help if you don’t know enough about it in the first place.

Achievement is somewhat is ‘scientific’, or measurable. We kind of know if we’ve achieved something.

Fulfillment is more of an art. Defining living a ‘fulfilled’ life is less exact.

It’s also true that many with significant achievements, may not be all that fulfilled.

I’m borrowing from several people with this one. Variously Tony Robbins, Matt Church and Marie Forleo have addressed the difference between “achievement” and “fulfillment”.

Consider your position on the science of achievement and the art of fulfillment. Noting, though, it’s hard to be fulfilled if you haven’t achieved. But recognise that achieving doesn’t always equate to fulfilled.

The other day, I walked past a house where the security alarm was ringing.

There was a car in the driveway, and I could see movement in the house. I walked past without stopping. And even now I’m still now wondering if I did the right thing.

I justified walking past because there were neighbouring houses with lights on, better equipped to help. I’d probably be no help, and worse, might even put myself in a dangerous situation.

But that’s exactly the thing with alarms: we collectively, mostly, ignore them. But I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.

It is Epictetus who said there are two states to consider every day: persist and resist.

Every day, all the time, we are either persisting at something, or resisting something else.

Persist at writing or providing feedback on that report. Resist checking social media, again.

Persist at allocating enough time to work deeply on something. Resist working very long hours.

We should alternatively exhort and restrain ourselves.

Get out there and socialise, but get home early enough for a good night’s sleep.

I guess the challenge is knowing when to persist, and when to resist. That’s where success is found.

There’s a plethora of announcements out there, advising the enormous amount of money being committed to be “spent on” …something. My interest is of course the amount of “investment” being “spent on” the energy transition.

It brings to mind some logical questions next: what exactly is the money being spent on; who gets all that money; where does it all go?

I’d like to see a pie chart showing the distribution of all that money. I guess I’m hoping it’s not mostly going to studies, reports, and advisors. I’d rather it mostly be going to tradespeople, labourers, makers, and repairers.

I spent the weekend in a reverie of memories. It was on October 1st, twenty-five years ago that I arrived in Brisbane, to be a pipeline engineer on the PNG-to-QLD pipeline. Remember that failed project, anyone?

Memories: Jimmy’s on the Mall, Story Bridge Hotel, my apartment block on Thorn Street.

Whenever I look back into the past, I also force myself to look ahead the same timescale.

Interestingly, these places aren’t that different 25 years later.

It’s possible the locals we now go today will be mostly similar in 2047. Maybe places don’t change that much, but people really do?

Anyone with a uniquely spelled name will commiserate with me here. I’ve just had the experience where the communications department of a large organisation proudly let me know that they’d posted an amazing article about me, and that I should start sharing it around.

As often happens, my surname in the article was spelled the more popular way of Jacques not Jaques.

It’s tricky to handle this situation. Because I’m quick to correct, that probably makes me seem intense, sensitive, or even rude.

But I don’t mean to be rude, and I’m not actually angry; it’s just important to me.

“Your work matters. Build your schedule accordingly”.

That’s yet another clever comment by one of my favourite productivity experts, Cal Newport.

In other words, schedule time to do your knowledge work. You have a job based on the using of your knowledge, skills and experience. Set aside time to use those competencies.

And yet, we spend so much time writing emails and ‘trying to keep up’, and responding reactively to all the emails coming in.

It does require some selfishness. It means proactively scheduling blocks of time to do one thing at a time. That’s how good work gets done.

There’s a lovely buzz in the air these days reflecting this particular moment in time that we are re-gathering in.

I’m trying to identify what motivates a team, group, or gathering of people who choose to (and pay to) spend time with each other. (Through to the early hours of the morning no less, ahem, colleagues out there you know who you are).

I’ll go with camaraderie. The definition is “mutual trust and friendship among people who spend a lot of time together.” The synonyms are inspiring: companionship, togetherness, conviviality. I wonder if we could work in permanent conference mode.