Archives for March 2020

All the data suggests coronavirus is going to significantly impact our lives over the next 3-6 months.

I hope this will mostly be in the form of social distancing—or extended periods of time spent at home and indoors.

This leads me to a question: what should I do with this blog?

I started writing as a way to reflect on my daily observations and learnings. So if I stick to form, my reflections on coronavirus will appear in a lot in these posts.

But I know we’re all being bombarded with virus news and opinions. And I have a feeling that some of you don’t want yet another voice spouting on about the pandemic; especially one that isn’t an expert’s opinion.

An alternative would be to share more of what I’m reading and learning about—which I’m deliberately keeping away from coronavirus topics. But that also feels a little trivial considering what were collectively up against.

The great thing is I can ask for you opinion.

When you think about these daily posts, what would you like to see from me as this whole thing unfolds?

I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

In 2018, I learnt about Jeff Bezos’ classification of decisions into two types: Type 1, and Type 2.

A Type 1 decision is a big, strategic decision that is hard to turn back from—think of it like a one way door. An example of this could be quitting your job to start a business.

Whereas a Type 2 decision is an everyday operating decision; these are typically reversible. An example of this could be trying a new way to plan upcoming projects with your team.

This classification has transformed the way I make decisions in the workplace and at home.

Perhaps the biggest mindset shift is the realisation that most decisions are Type 2, meaning they have far less importance than we often place upon them.

This is liberating.

If we can understand if a decision is Type 2, it allows us to experiment, to be bold, and to try, when maybe we wouldn’t have had the confidence to do so otherwise.

The violin requires precision. Your fingers need to be in exactly the right place to hit the right note. Even the slightest deviation will see you veer off key.

Whereas a guitar has frets, which are little metal bars that sit on its neck. As long as a guitarists fingers land between one fret and another, the string will connect with the fret, and the note will be accurate.

One isn’t better or worse than the other; they’re simply playing different games.

Although violin can lead an orchestra with its melodies, the guitar can put together rich chords using all 6-strings at once.

Sometimes we lament what we can and can’t do.

Maybe we’re just made to play a different song.

Our world’s coronavirus situation has changed dramatically in the last 48 hours.

You’ll have read the news—or at least you’ll have access to it—so there’s no need for me to rehash that information here.

However, there is one thing I’d like to focus on today: why you should practise social distancing, and why you should see it as a duty, not an option.

What is social distancing?

I like the way a doctor of a major hospital in Italy described it in Newsweek Magazine, “My personal as well as professional view: we all have a duty to stay put, except for very special reasons, like, you go to work because you work in healthcare, or you have to save a life and bring someone to hospital, or go out to shop for food so you can survive. But when we get to this stage of a pandemic, it’s really important not to spread the bug. The only thing that helps is social restriction.”

Why is it important?

When someone catches coronavirus, they will likely only feel mild symptoms, but 15-20% of the population will need hospitalisation, and 5% of the population will need ICU treatment.

Our global healthcare infrastructure is not equipped to deal with such a large volume of patients. Thus, we need to minimise the number of people with the disease at any one point in time so our hospitals and brave healthcare workers don’t break.

This article, written by the doctor mentioned above, sets out the logic of why staying at home—and thereby reducing the spread of coronavirus—is so important for all of us to do.

Why do some people think social distancing = overreacting?

As Nassim Nicholas Taleb puts it, social distancing is rational at a systemic level (i.e., at a country or global level), but irrational at an individual level (e.g., a young healthy 40 year old with no pre-existing conditions).

Most people in the population will be mildly impacted by coronavirus. That’s why it feels weird for some to be taking these precautions.

Why do I care about it?

I have family members who fall into the at risk categories.

Almost all of us do, or at least know someone who does.

Don’t do it for you, do it for them.

P.S. If you’re look for an excellent data driven perspective on coronavirus, the logic behind social distancing, and what’s likely to come, this article is excellent.

Some days, the world moves a little faster than we can handle.

And that’s okay.

Life becomes easier when we realise the expectation to “keep up” is self-imposed.

It’s okay to move at your own pace.

If you’re going to play devil’s advocate, do it properly.

Playing devil’s advocate is expressing an opinion you may not agree with but is different to what other people have been saying, to challenge the thinking of the group.

The true power of the tool is to help us think differently.

However, its power is lost when we use it to introduce our own point of view rather than improve the group’s perspective on a topic.

You don’t need to do anything spectacular, you just need to be in the game.

We’ve got these succulents in our bathroom, and although we’ve never given them special attention, they’ve grown from tiny things into roaring beasts.

Each day, they’re inadvertently watered with a small amount of shower mist, and they get a brief peak at the sun through the obscured glass window.

Simply being in a game is a loose thread that deserves a good tugging; who knows, it may unravel and take you to amazing places.

When I was 8 years old, my Sunday School teacher, Rick, shared a story that I’ll never forget.

The moral—I’m sure—was for children to obey their parents, but all I can remember is the rice pudding.

It started with Rick’s mother placing the pudding atop the fridge. She gave him a strict command, “The dessert is for after dinner. Do not touch it beforehand.”

But as the afternoon crept on, Rick’s hunger grew. He would pull up a chair to the fridge, stand on it, and peak under the tea towel at the creamy, sticky, sweet pudding.

“Just one spoonful,” he thought, “one bite can’t hurt.”

But soon after, the entire pudding was gone. He’d eaten all of it.

Rick got in trouble, learnt a lesson, yada yada… but what imprinted on me was how life-changing this thing called “rice pudding” sounded.

I’d never heard of it before; let alone tasted it.

The way Rick described it—how no other cake, muffin, or slice could ever compare—had me pleading my mum for us to make some.

Fast forward to today, and I get weird stares from everyone in the group when I order rice pudding at a restaurant.

“Why would you order rice pudding? It’s so bland,” I often hear.

But they weren’t there. They didn’t hear Rick’s story. Their perceptions weren’t inevitably and irrevocably changed.

That’s the power of a description, the power of a memory, the power of a story.

One year ago today, I proposed to Maru.

Spoiler alert, she said yes!

Implicit in my question, “Will you marry me?” was my commitment to making her the most important woman in my life; so I love that our engagement day also coincides with International Women’s Day.

We get to celebrate a milestone, and we get to celebrate her.

Maru and I have come a long way since meeting in London back in 2010. During that time, we spent 4 years doing long distance, and have cumulatively lived in 5 different countries.

And in a little over a month, we’ll be married.

We’re buzzing with excitement, but we’d be lying if we said that we weren’t a little concerned about coronavirus.

Although we’re keeping track of how things progress with our wedding in mind, we know this virus has much greater challenges for those with family members affected by it.

It’s safe to say our perspective has changed a lot in a short period of time. A month ago we were worrying about catering options, now we just want to make sure our friends and family are safe and healthy.

Regardless of how things unfold, I’m taking pause today to be grateful for Maru, and consciously remember there’s no one I’d rather do life with.

I looked across the aisle on the train today and saw a man wearing an Oxford shirt with a Ralph Lauren overcoat. He had perfectly styled hair and spotless shoes.

It was then I noticed the heavy metal music blaring from his headphones. Everyone around him could hear the pounding drums and guitar solo too.

This moment helped remind me that people are not always what they seem. Assumptions are just that, they assume something to be true, but they rarely map to the real world.

And thank goodness for that. We are better and richer for each of our differences.

Now, when I see someone in a suit, I wonder if they’re listening to punk rock. Or when I see a dude covered in tattoos, I wonder if they’re singing along to show tunes.

Who knows, maybe they’re just not playing their music loud enough.

I recently needed to send my passport overseas.

I ended up going with FedEx, and the whole experience reminded of the project management trade-off that I’ve written about before.

Out of the three options (Speed, Quality, and Price), you only get to choose two.

With FedEx, they don’t have slow shipping. By doing this, they say “no” to most of the market. But if you need to get something from A to B in record time, that’s their game.

They also are known for their reliability. They make sure your things get delivered.

FedEx self-select into Speed and Quality. You just need to decide if you’re going to pay.

I wonder how many other businesses would be better off being as explicit as FedEx, instead of trying to be all things to all people.

Uber’s electric bikes stand out. They are bright orange.

However, I wonder if their designers thought deeply about what their bikes would look like strewn about a city.

It’s a double-edged sword.

It’s bike backlash.

My mum recently reached the milestone of working 30 years for the same company; a bank in New Zealand.

She arrived in New Zealand as an immigrant. She was far from family, newly married, and had no experience in banking or finance.

Her first job was making tea and coffee for the managers, and welcoming each customer at the front door with a smile. Her world and work couldn’t be more different today.

But despite her humble beginnings, over the last 30 years I’ve never heard her complain about her job. She speaks only with gratitude.

She’s my definition of persistence, patience, and tolerance.

Much of who I am today is down to her and my Dad’s willingness to sacrifice their own comfort to give me the opportunities they never had.

Here’s to you, Mum!

I’ve received a few responses from readers on the idea of aiming to be the hardest person in the room to offend.

My friend, Dan, offered a quote by Robert Frost to compliment this idea:

“Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.”

I liked this. The only way we get better is to receive feedback—or views contrary to our own—with an open mind, with tolerance, with confidence, and decide for ourselves what is true.

We all have chores we don’t like.

In our house, it’s the dishes.

I’ve found that “little and often” is a good way to make dish washing—and general habit keeping—a little bit easier.

We work little by little, rather than let things pile up.

I feel better after exercising everyday for shorter durations, rather than less frequent, longer sessions.

And we all have those admin tasks at work that take us away from focusing on our biggest challenges. Bunching these tasks together at the end of each day—and also completing them each day—can keep our heads clear.