Archives for September 2022

A colleague shared a helpful idea about trade-offs when building software projects.

Out of three options, you can only pick two:

• date driven release
• feature driven release
• a high quality release

He states, “Apple classically is date driven and high quality. Key features take years to unfold. Many try & fail to hit all 3.”

The last part is the most interesting. I’ve seen teams refuse to choose their priorities and end up with a lukewarm product. This cascades into larger and longer term problems for a product, where the team eventually have to go back to fix past error, mistakes, or shortcuts.

It’s hard. But pick two.

Rest is needed before the breaking point.

Once past the breaking point, costly repairs are often required.

I’ve learned over the past few years to better identify when I need to rest, but there’s always the temptation to push a little more.

In these moments, I need to remind myself it’s okay to self select into rest, and that the benefit will be net positive in the long run.

The finish line and the gold medal only tell 0.01% of the story.

“Instant results” follow years of hard work.

I love the badges Transport for London gives to passengers.

One of them says, “Please offer me a seat,” and another for expecting mothers says, “Baby on board”.

The first is an excellent way for someone to communicate their need for a seat without having to reveal private or personal information. The second is a great way for soon-to-be mothers to guarantee they’ll have a seat on public transport if they want it.

I love seeing how people immediately recognise and vacate seats when someone with a badge hops aboard. It’s an example of a small design decision that is 1) universally recognised among London commuters, and 2) is an effective way to create a more inclusive public transport experience.

Does it have to be either or? Does it depend on the context? Could a balance of both spur on better performance?

I think a lot of folks spurn the idea of being motivated by fear. But in some instances, I think it can be a positive motivator.

Take public speaking, for example, the nerves in our stomach before the presentation can be harnessed to lift our energy to new levels.

I remember feeling all sorts of fear when the players on the opposing rugby or football teams looked bigger, faster, and stronger than me. But I could use that fear to shy away from the challenge, or to turn up in a new way.

Success is a better motivator, but a sprinkling of fear can lift our game.

I came across a stunning comparison the other day between commutes in London and San Francisco. The map below shows the distance one can travel in 90 minutes by public transport in both cities. The coverage in London is vast compared to San Francisco.

San Francisco needs to gets a bit of free pass because they have to navigate a large bay in a way that London doesn’t. However, the lack of public transport infrastructure and long commute times are a consistent theme I hear from friends and colleagues in San Francisco.

Great public transport infrastructure is one of those “plant a tree 30 years ago so you can sit in its shade today” type things.

More than the commutes of Londoners versus Northern Californians, this map communicates to me decisions made decades ago that still impact millions of people every day.

Always trying the recipe at least once before serving it to guests drastically improves the probably of putting on a good meal.

On the other hand, perhaps discovering new flavours with friends is what makes a good meal.

If you’re one way inclined, next time you’re hosting, why not try the other?

I once worked with someone who put “really really” before everything.

“This project is really really important.”

“We really really need to fix this problem.”

“We really really need to improve our processes.”

The thing about “really really” is if it’s used too much it really really loses its meaning.

Choose words carefully.

I once got pulled over by the police for riding my bike without a helmet. I was thirteen and was spooked by the burly man in uniform.

He asked me why I was riding without a helmet. I had no good answer. He warned me that if he caught me again, he’d give me a fine for $50—which felt like a fortune to me at the time!

From then on, I’ve always worn a helmet.

That’s why it strikes me when I see a huge percentage of Londoners cycling around without helmets. The risk/reward trade-off makes no sense in my mind.

When Maru and I are making decisions, we often find ourselves saying, “Why risk a lot to gain a little?”

There are tonnes of examples of this, but helmet habits are a good example!

Following on from yesterday’s post about uptime—and the more general theme of consistency, which I harp on about all the time—today’s post is about being ready for moments of peak stress.

After absolutely loving my first time at the Silverstone Formula 1 Grand Prix this year, I wanted to buy tickets for next year’s race.

Tickets came on sale last week, but their ticketing website had the resiliency of an inflatable dinghy in the face of a hurricane.

It was decimated.

I spent 6 hours “in the queue” and still didn’t get through to the ticketing website. They also chose this year to introduce “dynamic pricing” to cater for increased demand, meaning by the time I got through to the front of the queue, the prices were almost 30% higher than the original price.

The experience left such a sour taste in my mouth—not to mention the huge hole it would’ve left in my pocket—that I abandoned my cart.

The experience was no longer worth the money.

Silverstone prepare all year for the success of one event. It makes me wonder what’s the point when in the moment of peak stress you let thousands of people down?

Their error shows the value is doing the complete opposite.

My website was down yesterday.

It wouldn’t load.

I couldn’t post.

I jumped on Twitter to find that Bluehost—my web hosting provider—was down.

I calmly went to bed.

I knew Bluehost would sort it.

When you’re one of the best, your customers don’t fret at your first mistake in 3 years.

It’s an important reminder that the moments of peak stress are the ones that stick with our customers most, and that a lot of good work can be undone in an instant.

You can usually find me carrying round a backpack. I don’t like clutter in my pockets.

In addition to the usual suspects—phone, wallet, a book, and keys—I take some extra face masks, in-case-I-need-it medicine, and a pair of sunglasses.

However, over time a few other things end up making their way into my pack: a padlock for the gym lockers, an old copy of The Economist, or a folded sweater hidden at the bottom. I often forget to take these items out.

Eventually I realise I’ve been carrying around dead weight. Taking out those items makes my pack lighter, and makes any subsequent journey a little bit easier.

The backpack is easy to clean out, and the dead weight is noticed quite quickly.

Our minds, habits, and projects, on the other hand, those require a different kind of attention, thought, and care. The dead weight can mount quickly when the additions are imperceptible.

Whenever I buy avocados from the supermarket, Maru stops me from throwing out the pits.

She’s mastered making them sprout, and has populated our flat with avocado plants.

She attempts to germinate about 5-8 at a time, and often can be found giving them away to friends.

She has also started picking up decanters from antique shops to house the pits and their roots whilst the stem and leaves grow.

It’s a proper thing now.

If you want to give it a go, or know someone who would, the avocado vase is a great addition to your mantle piece or a nice gift!

Yvon Chouinard founded Patagonia in 1973 and has since grown it into a $3 billion brand.

Earlier this week, he announced, along with his wife and two adult children, the donation of Patagonia to a charitable trust. Any future profits not used to run the business will be dedicated to fighting climate change.

Their website now states: “Earth is now our only shareholder.”

What makes Chouinard’s decision stand out is he’s donating the company. Which is meaningfully different from an individual, like Bill Gates or Warren Buffett, donating their personal wealth.

I don’t anticipate this kind of thing happening often, because it requires a phenomenal, privately-held business with a great brand, margins, and shareholder agreement (i.e., 100% ownership) to make such a decision.

Nonetheless, it’s an inspiring move, and one that I’m sure will spur others to take action in their own way.

The moment a new process, system, software, or a plan is put in place, entropy sets in.

Without constant care, things descend into chaos.

But “everything is always broken,” is a liberating realisation.

The joy is in the work of making things better, of “unbreaking” things, of keeping the train on the rails.