Bringing something new into the world is a messy endeavour.
Glue gets everywhere. Pencils go blunt. Great material falls to the cutting room floor. Old plans end up as scrunched up paper sitting beside the waste bin—the result of a hasty shot.
If we push publish and we’re not left with some clean up to do, we probably took it too easy and could’ve given little more.
Some books you read immediately, and others sit on your self for a while. A few weeks, months, years even.
Shoe Dog is in the latter category for me. It’s often touted as a “must read” but it always fell into the I’ll-get-round-to-it-later category. But after watching ‘Air’ the other day, and seeing Ben Affleck’s portrayal of Nike’s eccentric founder, Phil Knight, I went straight to the shelf and started reading the book that night.
I wrote back in 2020 about what I called “right time resonance”, when some books aren’t right for us at a certain time, but are perfect for us at a later stage. That’s what’s happened with me and Shoe Dog.
Last night, Maru and I watched the recently released movie, Air, starring Ben Affleck and Matt Damon—that famous pair originating in Good Will Hunting.
It’s the story of how Nike won their sponsorship deal with Michael Jordan. Although it sounds like a bland story on the surface—a tale about a shoe deal—it’s filled with greater characters, like Viola Davis playing Jordan’s mother, as well as fascinating insights into what Nike was like before it become the global behemoth we know it to be today.
It’s also a massive feel-good film. It’s one of those stories where you know the ending already, but you’re enjoying the journey for all its twists, turns, and bumps along the way.
Throughout my career I’ve seen teams throw themselves at tough problems across a range of industries.
One of the hardest—and most valuable—activities is taking something complex and making it simple and easy to understand.
A good rule of thumb is “If we can’t understand it, no one else will”.
It applies to creating presentations for company leaders, the products and services we want to bring to market, or the plans we want our colleagues to buy in to.
Many people skip the “let’s make this simpler” step because it’s hard, because it takes a long time, and because it isn’t straight forward. But the investment almost always pays itself back with interest.
Here’s a way to improve the way we support and contribute to meetings: think “What’s the most impactful question I could ask right now?”
When we flip our default stance from answering to questioning, we make the conversation more open and curious. We more willing to entertain alternative ideas, and we create an environment where quieter voices can share their opinions.
I appreciated this reminder from Jason Fried, “You have a limited supply of yes, and an unlimited supply of no. Yet people act as if the opposites are true. Yes is easier to say, but no is easier to do.”
When we critically assess our finite supply of yes, it’s easy to spot a bunch of things we could’ve and should’ve said “no” to.
What would happen if we did this check on a more regular cadence? What time could we win back?
I really liked this diagram from Jade Rubick, a leading thinking on effective engineering teams.
The thing I like is that any team, even the most high performing ones, can look at this list and find at least one way they can become more trusting. It’s a powerful guide for running better teams and organisations.
In the UK, most flats have their own washing machine. Renters, in particular, end up with cheap, underpowered machines because there’s no incentive for a landlord to install a good one.
In the US—at least in the buildings I’ve stayed in—they usually have communal washer / dryers. Their laundry setups are powerful, fast, and do the job well.
This post isn’t about the nuances of UK and US washer / dryer combos though, but rather the trade-offs we encounter when optimising at different levels across different systems.
Unless everyone is using their “machine” all the time, it doesn’t make sense for people to have their own. The cumulative upfront and ongoing maintenance cost ends up being more than fewer, better machines used at a greater level of efficiency.
Over the past month, multiple people have described parks across both London and Buenos Aires as “lungs of the city”.
I love this metaphor. Parks provide a respite for residents, they lower the temperature of surrounding neighbourhoods, and they play an essential role in balancing and regulating the rhythms of people and air quality in a city.
They also great examples of long term thinking. Almost all of them could be sold for eye-watering sums for development, yet their persistence is evidence of their role in keeping a city healthy.
Written on a warm spring afternoon in Hampstead Heath.
There is a saying that you’re a Londoner when you don’t change your plans based on the weather.
Maru and I have friends visiting from out of town, and despite the today’s rain, we (mostly!) pressed on and put London on show.
Although it’s a phase associated with London, it’s filled with “let’s make the most of it” energy, and it’s an attitude that I want to take with me to other places and adventures.
King Charles III’s coronation is today. The streets are packed, the food is all coronation themed, and there’s no shortage of people with an opinion on the state and future of the monarchy.
It’s coinciding with the beginning of warmer weather and sun-filled evenings, a decision I’m sure was deliberate. London is thrumming with excitement, and it’s a joy to observe and experience.
That being said, I’m staying well clear of Buckingham Palace and downtown tomorrow.
I’ll enjoy the festivities from the parks close to home.
The noise is only going to get louder.
There will be more people demanding your attention, wanting you to buy from them, offering their opinion, and sharing their work with you. There will be no shortage of things trying to steal you away from what’s most important to you.
And once we realise that, we’re liberated to be judicious with our time. If we don’t decide how we want to spend it, and who we’re willing to listen to, someone else will decide for us.
One of the things that separate good and bad sports teams, at least at the amateur level, is how much they talk.
In poor teams, individuals will focus on their own game and not tell others what they are seeing, thinking, or going to do. When team members act alone, the team is disjointed.
In good teams, the chatter is relentless. People are constantly telling each other their positions on the field, warning team members about an incoming defender, letting others know they’re supported when making a move up the field.
And when we step into the realms of professional teams, great and constant communication is a baseline expectation. Every team does it.
It got me thinking about the teams I’ve worked with over the years, and how this same principle applies in the workplace. I’m not talking about mindless chatter, but direct, purposeful, clear communication. The stream of helpful updates is “relentless” in the best sense of the word.
“I’m sorry” is fine, but we can do better.
Better apologies come in three parts:
Numbers two and three demonstrate accountability and a willingness to right a wrong. Embedded within those is genuine remorse and a clear intention to improve.
There’s no shortage of people selling their recipes.
They may work for a cake, but they’re less likely to work for more complex things, like a career, love, or friendship. This is because their combination of support, talent, effort, and luck can’t be replicated.
Ray Dalio has a good model called “believability weighting” your decision making. In short, when taking advice from multiple people, we need to give more weight to people who’ve had the types of experiences that are most relevant for the decision in question. It sounds obvious, but it’s easy to forget.
Not everyone’s recipe will serve us, but by being vigilant and believability weighting our decisions, we can get better inputs for our decision making.