Dan Cullum

Every few months, I discover a niche online project that really impresses me, so much so that I feel compelled to share it.

My most recent find is The Food Timeline. Lynne Olver, a food history librarian, started this online reference guide in 1999, cataloging and categorising the discovery and evolution of foods and recipes over the past 20,000 years.

I enjoyed scrolling the timeline and getting lost in a food history rabbit hole.

I didn’t know the first versions of ice cream were a type of shaved, flavoured ice first invented in China in 3,000 BC, or that cheesecake has been around since the 1st Century AD, or that food historians don’t really know when and where coconuts originated.

I’m about to go on a trip to the supermarket, and although it’s a run-of-the-mill activity, after hanging out on The Food Timeline, it’s really got me thinking about how far we’ve come.

As a fitting follow on from yesterday’s post, Russell shared this helpful idea with me earlier this week.

The story goes that poet William Stafford—who wrote more than 20,000 poems in his lifetime—was one asked if he ever got writer’s block.

He replied, “No, I’ve never experienced anything like that. I believe that the so-called “writing block” is a product of some kind of disproportion between your standards and your performance. I can imagine a person beginning to feel that he’s not able to write up to that standard he imagines the world has set for him. But to me that’s surrealistic. The only standard I can rationally have is the standard I’m meeting right now. Of course I can write. Anybody can write. People might think that their product is not worthy of the person they assume they are. But it is.”

Stafford’s advice was simply: lower your standards and keep writing.

As someone who has committed to writing publicly every day, and on the odd occasion feels the “so-called writing block”, it’s a great reminder on a personal level.

It’s an idea that also brings to mind Lynda Barry’s Making Comics: how to draw without expectations about how it should look. And Patricia Ryan Madson’s Improv Wisdom: on how lessons from improv theatre can help us live a more open and joyous life.

The tag line from Madson’s book sums it up well: Don’t prepare, just show up.

My friend Russell published a book, and I got my copy in the mail today!

The title is great: Everything I Know about Life I Learned from PowerPoint.

It’s an ode to that piece of software “we hate to love”.

It starts with how PowerPoint saved Russell’s life. Russell is shy, but PowerPoint enabled him to enjoy being on stage and presenting. This helped him “defeat shyness” and have a successful career in advertising working for the likes of Nike, Honda, Microsoft, and Apple.

He then turns to how PowerPoint is used, powerfully I might add, in almost every corner of the globe. And finally, it ends with “reassurance” on how PowerPoint is actually easy, and shares some advice on how to use it well.

Russell has a way with words, both written and spoken. He never uses jargon, and that’s refreshing. It was a privilege to learn from him when I was working at Bulb, and I’m really looking forward to chuckling away as I digest this book!

Congrats, Russell!

“It is said that the best horses lose when they compete with slower ones and win against better rivals. Undercompensation from the absence of a stressor, absence of challenge, degrades the best of the best.” – Nassim Nicholas Taleb

This was a nice reminder that there’s a time to sprint, and a time to rest.

But when we sprint, and if we want to grow, we should find the fiercest challenge around. The absence of a stressor is dangerous.

Whenever I’ve tried standing desks, I’ve always ended up giving up due to discomfort.

I get lost in what I’m doing and end up slumping or leaning to one side. This puts excess strain on my hips, and my knees take a hyperextended pounding.

That is until my friend Dave told me about wobble boards.

They are circular pieces of wood with a ball at the bottom. When you stand on the board, you need to keep your legs and core engaged to be able to balance effectively.

I bought one, and now I’m able to “standing desk” all day without pain or discomfort. It’s also great for a fidgeter like me as it’s something for my subconscious to focus on to help me listen more actively in meetings.

I realised today that over the past few years I’ve become a big fan of most things ‘direct’.

Direct communication. I’m not a fan of beating about the bush anymore.

Direct flights. Layovers to save money are rarely worth the lost time and inconvenience.

Direct to Consumer businesses. I love the accountability, service, and products from these companies. Ace and Tate’s glasses, Harry’s razors, Eve’s mattresses, All Birds shoes, and Grenade’s protein bars.

The presence of the word ‘direct’ changes the meaning of these concepts, and it makes them all better.

Founder of Product Hunt, Ryan Hoover, shared a passage from the book ‘The Courage to be Disliked’, and it struck a chord.

“I have a young friend who dreams of becoming a novelist, but he never seems to be able to complete his work. According to him, his job keeps him too busy and he can never find enough time to write novels, and that’s why he can’t complete his work and enter it for writing awards. But is that the real reason? No! It’s actually that he wants to leave the possibility of “I can do it if I try” open, by not committing to anything. He doesn’t want to expose his work to criticism, and he certainly doesn’t want to face the reality that he might produce an inferior piece of writing and face rejection. He want to live inside that realm of possibilities, where he can say that he could do it if he only had the time, or that he could write if he just had the proper environment, and that he really does have the talent for it. In another five or ten years, he will probably start using other excuses like “I’m not young anymore” or “I’ve got a family to think about now.”

It got me thinking: What dreams do I really want to pursue? Where am I choosing to “live inside a realm of possibilities”? And what am I going to do about it if I encounter an answer I don’t like?

In a post from a couple days ago I made a few comments on what the future could look like.

It got me thinking more about prediction vs. direction.

Predicting the future is really hard—particularly the precision part.

But when making our plans, predicting is less important than knowing the direction of travel.

There are clues as to where the world is moving. We may not know the coordinates for longitude or latitude, but knowing that it’s better to travel east than west, or north rather than south, may be all that’s needed to choose the right next step.

Since my post on Factorio, I’ve been getting back into real-time strategy (RTS) games. I’m enjoying learning how to play a classic: Starcraft II—a military science fiction game.

There are two critical things you need to be able to do in RTS games: 1) build and manage an economy, and 2) devise a way to beat your opponent. It’s just like chess, but with dozens of moves per minute, and with both players moves being made simultaneously.

One lesson I’ve learnt is I can “work hard” and apply the same strategy game after game, but until I ask, “Are there better approaches? Are there better ways to solve this? Are there more efficient ways forward?” I’m destined to remain at the same level.

Constantly asking how I can improve is essential to progressing, in games and in life.

I was talking with a friend recently about how most kids today have no idea what a landline phone is—or that it was the primary form of communication 30 years ago.

It got me thinking about what’s going to sound weird for kids 30-50 years from now (i.e., my grandkids).

They’ll probably think it was crazy how we used to drive cars and risk our lives every time we did so.

They’ll likely think its weird how we used to spend hours each day interacting with these little devices with 5 inches screens, instead of using our glasses, headsets, or contact lenses.

They’ll find it strange that we used to be a single-planet species.

It may feel like a distant future, but I think it’s going to arrive much faster and sooner than we expect.

My back tire gave out recently on my beloved Brompton bicycle.

I then realised it was 2 years overdue for a service. Oops!

But I was busy at work, worried about the cost of the replacement, and unsure which bicycle shop would provide the best service, so I procrastinated.

For 3 weeks, I used city bike shares and the Underground, but after getting frustrated at my lack of mobility and flexibility, I eventually booked an appointment to get my bike fixed.

The experience was much faster, easier, and cheaper than I expected. My fears and worries were proven unfounded.

I then asked myself: Why did I procrastinate for so long? Why did I deal with 3 weeks of subpar transportation when I could’ve got the problem solved much sooner?

From now on, I’m going to try be on the front foot with maintenance—and not just with my bike!

Although it started back in 1996, I only discovered Long Bets today, and I think the concept is awesome.

“Long Bets is a public arena for enjoyably competitive predictions, of interest to society, with philanthropic money at stake.”

Academics and thought leaders, as well as anyone on the internet, are invited to make bets on the future, with the money won being donated to charity.

What I love about it is the public nature of each bet, and how money given to a philanthropic cause adds necessary jeopardy — without money, it’s just opinions.

Here are some of my favourite bets:

By 2035 there will be at least 10 people living on Mars for a period of more than 2 months (time period: 2020 – 2035; ).

At least one human alive in the year 2000 will still be alive in 2150 (time period: 2002-2150).

A bitcoin will be worth less than $1000US by the end of 2025 (time period: 2020-2025) – I find it hard to see this one coming true.

I wrote last month about New Zealand’s weird lottery system for citizens trying to get back into the country—each person has a roughly 10:1 shot at getting a spot in a Managed Isolation and Quarantine facility.

Well, I have good news: I got a spot!

Come December, I’ll be heading to New Zealand and I’ll be seeing my family for the first time in 2 years—it feels crazy just typing it!

The timing couldn’t be more perfect either: I’ll get out of the quarantine facility just a few days before Christmas.

I recognise how lucky I am; especially since more than 30,000 New Zealand citizens are still trying to find a way home. But I’m counting my blessings and will certainly make the visit count!

The vaccination rates in the United Kingdom and New Zealand are now very similar; with double vaccinations sitting at 65% and 67% respectively.

Yet the COVID measures in place in each country are still wildly different.

In the UK, there are practically no restrictions. There are no quarantines, mask mandates, vaccine passports, and no restrictions on the freedom of movement.

In New Zealand, the opposite is true (at least in some way shape or form) for all of the above.

I was discussing this with a friend over the weekend and the idea of societal tolerance came up: how willing are people in a given country to comply with the rules set out by their governments?

Perhaps it’s due to COVID fatigue, but having seen the UK live without restrictions for the better part of 6 months, it’s inconceivable to think of this country going back into to any sort of lockdown.

Whereas in New Zealand, a slow and cautious rollout seems to be the only thing on the roadmap ahead.

There are a few behavioural economists that read this blog, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, as I certainly have more questions than I do answers.

Daylight savings ended last night in the UK—the clocks went back by 1 hour.

This used to be something I worried about when I had weekend shifts at the local movie theatre during high school.

However, this morning I realised my daily post hadn’t been emailed out.

After some debugging, I realised the UK wound its clocks back shortly before my post was due to be sent. I think my post got “lost” as the clocks changed.

So I sent out a manual campaign, no big deal.

But today’s hiccup served as a reminder of the importance of systems and automated checks to make sure things work as they should.

Of course, if my daily post doesn’t go out for one day, that isn’t a big issue, but there are products and services that depend on everything always working. The electricity network, food supply chains, and public transport to name a few.

It’s food for thought.