Clarity in thought precedes clarity in writing.
Clarity in writing cannot precede clarity in thought.
What’s on paper can only ever be as clear as what is first clear in the mind.
This is something I remind myself of often when the words just don’t feel right.
“A monument scale mechanical clock, built inside a mountain, designed to keep accurate time for the next ten millennia.”
That’s the description for The Clock of the Long Now. It’s a project by The Long Now Foundation, whose purpose is to inspire long term thinking.
A natural reaction to super-long-term projects like this is, “Why? There are so many urgent and important problems today. Why not spend money and resources on those instead?”
And that’s a fair comment.
But what I love about this project in particular is how it helps us—the ones who are alive now—connect with the future via a tangible touchpoint. It’s hard to picture what the world will look like in 100 years, let alone 10,000. So by imagining this clock, still ticking 5,000 years from now, in the depths of a mountain, suddenly we have a point of connection with the future. As we picture it ticking, we can ask what will people, the environment, and life be like then?
When long term to us feels like 5-10 years, a 10 millennia juxtaposition puts things into perspective.
It wasn’t until 1960 that Eugene Shoemaker proved some of the craters on Earth were a result of meteorite impacts rather than geological activity.
We accept this fact so readily today, yet it’s only been known—and proven—for 0.03% of the homo sapien existence.
It makes me wonder about the millions of things we’re yet to discover—and prove—about our planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe.
Here’s to future curiosity, patience, luck, and the scientific method (or whatever happens to supersede it!).
A brute force attack occurs when a hacker tries many passwords in the hope of eventually guessing correctly.
Interestingly, a 7-character password with numbers, upper, and lowercase letters can be cracked by a hacker in about 7 seconds.
Compare that with an 18-character password with numbers, symbols, upper, and lowercase letters, which would take 438 trillion years for a hacker to crack.
I certainly can’t remember different 18-character passwords for all my different online accounts, so for the last 5 years I’ve been using LastPass to automate all my password generation, storage, and management.
Many people still create and manage passwords the same way they did 15 years ago, whereas the sophistication of malicious actors has advanced lightyears since then. It may seem like overkill, but recovering hacked accounts is a headache I certainly don’t want to deal with.
I found the below graphic helpful in putting into context the importance of proper internet and account security.
In 1569, Gerardus Mercator created a revolutionary map—the map we see everywhere today. It was design primarily as a guide for nautical travel.
The problem is his map significantly inflated the size of Europe and North America. In the Mercator map, Canada and Russia occupy 25% of the earth’s surface, whereas in reality they only take up about 5%.
The image below puts the earth’s landmasses into proper proportion. Africa and South America remain largely the same size, but Europe and North America are significantly smaller.
Now imagine millions of children over the past 400 years growing up and seeing the Mercator map. What mental models did they form about the relative size, and therefore importance, of certain landmasses over others?
This is one example of how the images we pick, the words we choose, and the stories we tell, all have an impact on the way we see, turn up, and engage with the world.
Boundaries are only as good as their enforcement.
A game of football. Diet. Work life balance. Interest rates. Speed limits.
All have their own rules, limits, and boundaries.
If we make exceptions, we don’t get results. And at worst, it can be dangerous.
The boundary persistently broken is really no boundary at all.
Productivity is easy.
Squeeze in another task. Optimise the schedule. Plan, execute, repeat.
Presence is hard.
Be still. Hold no expectations. Create space for curiosity, joy, and wonder.
Realism > Expressionism > Blue Period > Rose Period > African Period > Cubism > Neoclassicism > Surrealism.
Picasso deliberately changed his style over and over and over.
Even at the height of his fame, Picasso eschewed the safe formula and committed to explore, reinvent, and take risk.
When there is nothing to lose, it’s easy to take the risk.
But when there is already a foundation of success, the courage to take the risk sets apart the good from the great.
Maru and I landed in Argentina yesterday. We’re here for a couple weeks to celebrate the wedding of close friends and to spend some time with family.
I can’t believe it’s been 8 years since my last visit. It would’ve been much sooner, but, you know, pandemic.
I love it here. The people, the food, the streets, the sun, and the songs on the radio. Not to mention the challenge of trying to improve my Spanish!
It’s always a joy visiting each other’s home country. The anecdotes are placed in context, special places are revisited, and new memories are made.
Both Tom Petty and Meat Loaf passed away within the past few years.
Whilst they were alive, I rarely paid attention to their music. But since they died, I’ve become a fan of both.
Tom Petty for his iconic melodies and chugging guitar. And Meat Loaf for his rock operas and eccentricity.
I can’t help but wonder: would I have become a fan if I had sat down for a deliberate listen whilst they were still alive? Or was it their deaths that put their music on my radar?
And does it even matter?
Part of the allure of modern music is the possibility of seeing your favourite songs performed live. And part of the romanticism of older music is how the record is all we have left of the magic.
Regardless of how we become fans, what matters is that we get there.
There’s something inexplicable—and uniquely human—about being moved by a melody.
I got gifted a cactus last year, but I accidentally threw out the instructions.
They’re hardy plants though, capable of surviving in the harshest of conditions.
Based on this tough-guy reputation, I assumed my cactus only needed a little bit of water every now and then.
Wrong.
Cacti need to be drenched. Soaked. Swimming!
But infrequently.
If I had paused for a moment, I may have figured it out: deserts rarely get rainfall, but when they do, it’s heavy.
Many things seem obvious in hindsight.
It also pays to hold on to instructions.
If you feel like your inbox has a habit of growing from a small hill into an unassailable mountain, then this may be the trick you need.
Three sentences is permission to treat your email like you would an SMS. Simply limit your reply to three sentences or less.
Focus on only communicating the most important information. Do away with the formalities. Don’t fear coming across as brusque; people will come to respect it.
This is just another opportunity and example of letting self-improved constraints work their magic.
It’s that time again: I see a stunning chart from Our World in Data, and I just have to share it.
Humans on the planet today account for 7% of all humans who have ever existed.
And half of all humans were born in A.D., even though A.D. only accounts for a small part of our long history.
This chart also puts into context the immense impact the agricultural revolution had on our ability to survive and grow as a species.
Although we’ve been around for a long time, we’re living in an unprecedented and extremely special time.
When we think a piece of writing is finished, it rarely is.
It can always be shorter.
Clearer.
Punchier.
So give it a day.
Allow it some time to breathe.
Come back the next day, and have another go at making it better.
Maru and I are visiting friends in Oxford this weekend, and we just finished one of Uncomfortable Oxford’s walking tours.
Uncomfortable Oxford is a social enterprise run by students. They offer a range of walking tours highlighting the darker parts of the city and university’s history. They put the buildings, landmarks, and stories into context, and encourage a level of reflection and discussion from participants that I haven’t experienced on other tours.
They covered everything from the controversial history of Cecil Rhodes, the slave money behind one of the most prestigious colleges, and the challenging experiences of some of the first women and minorities admitted to the university.
I like their commitment to helping the public—students, locals, and tourists alike—have open, engaging, and thought provoking conservations about these uncomfortable histories.
We need more of this!