My nephew has his A-level results due tomorrow. Three A's and he gets to go to Sheffield to study History. Back-up is Queen Mary College.
The photographers won't be taking pictures of him getting his results at the local FE College. They will be snapping the germ-free fruity eighteen-year olds at whichever Girls' School has let them in this year. And the Daily Telegraph will run the photos on the front page. Call it Fruity Thursday.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Monday, 16 August 2010
Do it with style
Any athlete will tell you that the better your style, the less effort you make for the same result. "Less weight, more style" is a familiar comment from a trainer in a weights room.
Style is not flourishes and flair, it isn’t a gestures and mannerisms. It’s not tricks. Style is doing it smoothly, quickly, efficiently, neatly, with a minimum of fuss, bother and clattering about. It’s also about catching the informed eye, with an understated something special.
You have to practice when the other kids are watching the latest hit TV show or having a great lads or lassies night out; you have to want to be good, not to impress the girls or the boss, but to satisfy yourself. You have to give up fantasising and live in the horrible here-and-now of your actual skills.
The original Zephyr skateboard team surfing and skating every hour they could; Eric Clapton practicing the blues eight hours a day before he was twenty; Kernighan and Ritchie developing the C programming language and showing the world what the phrase "tight code" really meant; fashion designers from Armani to Zoran obsessing over cut, colour and fabric; and every world-class athlete practising every day for hours… face it, style is just geeky.
You have to have taste as well, or you can’t recognise someone else’s good style and learn (or steal) from it. Taste is all a bit tricky: who says my judgement is better than yours? It takes humility to develop taste and it takes knowledge to exercise informed discrimination.
Once you shoot for style, you’re putting your work up to be judged and yourself as a craftsman up for judgement as well. That’s a tough one – especially when there were a hundred kids at university better than you.
That understated something special is going to pass the hoi-polloi right by. Style is for the cognoscenti. It’s undemocratic and elitist. Get over it. The pay-off is that you do more with less effort. Your work shines. You get into heaven because you chose to use the talent and ability you were born with. You get to be a person with an identity because you identified with something enough to be good at it.
Friday, 13 August 2010
Who's a Stakeholder?
I've just finished a two-day course on managing stakeholders run by The Bank - another of its non-prescriptive what-does-it-mean-to-you exercises. The idea of "stakeholders" was introduced in 1963 by the Stanford Research Institute and defined to be "those groups without whom the organisation would cease to exist". It's one of those ideas that works as long as you don't get too close to it. What it can't mean is "anyone who has an interest in what the organisation does", because if the organisation is big enough, that's just about everybody and the idea becomes just about empty.
I'm going to jump to my conclusion here: a stakeholder is anyone who has a legal, economic or other substantial relationship with you or your project and stands to have their life made worse if your project fails. Take the idea of "worse" seriously here. Employees are stakeholders because if the firm fails, they lose their jobs. Customers are sometimes stakeholders, such as when they are holidaymakers with a tour operator (what happens when the operator goes broke?), and sometimes not, if all they buy is a chocolate bar. Not being able to have your favourite chocolate bar does not make your life worse, though it may make it a little less sweet. Some patients in a hospital are stakeholders (if they are in for life-saving operations) and sometimes not (if they are in for cosmetic surgery). We are all, however, stakeholders in the Water and Sewage company - you want to think about how much worse your life is going to get without potable running water and with blocked sewers? Some things don't have any stakeholders at all - like the local car boot sale or the next episode of some cheap reality TV show.
Within a company, who are your stakeholders? Your Line Manager, who will get their ass kicked if you screw up. Maybe their boss as well. How about the people who do the work? If your project fails, what happens to them? Not much, unless they were hired specifically to work on the project and are fired if it's not there anymore. The full-timers still have jobs: failed projects make work for the working man to do as much as successful ones. There may be people waiting for you to finish your project so they can do theirs, but if you fail, they will find another way of getting started. Their lives are a little more difficult, but "more difficult" does not mean "worse". So not them. The suppliers are happy-ish because they still got paid for all that stuff that no-one is going to use now. They may have to find another customer to replace the business the successful project would have given them, but having to find new business doesn't make their life worse, just a little more difficult. If the project was going to provide many new jobs to the area, those people who now won't have those jobs and can't find others, they turn our to be stakeholders.
So what are all the other people who are working on the project and / or looking forward to its success, but whose lives won't end if it fails? In the loose parlance of modern business, these are "stakeholders", but they have nothing at stake, so they aren't. They are what they always were: suppliers, contractors and employees, doing their job. You need to "manage" them: you need them to give you time and perhaps money; you need them to do the work to schedule; you need them to not obstruct you; you need to keep them informed and keep informed by them. You need to stroke egos and keep the high muck-a-mucks informed. You need to do all that stuff, but that's not "managing stakeholders", it's "dealing with the people you need to work with." Or, work, as it's otherwise known.
Does it matter? Yes. Because once you know this is really about "managing the people you need to make your project work", it all gets much more specific and, well, you could almost be prescriptive. It's also because it creates the illusion that everyone depends on everyone else - "we are all stakeholders" - when in fact your project could die a wheezing death and nobody would notice, care or be one jot worse off. Which is what actually happens.
I'm going to jump to my conclusion here: a stakeholder is anyone who has a legal, economic or other substantial relationship with you or your project and stands to have their life made worse if your project fails. Take the idea of "worse" seriously here. Employees are stakeholders because if the firm fails, they lose their jobs. Customers are sometimes stakeholders, such as when they are holidaymakers with a tour operator (what happens when the operator goes broke?), and sometimes not, if all they buy is a chocolate bar. Not being able to have your favourite chocolate bar does not make your life worse, though it may make it a little less sweet. Some patients in a hospital are stakeholders (if they are in for life-saving operations) and sometimes not (if they are in for cosmetic surgery). We are all, however, stakeholders in the Water and Sewage company - you want to think about how much worse your life is going to get without potable running water and with blocked sewers? Some things don't have any stakeholders at all - like the local car boot sale or the next episode of some cheap reality TV show.
Within a company, who are your stakeholders? Your Line Manager, who will get their ass kicked if you screw up. Maybe their boss as well. How about the people who do the work? If your project fails, what happens to them? Not much, unless they were hired specifically to work on the project and are fired if it's not there anymore. The full-timers still have jobs: failed projects make work for the working man to do as much as successful ones. There may be people waiting for you to finish your project so they can do theirs, but if you fail, they will find another way of getting started. Their lives are a little more difficult, but "more difficult" does not mean "worse". So not them. The suppliers are happy-ish because they still got paid for all that stuff that no-one is going to use now. They may have to find another customer to replace the business the successful project would have given them, but having to find new business doesn't make their life worse, just a little more difficult. If the project was going to provide many new jobs to the area, those people who now won't have those jobs and can't find others, they turn our to be stakeholders.
So what are all the other people who are working on the project and / or looking forward to its success, but whose lives won't end if it fails? In the loose parlance of modern business, these are "stakeholders", but they have nothing at stake, so they aren't. They are what they always were: suppliers, contractors and employees, doing their job. You need to "manage" them: you need them to give you time and perhaps money; you need them to do the work to schedule; you need them to not obstruct you; you need to keep them informed and keep informed by them. You need to stroke egos and keep the high muck-a-mucks informed. You need to do all that stuff, but that's not "managing stakeholders", it's "dealing with the people you need to work with." Or, work, as it's otherwise known.
Does it matter? Yes. Because once you know this is really about "managing the people you need to make your project work", it all gets much more specific and, well, you could almost be prescriptive. It's also because it creates the illusion that everyone depends on everyone else - "we are all stakeholders" - when in fact your project could die a wheezing death and nobody would notice, care or be one jot worse off. Which is what actually happens.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
The Joy Formidable
So there's this slightly naff ad for a Swedish pear cider (that's what it says) that makes it out to be the drink of choice of all those party people who are so cool you don't even know they're there because they're in clubs you didn't know existed behind doors you didn't know opened. Or something. It's been playing in the cinemas for a month or more now. I didn't like it at first because it seemed to play on the idea that there's a great time to be had out there if only we knew where - and drinking their cider would help. Mmmmm. Not so much. But there's this band in the ad. And they're playing this song. Which the second time I saw the ad I got (the first time I was just like, oh, indie noise).
Listen to this twice. It's the best track you will hear this year. If you don't agree, give it another try. If you still don't get it, go back to all those English girl faux soul singers.
I get all hot and bothered when I hear it - as I'm playing it now - and not just because guitarist / singer Ritzy Brian is hot. It's been a while since a song did that. Of course I'm getting the mini-album from Amazon.
Listen to this twice. It's the best track you will hear this year. If you don't agree, give it another try. If you still don't get it, go back to all those English girl faux soul singers.
I get all hot and bothered when I hear it - as I'm playing it now - and not just because guitarist / singer Ritzy Brian is hot. It's been a while since a song did that. Of course I'm getting the mini-album from Amazon.
Monday, 9 August 2010
Those Darn "People Skills"
My reflex answer to "what are your weaknesses" is: a) hiring people and b) "people skills".
Yet the people I have hired over the years have all gone on to do well for themselves. I cheat, of course, because I only hire smart people - it makes my life so much easier. I have had to let people go, and in both cases I believe I did so in a manner that let them keep their self-respect and dignity.
When I'm talking about something with someone, I'm fine, even if it's a "personal" matter like behaviour or even dress. I can do that so indirectly and tactfully they don't even notice - and sometimes I don't realise I've done it until later. As long as there's a thing we're both talking about, I'm fine.
I'm not so good with dealing with people in authority, I tense up the same way I do if someone points a camera at me - and what are the odds of that for an ACoA? I am not good at being polite to people who are supposed to be helping me but clearly don't know enough to help me (most IT help desks and shop assistants): I tend to cut the conversation short. That's not unique to me.
I think I'm bad at dealing with and communicating with people because I know they don't understand me, nor me them, unless we're just exchanging practical information. I read that sharing mutual interests with another human being is supposed to give you a warm glow of belonging: I'll assume you have felt that. I haven't, or if I have then it was so faint I missed it. The thing is, the Normals don't know this about my communications with them: they think they are communicating as if with another Normal. I really should stop worrying about this.
I'm really bad at dealing a bureaucracy that's designed to make my life more difficult for no actual reward - we're talking about a large retail bank here. Its IT and data security would not stop a halfway decent Russian hacker from stripping it of valuable data at the end of a six month stint, but sure as heck stops us doing our jobs. Which is a special case of what my real weakness.
Which is dealing with people who are not actual rogues but are practicing denial, lying, misleading, obfuscating, playing games, or who are insecure in their job, or who aren't quite up to the job and have to hide it or try to bring the job down to something they can manage - to the detriment of my plans and intentions. You can be as mendaciously bureaucratic as you like if it doesn't affect me. Once you mess up my plans, you are no longer a person, but an obstacle, The Problem. You are not with me, so you must be against me, and are therefore The Enemy. You. Personally. No hiding behind job descriptions: a decent person wouldn't do a job like that, so you cannot be a decent person. In the movie Clean and Sober Morgan Freeman gets the line "You know the addict's least favourite word? It's NO". When you become an obstacle, you are saying NO and I can barely contain my anger. My father's first reply was always NO and a boy can get fed up and angry of hearing that after a while. It turns you to that Jesuit thing about being easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
This world is full of such people and I have no patience with them. That's my weakness.
Yet the people I have hired over the years have all gone on to do well for themselves. I cheat, of course, because I only hire smart people - it makes my life so much easier. I have had to let people go, and in both cases I believe I did so in a manner that let them keep their self-respect and dignity.
When I'm talking about something with someone, I'm fine, even if it's a "personal" matter like behaviour or even dress. I can do that so indirectly and tactfully they don't even notice - and sometimes I don't realise I've done it until later. As long as there's a thing we're both talking about, I'm fine.
I'm not so good with dealing with people in authority, I tense up the same way I do if someone points a camera at me - and what are the odds of that for an ACoA? I am not good at being polite to people who are supposed to be helping me but clearly don't know enough to help me (most IT help desks and shop assistants): I tend to cut the conversation short. That's not unique to me.
I think I'm bad at dealing with and communicating with people because I know they don't understand me, nor me them, unless we're just exchanging practical information. I read that sharing mutual interests with another human being is supposed to give you a warm glow of belonging: I'll assume you have felt that. I haven't, or if I have then it was so faint I missed it. The thing is, the Normals don't know this about my communications with them: they think they are communicating as if with another Normal. I really should stop worrying about this.
I'm really bad at dealing a bureaucracy that's designed to make my life more difficult for no actual reward - we're talking about a large retail bank here. Its IT and data security would not stop a halfway decent Russian hacker from stripping it of valuable data at the end of a six month stint, but sure as heck stops us doing our jobs. Which is a special case of what my real weakness.
Which is dealing with people who are not actual rogues but are practicing denial, lying, misleading, obfuscating, playing games, or who are insecure in their job, or who aren't quite up to the job and have to hide it or try to bring the job down to something they can manage - to the detriment of my plans and intentions. You can be as mendaciously bureaucratic as you like if it doesn't affect me. Once you mess up my plans, you are no longer a person, but an obstacle, The Problem. You are not with me, so you must be against me, and are therefore The Enemy. You. Personally. No hiding behind job descriptions: a decent person wouldn't do a job like that, so you cannot be a decent person. In the movie Clean and Sober Morgan Freeman gets the line "You know the addict's least favourite word? It's NO". When you become an obstacle, you are saying NO and I can barely contain my anger. My father's first reply was always NO and a boy can get fed up and angry of hearing that after a while. It turns you to that Jesuit thing about being easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
This world is full of such people and I have no patience with them. That's my weakness.
Friday, 6 August 2010
Preliminary Remarks on Denial
Denial is the failure to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness, used as a defence mechanism. If you're in denial about something, you know it's true, and you're refusing to admit it to yourself, other people and the relevant authorities, whosoever they may be. Denial is always selfish, and because it is a choice and leads to others becoming confused about how to interpret large chunks of their world correctly, it is always malicious. That malice is often the subject of its own denial: the secrets are held to be harmless or our enforced ignorance was for our own good. Hiding the truth about something that matters to someone else is always bad - though that doesn't mean you should rush into blurting it out any old way and when. You are allowed to hide the truth from your enemies. Your children, your family, your spouse, even your employees, customers, suppliers and stockholders - these are not your (official) enemies. When you hide a truth that is their business from them, you are treating them as if they are (officially) enemies. That is malice and bad faith. The fact that the denier is often themselves the victim of someone or something else does not let them off the hook: the correct way to deal with whatever it is, is to name it, shame it and if need be divorce it, not to fabricate a fairy-tale in which it doesn't exist. Weakness may be a reason, but it is not an excuse.
If you grew up with denial you can't do what normal people do: ignore the lyrics and listen to the song. It isn't that you can't hear the song, it's that you know that a song is just a singer's trick. You can't trust the words, you can't trust the emotional signals around the words, so you trust only the actions. You work backwards from consequences to intentions because you can't trust what anyone says about their motives. You take words at their face value, because that's all you can do, even though you know as a matter of abstract principle that what they said is not what they mean. After a while, you can recognise denial by its very manner of expression. And because you know about the malice behind it, you are upset and insulted, it triggers memories and reactions from way, way back when you were vulnerable and upset. If you grew up around denial, it's hard to handle it when you're an adult.
This is what trips me up time and time again at The Bank. I'm not going to list all the things The Bank's management is in denial about - life is too short and I'll just get upset. And all this has consequences for what I think I'm good and bad at as regards that dreaded phrase "people skills".
There are times I think that ordinary people no more listen to the words they hear and use than they do the lyrics of their favourite songs. They hear the sound and the inflections and the subject and that's all they need. They pick up the emotional markers and draw political consequences from that - "manager X thinks that project Y is a good thing, so I shouldn't make rude noises about it to her" - but do not listen to the actual words and draw substantive conclusions - "manager X thinks project Y will help us one jot? hasn't she seen it? I should explain why it sucks".
If you grew up with denial you can't do what normal people do: ignore the lyrics and listen to the song. It isn't that you can't hear the song, it's that you know that a song is just a singer's trick. You can't trust the words, you can't trust the emotional signals around the words, so you trust only the actions. You work backwards from consequences to intentions because you can't trust what anyone says about their motives. You take words at their face value, because that's all you can do, even though you know as a matter of abstract principle that what they said is not what they mean. After a while, you can recognise denial by its very manner of expression. And because you know about the malice behind it, you are upset and insulted, it triggers memories and reactions from way, way back when you were vulnerable and upset. If you grew up around denial, it's hard to handle it when you're an adult.
This is what trips me up time and time again at The Bank. I'm not going to list all the things The Bank's management is in denial about - life is too short and I'll just get upset. And all this has consequences for what I think I'm good and bad at as regards that dreaded phrase "people skills".
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
IT and Analytical Skills Audit
In the previous posts I described the Dreyfus model of skill levels and explained why experts are not to be found in service industries. I've worked in service industries all my life and it makes me wonder how smart I really am or how much I didn't bother learning because I didn't need to.
So here's my view of myself. I am a proficient problem-solver and decision-maker. Part of that proficiency is learning to use the tools at hand to solve the problem, to produce something that does whatever needs to be done. At work I use Excel and VBA to produce reports off Teradata and Oracle databases not because I think those are the best tools, but because until recently The Bank didn't have anything else. (That's right, one of the largest retail financial companies in human history didn't have SAS or Business Objects as standard analyst's kit. You couldn't make it up.) Those solutions do the job and the job is what I was hired to do. Now that we have SAS and Business Objects, I'll look into using those. I extend my knowledge of what those tools can do and I've tightened up my programming style since reading Code Complete a couple of years ago. Another part of that proficiency is having enough background knowledge of a lot of subjects so that I can pick up and understand what I need, covering subjects from statistical significance tests to buyer psychology.
Am I a proficient VBA programmer and Excel user? Here's where I have a problem. Probably I am, but because I've always worked in service industries where the technical requirements are very low, I've never really been pushed to learn all that I can learn. And I don't learn that stuff for the enjoyment of it - I'm a philosopher and mathematician, not a programmer who goes home and works on open-source. So maybe while I have proficient technique, my knowledge level is only competent.
If I'm a proficient problem-solver and decision-maker, how come I'm, not in management? Because except right at the top, management is not where decisions are made nor problems solved. Most management jobs are mostly administration, reporting, supervision, some light project- and process-management and people-development. A handful offer opportunities for leadership-by-example and even fewer for leadership-by-inspiration. The Bank flatters call centre team group supervisors by sending them on "leadership" courses, but that's just linguistic inflation. You want to make decisions? Seek out the trading floor my son. You want to solve problems? Go into programming, engineering or medicine.
I'm a proficient pricing analyst / manager as well. In a lot of companies, pricing is where a lot of decisions are. Just not in The Bank. The pricing I do is neither insurance nor financial instruments, but that's enough. I don't want to price CDO's thank you. You can't be good at pricing without being competent at management accounting and such related matters.
So at what do I suck?
So here's my view of myself. I am a proficient problem-solver and decision-maker. Part of that proficiency is learning to use the tools at hand to solve the problem, to produce something that does whatever needs to be done. At work I use Excel and VBA to produce reports off Teradata and Oracle databases not because I think those are the best tools, but because until recently The Bank didn't have anything else. (That's right, one of the largest retail financial companies in human history didn't have SAS or Business Objects as standard analyst's kit. You couldn't make it up.) Those solutions do the job and the job is what I was hired to do. Now that we have SAS and Business Objects, I'll look into using those. I extend my knowledge of what those tools can do and I've tightened up my programming style since reading Code Complete a couple of years ago. Another part of that proficiency is having enough background knowledge of a lot of subjects so that I can pick up and understand what I need, covering subjects from statistical significance tests to buyer psychology.
Am I a proficient VBA programmer and Excel user? Here's where I have a problem. Probably I am, but because I've always worked in service industries where the technical requirements are very low, I've never really been pushed to learn all that I can learn. And I don't learn that stuff for the enjoyment of it - I'm a philosopher and mathematician, not a programmer who goes home and works on open-source. So maybe while I have proficient technique, my knowledge level is only competent.
If I'm a proficient problem-solver and decision-maker, how come I'm, not in management? Because except right at the top, management is not where decisions are made nor problems solved. Most management jobs are mostly administration, reporting, supervision, some light project- and process-management and people-development. A handful offer opportunities for leadership-by-example and even fewer for leadership-by-inspiration. The Bank flatters call centre team group supervisors by sending them on "leadership" courses, but that's just linguistic inflation. You want to make decisions? Seek out the trading floor my son. You want to solve problems? Go into programming, engineering or medicine.
I'm a proficient pricing analyst / manager as well. In a lot of companies, pricing is where a lot of decisions are. Just not in The Bank. The pricing I do is neither insurance nor financial instruments, but that's enough. I don't want to price CDO's thank you. You can't be good at pricing without being competent at management accounting and such related matters.
So at what do I suck?
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