On my way out to lunch, I fell into conversation with a fellow Colleague and he remarked that morale seemed to have slipped quite a bit over the last three weeks. Nothing anyone can put their finger on, just a general slackening of mood. Well, three weeks or so ago we had confirmation of when we are being expelled from the Eden of the West End into the Hell of the Liverpool Street Industrial Estate. Then there was an announcement that the Great Computer Project would be delayed, which added to the experience most people have of it, that it is going to be a huge mess that leaves brown smelly stuff all over everyone except the Truly Guilty.
Now the "cost savings" are coming. There's National No-Travel Week once a month. There's a rumour that anyone seen with a colour print-out will be marked as Not On Program. We're not supposed to print stuff. Now the reason I know this is a gesture is that if they were really serious, they would be removing the photocopier / printers. (They did a hand-in-your-old-computers week.) Except it wouldn't help if they did because photocopier / printers are on unbreakable multi-year rental contracts. Not printing is a gesture. There's a hiring freeze - but then, when isn't there a hiring freeze? The message that's going out is that non-compliance with the cost-cutting program will sink you, commercial creativity won't get a budget and actual success won't matter.
But the press rumour about 15,000 more job losses is way more true than you might think. The Bank must employ the corporate PR equivalent of Max Clifford, it's so good at keeping stuff out of the Press. If anything comes out, it's because The Bank wants it to come out. That article was a managing-expectations leak, and the expectations it was managing are the employees'. You know what happens now. The voluntary redundancy program, the office closures and moves, the non-compulsory compulsory headcount reduction.
Much more to the point is the increased pressure on the middle managers to get things done without the support and staff to do it and when the people who Actually Do Things have been told that they can't hire, spend and have these high priorities first. So the organisation turns into one huge pushing, bargaining, meeting-holding, priority-shuffling mess and the weak managers pass the tasks off onto their subordinates then blame them for lack of "influencing skills" when, surprise surprise, they can't get anything done. Which means everyone gets mediocre and poor reviews, no-one gets pay rises or bonuses and morale, having sunk, settles on the sea-bed. The whole place starts back-biting and arse-covering. Because no-one can actually do a grown-up's job, they make do by finding fault with each others' numbers and "challenging" assumptions and statements. Because no-one will actually be able to do anything, all they will do is posture.
Which throws us right back to the dysfunctional Bank of a few years ago. I hate that environment. Some people love it, but they were the kids at school who used to throw other kids back-packs over the fence.
Damn it. I liked the way The Bank was a few weeks ago. Now it's going to sink into the shite again and become just another posturing British Institution, like Virgin Media, Cable and Wireless, South-West Trains and all the others.
And double-damn it, the job market sucks. I've been on a couple of interviews and the phrase "frying pan to frying pan" occurs to me. And the rate at which Barclays hires people implies a rate of them leaving which is slightly scary. Like the annual recruitment of the Pricing Analyst at Tiscali as was.
Friday, 17 June 2011
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
If I'm So Busy, Why Am I In A Slump?
Look at my diary and I'm busy, and have been since the bank holiday. The front garden is clear (hard work by my nephew, driving stuff to the tip by me). I had a day working from home because I had to have my old cooker replaced - this is what happens when the gas board replace the main on your street and the pipe to your house, they come in to switch everything back on and then tell you your cooker is a health and safety hazard and disconnect it. Oh the wonders of online ordering. Props to Comet who had what I wanted and delivered and installed it three working days later. I dealt with a speeding fine I got because I missed a camera that's up on a pole along the A316 just outside Richmond and didn't even get upset. I've got my two mile run to under eighteen minutes, which is actually another target ticked. I just knocked out forty sit-ups this evening before the spin class, and that's just inside another target. Don't ask about press-ups: twenty and I am suffering. Then there's the underlying housework-cooking-shopping I have to do because that's what you do when you're single. I just booked a couple of nights in a hotel in Wales at the end of the month as a short break. I'm hitting the gym four times a week at least. As this appears, I'll be in Sadlers Wells, and the next day I have an all-afternoon BUPA physical. All my killer workbook design and VBA programming skills are paying off at work - about which maybe later. I'm reading Bruno Latour's Laboratory Life: The Construction of Scientific Facts and keeping up nicely thank you.
And I feel like There's Something I Need To Do I Don't Know I Need To Do. My brain is in a slump, though I have not forgotten the algebraic geometry, and indeed the next post on that is going to be a doozy. It's trying to process something and get the message through to me, but either it's a tough task or I'm not listening very hard.
Either that or continually waking up at just before 06:00 every day (uh-huh, even at the weekend. I don't have late nights and hangovers, remember?) is taking its toll.
Somebody told me I looked happy the other week. I think that was when the trouble started. I've taken a close look at a photograph of me on the beach at Zandvoort, taken by my English Ex-Pat Friend. Look once, it looks like a smiling happy person. Look twice and you can see the strain. I can, anyway.
And I feel like There's Something I Need To Do I Don't Know I Need To Do. My brain is in a slump, though I have not forgotten the algebraic geometry, and indeed the next post on that is going to be a doozy. It's trying to process something and get the message through to me, but either it's a tough task or I'm not listening very hard.
Either that or continually waking up at just before 06:00 every day (uh-huh, even at the weekend. I don't have late nights and hangovers, remember?) is taking its toll.
Somebody told me I looked happy the other week. I think that was when the trouble started. I've taken a close look at a photograph of me on the beach at Zandvoort, taken by my English Ex-Pat Friend. Look once, it looks like a smiling happy person. Look twice and you can see the strain. I can, anyway.
Monday, 13 June 2011
Problem-Solvers vs Specialists
(This follows on from the post about an analyst's view of programming.)
I was reading an interesting but often irritating little book called Science: A Four Thousand Year History by Patricia Fara. It reminds me of Felipe Fernandez-Armesto's Millenium and the attempts of other historians to play up the role and significance of non-Western cultures, which is fairly difficult as the development of both Islamic and Chinese cultures were effectively shut down by their politicians way before they had the chance to carry on for long enough to see if they could come up with mathematical physics. But that's another story.
Here are some quotes from her view of Crick and Watson: "...[Rosamund] Franklin...[was] taking enough time as she went along to master fully all the necessary techniques...In contrast, Watson described how he lurched from one faulty hypothesis to the next, homing on on the double helix through flashes of intuition and snippets of information borrowed from specialists... Watson and Crick...garnered only the pieces of information they required to help them juggle their cut-out shapes into a structure compatible with all the data...after many blind alleys and lucky flukes, they eventually hit on a version that made sense..."
I read that passage and thought but that's what I do. That's what anyone who wants to solve a problem does. Solving big problems usually needs techniques and ideas from many different disciplines, but not all of the ideas and techniques. I need the techniques and results I need to solve the problem, and no more. Crick and Watson were problem-solvers, not specialists, and grabbing around for a decent way in to solving the problem is what problem-solvers do.
Fara says this like it's a bad thing. Like an honest, respectable scientist masters their specialism for its own sake and if they solve a big problem, does so as a consequence of their devotion to their specialism, not as an aim in itself. I used to think that when I was in my teens and twenties, that I had to know everything about "the fundamentals" before I could move on to the advanced stuff. As if you have to be able to play the Goldberg Variations and Chopin's Nocturnes before you can play Blue Monk. You don't. I wish someone had told me that earlier.
In academia, they are paid to research in their subject and teach. Though you might think otherwise, academics are not paid to solve Big Problems, like how hereditary works. Academia is a hierarchical institution (this is why female academics are hung up on "hierarchy") and taking on a big problem is like making a bid to be the alpha dog. Nice, well-behaved researchers don't take on big problems.
In business, we're paid to solve to problems, not develop skills and knowledge for the sake of it. (Taken too far, this can be counter-productive for the company: the more skills you have, the more likely you are to solve tougher problems. You need to know what skills you want to learn and look out for problems that will let you practice them.) The ambition and competitive nature of the problem-solver does better in business and the military.
Neither is "better" than the other. Both need each other. Problem-solvers need the specialists to devise the techniques and come up with that, until now unappreciated, crucial but obscure fact. Specialists need the problem-solvers to give their work significance and direction.
I was reading an interesting but often irritating little book called Science: A Four Thousand Year History by Patricia Fara. It reminds me of Felipe Fernandez-Armesto's Millenium and the attempts of other historians to play up the role and significance of non-Western cultures, which is fairly difficult as the development of both Islamic and Chinese cultures were effectively shut down by their politicians way before they had the chance to carry on for long enough to see if they could come up with mathematical physics. But that's another story.
Here are some quotes from her view of Crick and Watson: "...[Rosamund] Franklin...[was] taking enough time as she went along to master fully all the necessary techniques...In contrast, Watson described how he lurched from one faulty hypothesis to the next, homing on on the double helix through flashes of intuition and snippets of information borrowed from specialists... Watson and Crick...garnered only the pieces of information they required to help them juggle their cut-out shapes into a structure compatible with all the data...after many blind alleys and lucky flukes, they eventually hit on a version that made sense..."
I read that passage and thought but that's what I do. That's what anyone who wants to solve a problem does. Solving big problems usually needs techniques and ideas from many different disciplines, but not all of the ideas and techniques. I need the techniques and results I need to solve the problem, and no more. Crick and Watson were problem-solvers, not specialists, and grabbing around for a decent way in to solving the problem is what problem-solvers do.
Fara says this like it's a bad thing. Like an honest, respectable scientist masters their specialism for its own sake and if they solve a big problem, does so as a consequence of their devotion to their specialism, not as an aim in itself. I used to think that when I was in my teens and twenties, that I had to know everything about "the fundamentals" before I could move on to the advanced stuff. As if you have to be able to play the Goldberg Variations and Chopin's Nocturnes before you can play Blue Monk. You don't. I wish someone had told me that earlier.
In academia, they are paid to research in their subject and teach. Though you might think otherwise, academics are not paid to solve Big Problems, like how hereditary works. Academia is a hierarchical institution (this is why female academics are hung up on "hierarchy") and taking on a big problem is like making a bid to be the alpha dog. Nice, well-behaved researchers don't take on big problems.
In business, we're paid to solve to problems, not develop skills and knowledge for the sake of it. (Taken too far, this can be counter-productive for the company: the more skills you have, the more likely you are to solve tougher problems. You need to know what skills you want to learn and look out for problems that will let you practice them.) The ambition and competitive nature of the problem-solver does better in business and the military.
Neither is "better" than the other. Both need each other. Problem-solvers need the specialists to devise the techniques and come up with that, until now unappreciated, crucial but obscure fact. Specialists need the problem-solvers to give their work significance and direction.
Friday, 10 June 2011
An Analyst's View of Programming
It's an odd thing, working as what's known as an "MI Analyst". What's my job about? Getting the best information out fastest with the smallest amount of maintainable code. A large chunk of my value to the company is my understanding of the data tables, the meaning and reliability of the data in them (what are the values and meanings of that flag?) and the processes by which the tables are produced. So I can interpret or avoid some of the anomalies ("use that table instead of this one for that exercise, it's faster and the data is, errr, more reliable"). Another large chunk is the ability to translate business-speak into data and code, suggest other things the user might want to look at, and remind them of the various odditities of the systems. The business doesn't set a lot of store on my technical competence as a programmer (in the sense of design+coding). Which seems an odd judgement, as the better I am at it, the better I work.
I have a very different focus compared to a full-time developer (code hacker), let alone a full-fledged LISP junkie. I'm not really interested in neat programming tricks to solve a problem in number theory. I am interested in how to use a language to help me achieve a task. I'm not the guy whose code uses bit-arithmetic - I'm the guy who writes copious comments and gives his variables meaningful names. For me, the languages are tools I use to get the job done, not something I think it's cool to know more about. The day I have a problem (and far more importantly an IT environment environment) best solved in LISP will be the day I learn LISP.
You'll notice something here. I have enough background to know that LISP exists, what it does well, how it differs from YACL++ (Yet Another C++-style Language), and what kinds of problems it might be good at solving. That kind of background knowledge is, to me, one of the things that separates a senior from a regular analyst. It's why I advise the young 'uns that they must scan the manuals. I scan the manuals so I know what the tools can do, not to memorise it all. Then when a new task comes along, I have an idea that this or that tool may have a feature that make my life easy. (No. Using the internet won't do. It encourages a script-kiddie attitude and works best for very specific tasks. It doesn't really work for a general problem.)
One more thing. Notice that I said I put lots of comments and used descriptive variable names. Anything can be done with proper style, and should be. It doesn't matter if I'm writing a little bit of SQL or a VBA class with a bunch of methods, I want to do it so it looks the part and makes me look the part. Call me shallow and superficial, but it leads to good code. And that ain't bad.
I have a very different focus compared to a full-time developer (code hacker), let alone a full-fledged LISP junkie. I'm not really interested in neat programming tricks to solve a problem in number theory. I am interested in how to use a language to help me achieve a task. I'm not the guy whose code uses bit-arithmetic - I'm the guy who writes copious comments and gives his variables meaningful names. For me, the languages are tools I use to get the job done, not something I think it's cool to know more about. The day I have a problem (and far more importantly an IT environment environment) best solved in LISP will be the day I learn LISP.
You'll notice something here. I have enough background to know that LISP exists, what it does well, how it differs from YACL++ (Yet Another C++-style Language), and what kinds of problems it might be good at solving. That kind of background knowledge is, to me, one of the things that separates a senior from a regular analyst. It's why I advise the young 'uns that they must scan the manuals. I scan the manuals so I know what the tools can do, not to memorise it all. Then when a new task comes along, I have an idea that this or that tool may have a feature that make my life easy. (No. Using the internet won't do. It encourages a script-kiddie attitude and works best for very specific tasks. It doesn't really work for a general problem.)
One more thing. Notice that I said I put lots of comments and used descriptive variable names. Anything can be done with proper style, and should be. It doesn't matter if I'm writing a little bit of SQL or a VBA class with a bunch of methods, I want to do it so it looks the part and makes me look the part. Call me shallow and superficial, but it leads to good code. And that ain't bad.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Holiday In The Algarve (7): Praia de Beliche
Some of those west coast beaches barely exist at high tide and the Praia de Beliche, just up the road from Sagres, is one of them. Instead I wandered around the headland and saw some more guys practicing the Algarve Extreme Fishing, which must be done from cliff edges many, many dozens of metres above sea level. I had lunch on an hotel balcony, photographs and details of which I forgot to gather partly because I was Having An Emotion at the time, and partly because I was greatly distracted and amused by a retired Dutch businessman and his wife spinning the waitress / manager (Elena, I think, who taught English) a line about shooting a commercial and how she should be in it. I don't think she believed it any more than I did. And, yes, I did chat to the Dutch couple and confirmed they were just having fun.
Click on the flower pictures, because those are full-size and you need to see the details.
Finally, I defy you not to see what I saw in this...
Click on the flower pictures, because those are full-size and you need to see the details.
Finally, I defy you not to see what I saw in this...
Woof!
Monday, 6 June 2011
Holiday In the Algarve (6): Praia de Monte Clerigo
Another beach on the west coast, though this one is a lot easier to get to, has parking by the beach, and even an actual village.
Get away from the bit right in front of the bar and car park, and it gets more interesting. The guys standing on the headland are fishing. As are the guys standing on the rocks. Turns out that fishing from the edge of a cliff into water sixty feet below you and fishing is quite the thing to do on the west coast, as some more photographs at another beach will show.
Get away from the bit right in front of the bar and car park, and it gets more interesting. The guys standing on the headland are fishing. As are the guys standing on the rocks. Turns out that fishing from the edge of a cliff into water sixty feet below you and fishing is quite the thing to do on the west coast, as some more photographs at another beach will show.
Friday, 3 June 2011
Saturday Stroll, Amsterdam
I like Amsterdam, and not for the reason you do. I'm not allowed mood-altering substances, remember? No-one bombed the centre during any of the wars, so it still looks like it did a few hundred years ago when the Dutch were as rich and middle-class as it got. My routine is to wander around, have lunch, visit a record store, the American Book Centre, get afternoon tea, wander some more and get supper. This is the front of the cafe, on the Utrechtsstraat, which I thought I had collected a card for but it wasn't.
It gets much cuter inside, where there is a tiny courtyard at the back.
Just up the road is the quite wonderful Concerto record store, over three fronts and with a basement. It has vinyl 12" for serious DJ's and buffs and a decent mix of most other genres. I picked up three Eric Dolphy and two Tomatito CD's. I know I could have got them on Amazon and maybe cheaper, but it's not the same as browsing the bins. If my companions are very unlucky, I spend a while in Art Multiples on the Keizergracht: it has at its own boast the largest collection of postcards in Europe and I don't doubt it. This time I picked up thirty to make a couple of collages.
It gets much cuter inside, where there is a tiny courtyard at the back.
Just up the road is the quite wonderful Concerto record store, over three fronts and with a basement. It has vinyl 12" for serious DJ's and buffs and a decent mix of most other genres. I picked up three Eric Dolphy and two Tomatito CD's. I know I could have got them on Amazon and maybe cheaper, but it's not the same as browsing the bins. If my companions are very unlucky, I spend a while in Art Multiples on the Keizergracht: it has at its own boast the largest collection of postcards in Europe and I don't doubt it. This time I picked up thirty to make a couple of collages.
Afternoon tea on the pavement at Goodies, followed by a stroll with swift dives in and out of art galleries in the Jordaan. Most of it looks something like this. Everyone who can't afford to live in the centre on one of the canals - which is most of the human race now - wants to live in the Jordaan.
If you're wondering where the foodie photographs are, the Dutch have been adamant about maintaining the simplicity of their snack foods: it's basically eggs, ham and cheese in various permutations, and apple tart with cream. But in the end, who cares? The centre of the town barely changes, and may be the last famous town left in the world with as relaxed a feeling. Just walking round it is enough to clear the soul.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)