Category: Uncategorized

What if you could follow some simple principles to increase creativity and innovation?

When Disney bought Pixar in 2006, they were hoping to import some of Pixar’s magic into the 100 year old behemoth of animation. Their work was cut out for them. 

At the time, Disney’s culture was one of error-avoidance. Feedback on films in progress — called “notes” — plays a core role in film development. Unfortunately, it was provided by three separate supervising parties and came as a checklist of (often contradictory) mandated changes to make. Directors didn’t have control over their creative baby. To top it off, an oversight group existed with the sole purpose of pouring over production reports to make sure films progressed on schedule and on budget. This did wonders for staff morale.

Pixar brought changes. The checklist of “notes” was replaced with Pixar’s “Braintrust” system: a team of creatives giving uncensored feedback, often in the form of issues they see, without necessarily suggesting specific changes. Creative control is retained by the project’s Director. Similarly, the oversight group was dismantled. It was made clear that teams would be responsible for tracking their own schedules.

“The oversight group had been put in place without anyone asking a fundamental question: How do we enable our people to solve problems? Instead, they asked: How do we prevent our people from screwing up? That approach never encourages a creative response. My rule of thumb is that any time we impose limits or procedures, we should ask how they will aid in enabling people to respond creatively. If the answer is that they won’t, then the proposals are ill suited to the task at hand.” –Creativity, Inc

This seems like something that can be optimized for. Take any process or system and ask: Does this prevent our people from seeing new problems and coming up with creative solutions without approval from superiors? If it does, scrap it.

The urge for increased control seems to grow as a process, or organization, becomes more established. There’s more at stake. Something worked before, so let’s keep it. There are clear actions that we can take to increase innovation within an organization. The cost is giving up some amount of efficiency, and some degree of control. All with no guarantee of long-term payoff. Creativity is scary.

Coming back from almost 3 weeks in Japan, one of the things that struck me the most was how much better their cities were compared to most Western ones.

High density that still feels humane. Affordability that enables mixing of diverse socioeconomics statuses. Ease of getting around without the painful externalities of cars. Aesthetic pleasure, from single family homes to the high rises a few blocks away.

In the West, we’re used to a relatively strict tradeoff between delightful livability in pleasant surroundings and economic efficiency.

We know how to build environments that are pleasant to live in.

Beyond architectural style, what makes for a more attractive, higher value neighborhood? Let's have a look at some of the things that we have known for decades, centuries, yet still chose to ignore. Thread. pic.twitter.com/SAp8nvGEHt

— Wrath Of Gnon (@wrathofgnon) March 27, 2019

Japan has extreme density at key transit hotspots. Think a shopping mall that doesn’t suck, that is easy to get to from any part of town, and has lots of office space attached or nearby.

Crucially, density can stay high as you move away from transit hubs while still making a space that’s pleasant to live in. No cars parked, smaller streets, but plenty of green. Residential mixed with commercial. But buildings are not tall — plenty of light at street level without needing large offsets from the street. Everything walkable. People walking around because it’s pleasant and convenient.

https://twitter.com/dereklansonlee/status/845630474256986112

Basically, Hudson Yardses connected by subway, with West Villages in between.

As housing costs rise, build more. Osaka has a density of 30,655 people per square mile (11,836 * 2.59), making it the most dense major urban area in Japan and among the denser urban areas in the high income world. West Village, NYC is at 73,300.

Yet we find it easy to ignore these lessons, both when improving our existing spaces and when building new ones.

There comes a time in the life of every organism when it begins to decline. Its best days are behind it. Ominous signs of decay abound. The end can be envisioned — it’s no longer an abstract entity.

This concept applies equally well to corporations. Like organisms, companies also experience a lifecycle. An early period: sometimes tumultuous and violent with breathtaking growth, and other times a measured and gradual advancement. Maturity: coming into their own, their brand becomes associated with what they do — their principles and ideals The good ones win the love of their customers, and sometimes the world.

Finally, they reach senescence. The founders have either left or mentally checked out, or perhaps competition has become overwhelming. Or maybe the company’s first mission has become all but accomplished and it lacks a new direction. Not knowing what else to do, the organization marks its territory and tries to protect itself. This process takes many forms. However, once senescence has set in the company’s days are numbered.

Quality is no longer a priority. The old words are repeated but with little effect. Stuff about delighting customers, providing unparalleled value, not being evil, connecting people, etc. These become slogans of a former self. The organism no longer has the will, or the luxury, of acting on the principles that got it to where it is now.

Senescence is not bad. It’s not evil. It’s an inevitable stage in the lifecycle of an organism, and organizations are organisms. Some companies can even be reborn and find new life — the name is the same, perhaps, but much of the soul is replaced. Microsoft is a good example. It has come alive again in recent years. IBM also had a major second act, which is well into its final stages now.

What will we be saying of Google and Facebook 20 years from now?

Raw, unfiltered sense experience is a crushing torrent of stimulus. In the same way that a machine learning algorithm extracts relevant features from its inputs, the human mind seeks patterns in the mess of activity passing through it.

To “make sense” of anything, we are always relying on some Way of Seeing. You can think of it as a “lens” through which the stimulus hitting our senses gets interpreted.

A lens highlights some parts of experience, while inevitably hiding others. What gets highlighted constrains which actions feel relevant or possible.

Many people that are drawn to doing design work enjoy looking at the world through a lens of usability and human interaction. A button on a remote control is interpreted from the perspective of how humans might interact with it — what they expect the button to do or how easy it is to press. A public park is perceived in terms of where people might be able to sit or what kinds of activities might occur in the open spaces.

There is a different, although related, lens that is often used by artists. They like to view the world in terms of aesthetics. Rather than concern over convenience or ease of interaction, they perceive in terms of beauty and emotional impact.

Combining these two can be difficult. You have to synthesize different perspectives — use different lenses. The results can be impressive when done well.

And yet, there is no “one true lens” to rule them all.

There is no single optimal or “correct” way to interpret the world. It depends on what you care about or want to accomplish. The relevance of a lens is a function of the context within which it is used. Any lens comes with its own benefits and drawbacks.

The iPhone is a good example of a synthesis of several lenses, but there are inevitable trade-offs. Usability must be sacrificed for aesthetic appeal, and vice versa. Which is more important, which is correct? There is no objective truth here.

Most people can access many lenses but inevitably find some more rewarding, or easier to use, than others. The lenses they practice more end up being their strong suits and become even more relied upon. It can be easy to forget how different lenses impact people.

The different ways of seeing of a Democrat and a Republican can sometimes make communication all but impossible.

When someone’s views seem incomprehensible, consider that they may be using a different lens than you. What might yours be missing that theirs can see?

Do we justly elevate those with sweeping visions and grand aspirations?

The parable of the three stone cutters, as popularized by Peter Drucker:

Drucker is not indifferent between these motivations. He sees the second stonecutter’s drive and thirst for excellence as meritorious — capturing the American spirit. Even better is the third stonecutter, however, perhaps because of his grand scale and desire for impact. Drucker suggests that it’s his broader vision and contribution to a structure that unites past and future. The other stonecutters lack awareness of this big picture.

Consider an alternative perspective.

The first seems to be “just” working for a living. What does that mean in practice? Likely, he is inspired by love for his family and those closest to him. He is motivated by the practical necessity of quelling hunger. He is aware that his family depends on him for survival. By materially providing for the lives of others, his labors serve a greater purpose. Communities and nations are built up out of tight circles of families and friendships, not generic people or citizens.

The second is merely doing the “best job” he can. This seems individualistic and perhaps even self-indulgent. Why bother perfecting stonecutting? However, his drive to constantly improve can serve as an inspiration to others. By highlighting the beauty that is everywhere hidden in plain sight, others can find fresh appreciation for the everyday. His obsession with his craft can even elevate it to an art.

The third is inspired by doing big things. He wants to make a lasting impact and turn man towards “higher” ideals. He highlights his desire to toil for the common good — a cathedral that all can benefit from. He serves an amorphous, anonymous peopledom — pure altruism. Or, at least, that is what he wants everyone to think. It’s certainly a good story and captures our attention — just see how Drucker elevates this man.

Any yet, they all engage in fundamentally the same activity. Some just have a more flattering story.

I’m increasingly skeptical of the consequences of elevating the third stonecutter at the expense of the others. If I met these three men on the street, I am tempted to reverse the ordering: I am more likely to want to trust the first over the second, and the second over the third.

Interpersonal legibility is approximated by how quickly a stranger can grok you. Choosing how legible we want to appear involves making an interesting trade-off.

On one extreme we can become a Deleuzian persona of “pure difference”. You are totally free to be “yourself” but simultaneously you present as an enigma to others. You are totally unique but also hard to understand — you find yourself on your own planet. Think John C. Lilly.

On the other hand, if you maximize your interpersonal legibility you become a stereotype. You appear as an “average” — an everyman. People will think they can quickly understand you but the “you” on display is likely in tension with how you see yourself. “Oh, he’s just a NYC finance-type”.

We shape our legibility to negotiate a balance between being inscrutable and being uninteresting.

Navigating the balance of interpersonal eligibility is a good case of Scott Alexander’s “law of equal and opposite advice”. Some people may find themselves feeling more connected to others if they become more legible, whereas others may benefit from getting weirder.

My biggest takeaway from 10+ years working in algo trading is a visceral sense of how everything is in motion. The software we build relies on libraries and tools which are constantly changing. The hardware stack, from the telecom infrastructure to the processor cache, improves every year. The exchange’s rules are subject to revision, along with their software approximations of those rules. The people in the business move between institutions, and institutions themselves come and go. Nothing stands still — everything is constantly inching forward, or at least in some direction.

 

When we find a solution to a real-world problem, we create an intrinsically-unstable piece of knowledge. The knowledge is unstable because it relies on lots of other parts standing still. But all those little parts are themselves subject to the wheel of change. When we have an insight and want to take advantage of it, it helps to remember that the knowledge is time-sensitive and decaying. The knowledge is pointing to “things” but those things aren’t static — mere patterns that are soon to be memories. Eventually, everything rearranges and most knowledge becomes obsolete. We can piss or get off the pot, and if we stick around long enough the pot will disappear.

 

I rarely beat myself up for trying and failing, whereas in retrospect the prospect of failure feels very scary. Failure can often be made less costly than the suffering we later call upon ourselves for failing to act.

There are at least two ways to answer this question.

You can speak of where you want to go. This is the story you tell about your Self — usually, a story that allows you to look good and feel proud. To some extent, this story is wishful thinking. But not completely. By putting aspirations into words, we nudge ourselves towards acting in their direction. If only by suggestion, or when we are otherwise indifferent between two actions. On the margin, this story we tell starts to influence the choices we make.

Alternatively, you can answer the question of “Where are you heading?” by looking at the actions you take. Assuming you knew nothing about yourself — and had no access to your stories or aspirations — except the visible actions you took today, yesterday, last week, and last month… where does it look like you are heading? Even better, if you have the courage: ask someone you know relatively well where they think you are heading.

The distance between these two answers is a measure of how much you are fighting yourself.

You can change your direction. You can also get excited about it. To do that, you need to craft a compelling vision. There’s no motivation without vision.

One factor separates spinning my wheels in life and making exhilarating progress: motivation. How motivated am I to do the thing that I’m trying to do? How yummy does it feel? 

You can try all the psychological tools, productivity techniques, or rationality strategies in the book, but if you don’t feel motivated to do the thing then you’re going to suffer and the result will disappoint. Conversely, when you’re starving and seek food, you will reliably surprise yourself with the kinds of challenges you can overcome.

In the same way that water can dissolve more substances than any other liquid, motivation can dissolve pretty much any problem you can think of.

The best part is, it doesn’t matter where your motivation comes from. It doesn’t matter how it works and you don’t need to try to control it. You can pretend like its magical — some combination of past experiences. Given the hand you’ve been dealt, what can you do with it? Find what’s yummy and allow yourself to become an expert at that. If you’re not doing what’s yummy or trying to get yourself to find other things yummy (“wanting to want”), you are torturing yourself. This is a choice you’re making.

There’s a way out of this conundrum: craft a compelling vision.

While meditating, my mind often wanders. The style of that wandering isn’t random. The majority of the time, I find myself planning. Thinking about what I will be doing that day, or next week, or for the next few years. Breaking everything into pieces and rearranging them to solve the puzzle of maximizing fulfillment or happiness (or something). This likely serves at least some value. I hit upon some combinations of actions and ideas that I wouldn’t have otherwise. My future outcomes end up a tad bit more pleasing.

I often wonder what it would be like to have a different pattern of mind-wandering. Presumably, there are people whose minds wander towards reflection or self-assessment. Maybe their mind is more interested in replaying their previous day and its interactions with others. Drilling into the details of micro-expressions and vaguely phrased text messages. There are probably minds that enjoy wandering to the current events as presented by the media. The latest thing Trump said or what is happening in a far-off genocide.

These patterns govern much of our conscious experience. How do they impact our quality of life and the kind of person we become?