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The right amount of time

Eventually, the culture figures out how much time we’re supposed to spend on something. They call it the “right” amount. How long an education should take, or an RFP. How fast to deliver on an order. How long to shop around for a new car. How much time to spend with a patient. How much time should be devoted to learning a new skill or engaging with a new idea…

If you spend about the same amount of time as everyone else, you’re likely to get about the same amount of benefit.

There are two other choices, worth considering:

  1. Spend significantly more time than anyone else thinks is reasonable. Charge appropriately. Perhaps this will lead to an extraordinary outcome.
  2. Spend far less time than you’re supposed to, and invest that time into processes and alternatives and benefits that everyone else is overlooking.

Changes in the culture often happen when someone is gutsy enough to reorganize the time stack.

The urgent changes

It always does.

Perhaps you remember when the most urgent issue of the day was the relationship between the US and Cuba.

Or the argument you were having about what flavor the wedding cake should be.

The very nature of ‘urgent’ means that it can’t and won’t persist.

Important, on the other hand, might hang around for a long time.

Insignificant digits

Who’s a better student? The one with a 3.95 GPA or the one with 3.96?

Neither or both, actually.

These metrics are foolishly and incorrectly precise. The decisions that led to this average had far more than a hundredth of a point of randomness and judgment calls along the way.

Who’s richer? Someone with 3 billion dollars or someone with 3.1 billion?

They’re both the same. They can buy anything they want and one won’t run out of money before the other.

And the same goes for clickthrough rates, body temperature and most of the other ‘measures’ of our life that deserve air quotes around them.

Just because we can increase the digits doesn’t mean we can see more clearly.

Wholesale and retail

Up close, face to face, in the specific, it’s difficult to dismiss the humanity of others.

It’s only when we decide to industrialize the process, to do it all at once, to boil it down to numbers–that’s when we begin to disconnect.

One at a time. Because it might feel like a slog to you, but it matters to them.

To stay the same

Willem de Kooning said, “I have to change to stay the same.”

Because whatever system we’re in is changing. Because every step we take changes the ground we walk on. Because while you’re busy trying to keep it all together, someone else is working just as hard to change it again.

Some organizations, artists and leaders work to disrupt and innovate.

And some seem content to close their eyes and will things to be exactly as they were yesterday or last year.

Between the innovator and the laggard, though, is most of us. Surfing and dancing with possibility, simply to continue to serve and keep our promises.

What you do isn’t how you do it. What you do is the promise you make to the people you serve. If the people change, then the specifics of your promise have to change as well.

[Thanks to Will for the quote.]

“That’s not fair”

When we say this, we might not be as accurate in our description of the situation as we believe.

Perhaps we mean, “that’s not what I was hoping for.”

Or we might mean, “if you knew how hard I worked, you would have made a different decision.”

Possibly, we mean, “if you understood the world the way I do, you’d agree that this outcome isn’t fair.”

We rarely complain about fairness when the world lines up the way we hope it will. Even (or especially) if the outcome was unfair to someone else.

There’s an enormous amount of unfairness all around us. People who don’t get the benefit of the doubt, advantages that are multiplied, systems that are rigged. But right here, right now, it’s possible that what just happened was fair, though it was also disappointing.

Good fences

Hand washing used to be controversial.

Before Ignaz Semmelweis did his groundbreaking work in proving that disease spread when doctors didn’t wash before and after treating patients, hygiene was ignored. In fact, it took decades for the system to change.

Today, of course, it’s understood that doctors, food service workers and everyone else ought to wash their hands to protect those around us. Doctors don’t wash their hands because they enjoy it, they do it because that’s what doctors do.

Disease evolves.

As it spreads from one person to another, a disease reproduces and has a chance to mutate. And those mutations create new problems, problems that we may be ill-equipped to deal with.

And disease is frightening. When it collides with culture, culture often demands we stand still. We stick with what we know, with what feels safe, with the status quo. Because to do otherwise means that we have to acknowledge that perhaps one day, the disease will win.

It’s easier to sell a new fashion or a sports team than it is to sell public health. Like most of the human challenges we face, it’s a marketing problem, a chance to use words and affiliation and possibility to create change.

There’s a long history of culture pushing back on the smart, generous, safe interventions that ultimately become standard. Because the status quo is the status quo precisely because it’s good at sticking around.

When we have a chance to make things better for the people we care about, we usually realize that this is exactly the thing we hope to do. But first, we need to see what our choices are based on and where they lead.

Conventional and famous

We can gain a lot of clarity if we insert the right words into daily conversation.

“That’s a good college,” is more accurately stated as, “that’s a famous college.”

Or perhaps, “That person is beautiful,” might be better as, “that person is conventionally beautiful.”

So many choices and measures seem obvious. But the obvious part might come from the fact that they are simply conventional and famous, not valid or useful.

Starting and finishing

Sometimes the rule is:

You don’t have to finish, but you do have to start.

And sometimes the rule is:

You don’t have to start, but if you do, you have to finish.

When building a personal habit, it might make sense to embrace the first rule. You don’t have to run all the way, every day, but you do have to get out of the house and start running.

And when making promises to a group where trust matters, the second rule definitely applies.

Denialism is not skepticism

Resolutely refusing to accept a conventional understanding is a statement of certainty.

That’s different from honest skepticism. The skeptic offers an open mind and is clear about what would be necessary to earn enthusiastic support.

The denialist, on the other hand, is sure. Now and forever. This certainty probably doesn’t come from the matter being discussed. Instead, it’s based on external factors, a story, a cultural connection, something that is fueled by the feeling that comes from refusing to examine the issue, not by honest inquiry.

Skepticism is gutsy, denialism is based on fear.