Defying (organizational) gravity

Generally speaking, the more people that get added to a company, the harder it is to increase productivity. Put another way, as you add people there are diminishing returns to productivity. This feels like a law of physics, like it was gravity or something.

One of my favorite recent thought experiments is imagining what an organization would have to do to get increasing returns to productivity as company size increases instead.

How insanely different would that be? People would have to spend so much more of their energy improving and helping each other. And, there would have to be so much emphasis on customers and what they find valuable.

The biggest difference would have to be management. Individuals would have to have tremendously more autonomy to make decisions faster, which would probably require much up-front work to vividly articulate a vision that everyone understood well enough to be an agent of.

It would take recruitment that asks not what person fills the spec needed for a job, but rather what person does a job in a way that makes everybody better.

Literally everything would have to be different.  

To be clear, this is all within the realm of possibility, to at least try. But it requires not running companies the way we’ve always ran them, because we’ve always run them that way. It requires thinking of companies differently than org charts and hierarchies.

The traditional way of thinking about companies and management is so ingrained it seems impossible to do have anything different.

Defying gravity seems impossible until you do it. 

We are capable people

My father, who would’ve celebrated his 68th birthday if he were alive today, would always tell me that I was a very capable person. It left an impact on me; I can still hear his voice saying it. It’s refuge I retreat to when I feel capable of nothing. 

Nobody ever comments about what our generation, millennials, are capable of. And I don’t think we were destined to save the world, but I think we are capable of something equally important.  

What I think is interesting about how we grew up is that we saw the before and after of a lot of changes, right as we came of age.

We saw both sides of 9/11. We saw both sides of the internet and social media. We saw both sides of the Great Recession. We saw both sides of online dating. We saw both sides of globalization. We saw both sides of climate change. And on and on.

And because of that we understand keenly what can be and what should be. We’ve lived it. 

Before a change in culture, someone has to take a stand and say, it doesn’t have to be this way, it can be different. And taking that stand is really hard, and takes tremendous courage. Because to change a culture requires going up against years, maybe decades of momentum the other way. 

I think we are capable of taking that stand, sharing our vision of what the culture could be, and clearing a path for the change to happen.  That seems trivial, but it’s really quite significant.  We are capable people. 

Moving on from work-related resentment

I’ve already spent too much of my life angry, anxious, or ashamed about work. It’s time to move on. The best way I know to move on is to forgive.

I don’t know who “you” are in all instances, but I forgive you. I forgive you for the late nights away from home. I forgive you for the bogus deadlines and useless meetings. I forgive you for treating me with less respect because of my age, role, or race. I forgive you for the implicit threats of public shaming and demerits. 

I forgive you for making me believe career was an idol to be worshipped. I forgive you for pushing me past my breaking point. I forgive you for giving me work that didn’t have any real value. I forgive you for constantly changing the plan. I forgive you for making me feel foolish, small, and sometimes without worth.

I forgive you for misleading the client. I forgive you for holding the team to unreasonable expectations. I forgive you for pandering to the boss at the cost of our weekends. I forgive you for the flight delays. 

I forgive you for lying through your teeth at recruitment events. I forgive you for thinking I was soft. I forgive you for pressuring me to be someone I’m not. I forgive you for laying off my Pops, who was an honest man, a hard worker, and a damn good engineer.  

I forgive you for making me lust after a bigger paycheck. I forgive you for inflating my ego. I forgive you for implying that I was fooling myself about the data. I forgive you for making me miss bedtime, so many times.  

I forgive you for taking credit for someone else’s work. I forgive you for throwing me under the bus, even though I never did you wrong. I forgive you for messing up my check. I forgive you for my MBA debt. 

Most of all, I forgive you for taking my joy from me, over and over again. I’m grateful that you let me have it back, eventually.

I’ve been in the workforce for 10 years, and I’ve had a difficult relationship with American work culture the whole way. I’m tired of fighting you and being angry. This is the best way I could think of to start moving on. 

Whoever you are, wherever you are, I forgive you.  

I’ve gotta be in my brother’s business

I’m pretty skeptical of the idea that “it’s none of my business.”  It’s a cop out. 

On the one hand, it is admirable that the phrase conveys a sentiment of not judging. If it’s none of my business, I’m forgoing my ability to judge you for how you've handled your business. 

On the other hand, I’m also letting myself off the hook. If I care about you, when you are struggling or behaving in a way that doesn’t reflect your values, it ought to be my business to help you get back to being your best self. If I’m not in my brother’s business, I’ve got a loophole out of being my brother’s keeper.

So we have a choice. If I say “it’s none of my business”, I’m telling you that I'm not going to judge you. But if I say “it’s none of my business” I’m also saying that I’m not your brother nor your keeper. 

The family I would’ve wanted to be born into

We don’t choose our parents. Obviously. The family we’re born into is something we have no choice about.  

But what if we did have a choice? What would a family you opted into be like?  Here’s what it’d be for me. 

They’d get along and love each other. They’d be honest. They’d get along with their neighbors and extended family. They’d be wealthy enough to not have to worry about money, or have to be apart to make ends meet like my parents had to. They wouldn’t be super wealthy though, because that would probably mean that one parent spent a lot of time working.

They’d do fun stuff together. They’d eat healthy and exercise. They’d let me be myself. They’d have a few siblings and a dog. They’d love me unconditionally. They’d put family first. They’d treat other people with respect and kindness.

I suppose it wouldn’t be that different than the family I was born into. 

I don’t understand why anyone would want to have a family that kept up with the Jones’s or was really career focused. It could be just me, but that’s precisely not the type of family I’d want to be born into.

I also don’t understand when “people” talk about equality and equity they imply an equality in folks’ ability to be economically rich. Why is that the type of equality we’d want to solve for? 

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe my conception of the family I’d want to be born into, and in turn create with Robyn, is an uncommon viewpoint.  

I spend a lot of time thinking about death and the sort of life I want to live. Losing a parent early and suddenly has made me think like an old man gripping onto life preciously, much earlier than I would have. And stopping murders and shootings puts death on my mind literally every day. It changes a man’s heart.

If my conception of family is not unique, however, living a life focused on money and power must be easier somehow, otherwise nobody would do it.  I seriously don’t get it.

“Kids have the courage to do hard things when they’re little, how do we shake it out of them?”​

“Kids have the courage to do hard things when they’re little, how do we shake it out of them?” 

Mark, a good friend from Ross, and I discussed this question for minute over dinner with his business partner. 

His colleague thought competition may have a negative effect because it often breeds fear. Robyn pointed out to me this morning that the way we approach schooling is to achieve obedience instead of exploration.

It occurred to me just now that a parent can have a mindset of “what do I want my kid to be able to do” vs “in what ways do I want my kid to grow”.

My guess is that if a parent has the former mindset, it probably makes it harder to grow courage. The latter is probably a mindset that encourages courage.  

On the question of why some kids lose courage as they age, what do you think?

How’d you do it?

Papa, 

That’s what our boy calls me now. I hadn’t said it out loud since you went ahead. It feels natural, like I was born for it. It has a nice ring to it, too.

I’m thinking of you today. I’m stuck in an airport and I’m going to miss story time. I’m having a hard time keeping it together. I think the bartender noticed, and luckily he’s very kind. 

Pudi’s getting married in a month. That’s why I was away - in Montreal. It was his bachelor party (don’t worry, I behaved. I always do, especially now). I think you would like that place, because it is quiet, people are friendly, and there is water. I can’t remember if you’ve been there.  Maybe Ma will know. I guess it doesn’t really matter now.

I have been wanting to ask you a question. As I sit here, I’m a wreck and only because I’m going to miss story time. That’s a good reason, I guess. But still, it’s a small moment in life. 

How’d you do it?  

You overcame so much in your life. You persisted through some of the hardest challenges I’ve ever heard of. You were a good man, an honest man, the whole way. Your capacity to sacrifice - what I’m starting to see as the noblest of all virtues - was seemingly limitless.

How’d you do it? 

You were so devoted, until the very last day of your life. You hardly ever let me down, especially on things that really mattered. And you never let me off the hook either. Even still, I feel like I’m learning lessons from you.

How’d you do it? 

And on top of all this, I didn’t even know you were molding me, shaping me. You made me think I did it myself. You never took a curtain call, never allowed anyone to give you credit. 

I feel like an imposter sometimes, like I missed getting that gene. Especially on days like today, where I feel like something so small is making me crumble.

But you just did it Pops. How? 

Wish you were here, 

Neil

Letting love in

I’ve been away from home (Robyn, Bo, Riley) more than I ever have over the past two weeks. It has been difficult, and at times excruciating. I miss them terribly. I think that’s a common feeling for many of us who are partners, husbands, and fathers.

Fortunately, the solitude has helped me learn a lesson about matters of the heart.  

I used to think it was dangerous to feel this way - to allow my own peace to be tied to someone else’s ability to fill up my heart and soul.

But I think maybe that’s the wrong way to ponder the question.  

Maybe what’s dangerous is not dependence on who fills our heart, but who opens it. If we are able to open our heart ourselves, why not let it be filled with love and peace from wherever it comes? 

This idea, of course, is predicated on the assumption that our hearts will be filled if we open them up. I’ve found that to be true, even from unexpected places or from unlikely or unknown people. Even when I’m far away from home - the universe has a way of filling our hearts if only we let it.

How we learn to open our hearts, especially when we are away from those we have the greatest intimacy with is hard.

I don’t have a great answer on how to do this. The best I can think of is to share what is in our heart.

If we share our heart - say in prayer, contemplation, self-expression, or intimate conversation - our heart is forced to open let those thoughts and feelings out. Once that happens, all we must do is keep our heart open long enough to let love in.

That moment between when my heart is opened and when it is filled is scary. It takes trust and is risky. But the alternative is keeping our heart closed. The risk is worth it. 

Mirrors and friends

“Eternity” (2014) by Montreal-based artist Nicolas Baier @ Aresenal Contemporary gallery in Montreal.  

To see ourselves clearly and fully, we need mirrors or the help of others.  

If we use a mirror, it mustn’t be warped. If we seek the help of others they mustn’t lie to us. 

That means, then, to see ourselves clearly and fully we must be committed to the craft of reflection and the craft of building trusting, intimate relationships.

Which implies that it is also an important craft to help others with the previous two. 

Character Muscles

I have come to think of character as a muscle that has to be built with exercises and training rather than a a deeply embedded trait that we have or we don’t.

If we build those character muscles up, we’ll have the strength of character, so to speak, to make the “heavy lift” when right thoughts and actions are hard to do.  

But just like when lifting something heavy, character doesn’t involve a single muscle. Rather I see character as having a few “major muscle” groups that need to be developed to be able to make the heavy lift of right thought and action. 

Those muscle groups are curiosity, courage, and persistence. As I see them at least.

Curiosity gets us to learn about character and whether we have it - a quest with little extrinsic motivators. Courage gets us to do the hard work of transforming ourselves - because we will inevitably find that we are not perfectly good if we are curious. Persistence gives us the endurance to stick with the hard work of transforming ourselves - which never happens overnight.

The way I figure it, if we can intentionally develop these three muscle groups - curiosity, courage, and discipline - we will have the strength of character needed to do the right thing, even when it is heavy. 

The key question is how.  

I hope they’re wrong

I am on a business trip right now, and I miss my wife. And my son, and my pup too.

When the conversation comes up, I say to my colleagues, “It’s really hard to be away from my family for so long.”

And folks will kindly suggest that I’m a newlywed and a new father. That the feeling of longing will wear off, and that I’m still influenced by the newness of these relationships. And that in a few years, I’ll look forward to business trips or nights off or some other kind of time away from them.

And they may be right, but I hope they’re wrong. Right now, being away for even one day is too long, and I hope it stays that way.  

It’s hard to be the yogurt

Being Indian, I have seen how yogurt is made, up close. My parents would make it at home. Here’s how it works.  

First you put milk in a vessel. Then, you take a spoon of yogurt (you need the live culture to start the reaction) and put it in the vessel. Then you add gentle heat to the vessel; my parents always used a yogurt maker.

Then you give it time. The heat helps the culture from the spoonful of yogurt react with the milk. Eventually the milk becomes yogurt. 

This is how culture change really works. A new active idea enters a stable environment, and slowly changes it over time. This is harder than it sounds.

Culture change requires steady heat. In organizations, this equates to a leadership team that allows change to happen and provides the time and money to support it.  

You also need the spoonful of yogurt with its strand of active culture. In organizations, this is the change agent that’s willing to be different for a long time, slowing changing the environment to something new, one interaction at a time.

It’s hard to be the yogurt. But for the culture to change, someone has to be.  

Becoming good / Leg day

Philosophy isn’t enough. Arguments about hypothetical moral dilemmas aren’t enough. Biographies of people living exemplary, moral lives aren’t enough either.  

I need, and I think we all need specifics. Like athletes, I think we need training regimens as if our character were made up of muscle groups to be worked on with specific exercises.

The funny thing is, I love reading moral philosophy, arguments, and case studies. In fact, I need those ideas to push my own. But after all this time thinking and writing letters to my son about goodness, they aren’t enough. 

I’m bad at most things, okay at some things, and good at a few. But this one idea, might be what my voice was made for.  

I really, really believe we’re missing something when we talk about becoming better people. It’s not just about what is right and wrong, it’s about becoming. For us in the real world, the becoming is the whole ball game.

Becoming, in any domain, requires deliberate practice. The question is what do we practice? What are the exercises that strengthen our character? And why does it matter?

I think of curiosity, courage, and persistence as the three major muscle groups that make up our character. But how do we cultivate those three characteristics within us and within others?

That’s what I’ve been working on figuring out for almost two years now. And, I can’t wait to share it more.

The shortcut isn’t worth it

If I am happy. If I am thriving, or at peace, what’s the point if it’s just me? What’s the point if my family or my homies aren’t there with me? Or if my neighbors aren’t there, either, in that state of peace and contentment? 

How can I really be satisfied if I’ve left someone behind? On the contrary, it eats at me to see other people, my people, suffer. That feeling, however, brings with it a ton of effort, stress, and responsibility.

That belief requires explanation and defense, but for now, I’ll just own it as my own feeling. 

Admittedly, there is a shortcut. A shortcut to avoid the feeling of guilt and ownership when we’ve made it to a state of peace and our people haven’t. A shortcut around the giving of ourselves to others. A bypass of the sacrifice and hard work for the community. A secret passage that circumvents our responsibility to the world around us. 

That shortcut? Making the tribe around us smaller. Reducing the people we expose ourselves to, and cutting out those that require more from us. Favoring the folks that make us comfortable, cool, and wealthy, and avoiding the others. 

The shortcut is ignorance and exclusion. And that may make our lives easier for awhile because it reduces who and what we are responsible for. But in the long run it costs us love, meaning, and perhaps a bit of our souls. Ignorance and exclusion may shelter us from doing difficult deeds and having difficult feelings, but is that really a life worth living?

I’m not yet at a point where my heart is big enough to wrap it around the whole world. And I’m not suggesting we’re all failures if we don’t become brothers of all humanity.

But our choice is if our ethos will be to expand our hearts wider or close them off. Over the course of a lifetime, that choice makes a very big difference in what we, and our world, become. 

Learning to smell

I didn’t dawn on me until we had Bo, that I didn’t grow up, per se, I was bred. To go to college, to get a job, to get money and status. Bred to get the next thing.

I think a lot of us were.  

That was fine, save for the lonliness. And then I met Robyn, and I had a reason to stop and smell the roses.  

Except, I didn’t know how to stop, nor how to smell them. I think that’s why sometimes the emotions I get when I am with my family, close friends, and extended family are so wonderful, but almost painful. Overwhelming.

But it doesn’t have to be my family, it could be something smaller - a sunrise, a song, a quiet moment, a deep breath. Those are roses too.

The smell of the roses is just so beautiful. It’s so joyful. It’s so special. I never knew.

I don’t know how to handle these very strong emotions because I never started learning how, until we met - I’d say I’m still learning actually.  

Better late than never. Much better late in fact, just hard and lots of tears. 

Finding Nemo, Role Reversal

I went for a run his afternoon. And when I came back, Robyn, Bo, and Riley had Finding Nemo on. It was right at the jellyfish scene as I entered the family room. 

About two minutes ago, right when the pelican tells Nemo how his dad is crossing the ocean to find him, it hit me.

I used to watch this movie from Nemo’s perspective. Now, I can’t help but watching it from his father’s. The roles have reversed, and it’s honestly a very different movie to watch this way. The shape of a father’s heart is different than a son’s.

I guess that’s growing up. 

Do you meditate? I’m becoming a true believer.

In a very short time, meditation has significantly improved my life. As you may have read, the past few years of my life have felt dark. I was lucky Robyn thought of and let me start using her Glo subscription so that I could take app-based meditation classes. 

Now my mind is clearer, I sleep better, and my anxious and depressive tendencies are slowly moderating. I’ve been more responsive and attentive with my family. I even have better digestion.

I was only slightly surprised to find there’s a growing body of research that validates the benefits of meditation I’ve been feeling myself. In the social sciences we often say there’s no “silver bullet”, but meditation is as close to one as I’ve ever found.

My interest in meditation actually started as a job-related pursuit - I’ve been contemplating whether meditation could be an antidote to gun violence. If a community meditated at scale, and had less overall stress, would it reduce shootings? I think it might.

But I want to learn more about meditation and meet more folks first. Do you have a meditation story? Do you know folks who are true believers in meditation? What do you think about meditation?

The 5x rule for leading innovation

During my time working on innovative and transformational projects at DPD, I’ve come to learn something new.  

When doing something innovative in an organization, we have to communicate (and listen) 5 times more, with 5 times as many people, and 5 times more clearly than we originally think we need to.

Bringing people along with something new and different takes much more emotional labor and communication than we think.

I’d add, this is probably also true for marriage, raising kids, and anything else new and difficult that’s worth doing.  

Simple Prayer

Thank you for today. Thank you for Robyn, Robert, and Riley. Thank you for our parents and our siblings. Thank you for our extended family and our friends. Thank you for our home, our neighbors, and the strangers who treat us with kindness.  

Only a simple prayer today. Please, God, watch over us and give us as much time together as you can.  

Radical change requires radical action

When it comes to changing a culture, I often consider depth and magnitude.

To change a culture the magnitude of the intervention we must make is inversely proportional to how deeply ingrained the feature we are changing is to the culture. The closer to the core you are, the less provocative the tweak has to be, and vice versa.

That’s why changing defaults from opt-in to opt out greatly affected rates for organ donation, and why changing behavior with ads often costs a lot of money.

It’s a given that radical change requires radical action - I learned that from Charlie, someone I met recently. A key question for us as change agents is which dimension it’s best to be radical on.