Archives for category: General

In business these days, and especially in fast-moving industries, it rarely pays to compromise. Compromise in my view is not BATNA, the Best Alternative To a Negotiated Agreement. No-one’s happy when you compromise. Both parties end up sharing the middle ground – results-wise – of mediocrity and missed opportunities.

Life and work should be about doing your absolute best and not settling for your second best work. What’s the point otherwise? It’s no longer enough to be ‘good enough’, because that’s not going to last ‘long enough’.

I was reminded of this fact the other day when I went to the gym. Three things happened that made me think of the folly of compromise.

Firstly, our gym is on the first floor, on the floor above the changing room and the pool. It’s two flights of stairs, and there is also a lift to the first floor to access the hotel rooms, for elderly, disabled or heavily laden residents. I saw someone about my age taking the lift. Up to the gym, and down again later. Defeating the object of exercise surely?

Secondly, there are two banks of treadmills.  On one treadmill I saw a guy walking slowly. On his mobile. While he was walking, which was pretty slow given how distracted he was. Could he be making less of an effort, short of stopping altogether?

Thirdly, the gym happened to be playing a collection of really good dance tracks, presumably to help with motivation and atmosphere. Except that each track was a cover version, and a pretty poor imitation at that. Talk about ruining the user experience.

If you compromise, on effort for convenience, or on quality for reducing cost, you make it harder to get to your target, which is a happier customer, co-worker, friend or family member. Or a happier you.

Where would we be without lateral thinkers? Nowhere, probably. I would imagine all of the major secrets of the universe – electricity, flight, trigonometry etc – have been unlocked by some dedicated soul, who, having exhausted the 99% perspiration embarks on a ‘gee, I wonder if I approached it from this completely different angle, what might happen?’

Take something that the vast majority of us have the good fortune to take for granted, seeing. I have always considered is something active, that we do to an object to see it. But no, some clever sausage figured out that it’s a passive thing, that the eye absorbs all the visual stimuli, and the retina, rods and cones do the rest.

That ability to genuinely think laterally, to think outside the box as the business world has coined for the last two decades, is a really rare phenomenon. It requires us to consciously abandon the traditional patterns of thought that have governed how we operate in the world since childhood, and come at things from a new direction.

For forty years Edward de Bono has pioneered – and I believe originated the name of – lateral thinking. I remember attending a talk by EdB along with a few hundred other paying guests in Dublin around the turn of the century. By the way, since 14 years have elapsed since the new millennium, I think we’re now at liberty to use the phrase ‘turn of the century’ without appearing overly dramatic. Mr de Bono eschewed the lure of powerpoint and used a rolling film of acetate where he scribbled his line-drawn illustrations before winding each drawing from sight, ready for the next clean canvas and blindingly new example of creative thinking.

This man’s work is nowhere near as theoretical as you might think, and he had dozens of examples of how he and his team had been retained by governments and corporations to solve some problem or other. His solutions were so left field that you were left breathless by the degree to which they put in stark relief how blinkered your own thinking was up until now. One example was a Swiss canton who wanted to solve a town parking problem where they didn’t want to use meters or police the parking, but they didn’t want folk abandoning their cars for hours on end either. The solution? All you had to do when you parked was leave your headlights on.  Come back a couple of hours later and you risked a flat battery. Genius!

The business world has tried to adopt this approach of inspirationally cutting the Gordian Knot, with things like moderated ‘brainstorming’ sessions. With good reason too. We need these lateral thinkers, and these laterally thought out solutions, to keep turning the screw.

The title of this post is one of those phrases that seems to have been around for ages. It’s the sort of thing your Granny might have said to encourage you to have more patience. ‘All in its own good time’ is another beauty that people trot out.

Well of course there’s a time and a place for everything, otherwise it wouldn’t exist! What the phrase means for me is that the time and place has to be right for it to have its full effect. It has to be the right intersection of the two dimensions – temporal and spatial.

At the same time, this all feels a bit passive, defeatist almost. It’s as if you can’t control your destiny, you just have to wait for the gods or ducks to be aligned before something good happens. Do you want to be someone who makes things happen, or someone that things happen to?

As the business gurus are fond of saying: if you can’t predict the future, create it. And there’s definitely a time and a place for that. Yours.

Don’t you hate it when someone younger than you tells you that?

Of course age is just a number, but it’s also an indication of wear and tear, capacity to do work, and recuperative ability. You can’t escape its inexorable march. You can stay in shape and retard the ravages of time, but you ain’t gonna stop the bus.

The other day I was at the gym, participating in a 6-week program to inject some variety into my regime. One of the routines was a lung-bursting blast for 3 agonising minutes. ‘Do you know how old I am?’ I said to the instructor. With a full head’s height advantage, and probably two decades of credit on me, he looked down and smiled, ‘Age is just a number Paul.’

‘True,’ I offered, ‘but in my case it’s a bloody big number.’

He remained unmoved, and we did the drill.

That’s the trouble with youth. Wasted on the young.

When I sit on a London-bound train and don’t want to shut the world away and write, like I’m doing right now, I like to soak up the ambience of my train carriage and home in on some of the mobile conversations that the less discrete business people tend to have after their meetings in the UK’s capital.

As well as the standard business shorthand phrases like ‘food for thought’, ‘keep moving forward’, ‘in this together’ etc. I usually have this unexplainable – as opposed to inexplicable – feeling of sadness wash over me. Not because I want to work where they work, but because of the inherent unproductiveness of big society where a mass of people mills around like atoms in a pan of boiling water.

All these people travel together with strangers into the big city, head to their specific meeting with their customer, partner or supplier, conduct their business, scurry back to their travel hub and head back home. They use the journey back for follow-up calls, post mortems, problems, solutions and actions, all within earshot and sight of another band of strangers.

And that, for me, is the modern big city: a vast collection of people on the move, in between things, trying desperately to minimise their A to B time and expenses. Whole industries built around a state of perpetual transience.

The promise of the Internet is that it can bring us together in ways that the phone never could do. Despite the advantages that the face to face element of Skype and video conferencing delivers, nothing has yet replaced the physical meeting as the pinnacle of human interaction and collaboration.

And hence the sadness. We crave interaction from our fellow humans, yet meeting them is all so inefficient. Teleportation would be extremely handy, but in the absence of that, I always wonder if there is a better way to co-ordinate these millions of criss-crossing journeys.

I think when I get back to my home office I’m going to stew on that and not come out until I have fixed it. Or in case someone wants to see me for a meeting

I was visiting my uncle the other day.  He’s about 143 and frail but his mind is razor sharp and he has locked away about a thousand jokes that he draws from regularly. Here are two of them.

Number 1

Patient: Doctor, give me the bad news then the good news.

Doctor: There’s only bad news and worse news.

Patient: OK, I’ll take the bad news then the worse news.

Doctor: The bad news is you’ve 24 hours to live.  The worse news is I forgot to tell you yesterday…

Number 2

Friend 1: See these yellow pills? I’ve got to take 1 a day for the rest of my life.

Friend 2: That’s not so bad, is it?

Friend 1: They’ve only given me 3…

🙂

For me, dear reader, the natural cadence of this blog is a post every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It’s what I’ve stuck to since the first post.

My posts are fairly short and take a minute or two to read at most. Three times during the working week feels like the right balance between intrusion into your productive time and making enough of a regular connection. Consistency is one of the my key tenets, and I don’t know about you but I find wading through a monster of a post once a week a bit of an ordeal. Plus, you get the weekend off for good behaviour.

Three posts a week is something that I feel I can continue to commit to as my part of the bargain. I don’t feel I can stretch to the daily dose of epic content that Mr Seth Godin has been bestowing upon us for more than a handful of years. I’m not a full-time writer, nowhere near as brilliant, and I don’t have the resources.

It doesn’t really matter what I think though. It’s your view that counts, since you’re consuming the output. Otherwise I might just as well paint a masterpiece and lock it in my basement.

I’d be delighted to hear how you feel about the frequency of posts, privately or via the blog. And the content of them for that matter.

Thanks for reading :-).

When in our business or working lives are we at our most productive?

Is it in our 20’s when we’re single and can travel the world? Is it in our 30’s when we have the energy and the focus? Is it in our 40’s when we have the experience to work smart? What about in our 50’s when we have the seniority and gravitas?

In most working environments we tend to be – or are at the very east hoping to be – tapering our work commitments and efforts in our 60’s, yet as is well documented, a constantly increasing section of the global population is working for longer. As the population shifts and it becomes increasingly unsustainable for the younger working people to support the funds that the older retired people draw from, so the retirement age increases and the state pension reduces.

For my generation, with the exception of those who have won the lotto, hit the jackpot, or robbed a bank, the equation is obvious. Take slightly older parents of kids who will probably go to college, add a couple doses of pension fund and property value collapses, and you have a retirement age of at least 70. Ouch.

As a man whose father retired at 50, it comes to me as something of a shock, I don’t mind telling you.

What this means is that the bell curve of productivity is going to have to move significantly to the right – where age is on the x axis – in order for the macro sums to add up. In terms of our age, just like in business, this means that our personal Q3 is going to have to be a big one. Even our Q4 too, if we live that long. What we have against us of course is our age and our dwindling physical and mental capacities. Failing this fairly crude maths coming up trumps, something fundamental is going to have to change in society and how we work.

I’m not downbeat though. I think technology will continue to help us save time, save energy, and reduce distances. It will change the game, invent new paradigms, banish the old ways of doing things, and any other cliché you can’t think of.

I don’t know how it will, but it will, it has to. If I did know, I’d be retiring in Q2…

Our American friends are very good at making every moment count. Far from wallowing in the past or wishing their lives away until some happy event in the future, they encourage us to capitalise on what is current. Hence the familiar phrases like ‘being in the moment’ and ‘living for now’. This resonates in sports and is also especially true for business these days, when the emphasis is, quite rightly, on execution. You can only execute on the present tense; you can’t execute in the past or future.

That said, imagine what kind of a world it is for those people for whom there is only the present tense. There are millions of people with varying conditions of what is essentially an eternal limbo. Long term memory is OK for many, but for the majority the short term memory evaporates. Think about what this means.

There is no recent past. The couple of grand you spent on last week’s holiday, or yesterday’s dinner with friends, or this afternoon’s sports match are gone, as if they never happened. There is no future. You’re not looking forward to the weekend, because within a few minutes of being reminded of the delights in store, you’ve forgotten them.

You are literally in the moment, constantly, fleetingly, living from moment to moment. Do you even try to enjoy every moment to its fullest? Probably not, because you have to remember to do that…

I don’t have any wisdom or answers to offer here. But I do have a question:

If the present really was all you had, would you execute better on your work lives, social lives and family lives? Would you check out, or would you do your best every time? Here’s to option 2…

I mentioned in a previous post how the teachers and mentors you have in your younger years have a major influence on how you develop as an individual. I think that’s also true of your managers and your working life. With that in mind, and continuing this week’s theme of paying people back with thanks during the holiday season, I share with you here the great managers I’ve had in my 15 years in the tech sector.

There’s a saying that you should never manage anyone who’s older than you. Many of the ones below have successfully debunked that myth.

In more or less chronological order:

Jim Maher, former CEO of Allfinanz. A man who knew how to take the right risks, and was never afraid of walking away from a bad deal, Jim took a gamble on a guy untested in the tech space. I think he feels it was worth the risk.

Jonathan Gale, formerly Sales VP of MessageLabs, now part of the behemoth that is Symantec. Extremely able head of sales who took me on to manage a new service – and a new departure – for the company. Now heading up New Voice Media.

Stephen Millard, formerly Marketing VP of MessageLabs. Stephen started my career in product marketing. An excellent manager who understood intimately that management was about finding the right balance between delegating and guiding.

Gary Thomassen, formerly Direct of Product Management and Marketing at MessageLabs. Another first-rate manager and that rare breed who understood that you can pretty much leave specialists to themselves when they’re armed with their objectives.

Donal Daly, founder and CEO of The TAS Group. There is pretty much nothing that this chap can’t do better than you in your own field of expertise within his business. Sickeningly gifted and visionary.

York Baur, formerly CMO at The TAS Group. Immensely knowledgeable across a panoply of subjects, and infinitely patient and gracious on the regular occasions that his decision was a better one than yours. A huge fan of NASCAR, but hey, no-one’s perfect.

Paul Watson, formerly CEO at Star Technology Group. Living proof that nice guys do finish first, Paul has managed a number of projects that I helped him with as a consultant. Another extremely shrewd guy who excels at getting the best – which is not the same as the most – out of his people.

Andrew Norman, Director of Sales and Marketing at eSellerPro. With a dauntingly broad remit, Norms still finds the time to be a superb manager of people, whether they are staff, contractors or partners. One to look out for.

There’s eight of the best for you.  If you too have worked for one of them, you’ll know what I mean.