Thoughts & Ideas
On Greatness
v0.crap
- ââWriting, Brieflyââ
Shaped and reshaped
A distinct and complementary stance
But bulldozers move mountains
Argue against the best
Half-winged, half-imprisoned
Curiosity spurred on
From one Arte to another
The Innovation Funnel
The power of One
An Article by Kathy SierraIt's not teams that are the problem, it's the rabid insistence on teamwork. Group think. Committee decisions.
Most truly remarkable ideas did not come from teamwork. Most truly brave decisions were not made through teamwork. The team's role should be to act as a supportive environment for a collection of individuals. People with their own unique voice, ideas, thoughts, perspectives. A team should be there to encourage one another to pursue the wild ass ideas, not get in lock step to keep everything cheery and pleasant.
A bad tweet is like a deepfake of an idea
AÂ Fragment by Ryan BroderickI guess what youâre describing is like a tweet that hits the uncanny valley of good and bad in such a precise way, with such confidence, that it just pisses everybody off.
Because if you look at this tweet for just a second youâre like ok, thatâs a fine bedroom, but then you look at it, and it starts to unravel in your mind, like trying to remember a dream after you just woke up. And youâre like âwhat is this?â Itâs like a deepfake of a personâs face.
âŚOk, Iâve got some fire for you: A bad tweet is like a deepfake of an idea.
The perfect bad tweet is like something you read and youâre like âok yeahâ but then youâre like, âwaitâŚâ, and it just starts to come apart in your mind and youâre like that makes no fucking sense, just like this photo of this incredibly bad room.
The McDonaldâs Theory of Creativity
An Article by Jon BellI use a trick with co-workers when weâre trying to decide where to eat for lunch and no one has any ideas. I recommend McDonaldâs.
An interesting thing happens. Everyone unanimously agrees that we canât possibly go to McDonaldâs, and better lunch suggestions emerge. Magic!
Itâs as if weâve broken the ice with the worst possible idea, and now that the discussion has started, people suddenly get very creative. I call it the McDonaldâs Theory: people are inspired to come up with good ideas to ward off bad ones.
Eulogy for Steve Jobs
An Article by Jonathan IveHe was without doubt the most inquisitive human I have ever met. His insatiable curiosity was not limited or distracted by his knowledge or expertise, nor was it casual or passive. It was ferocious, energetic and restless. His curiosity was practiced with intention and rigor.
Many of us have an innate predisposition to be curious. I believe that after a traditional education, or working in an environment with many people, curiosity is a decision requiring intent and discipline.
In larger groups our conversations gravitate towards the tangible, the measurable. It is more comfortable, far easier and more socially acceptable talking about what is known. Being curious and exploring tentative ideas were far more important to Steve than being socially acceptable.
Our curiosity begs that we learn. And for Steve, wanting to learn was far more important than wanting to be right.
- ââSteve Jobsââ
Ideas behind their time
An Article by Tim HarfordThese days I am more interested in the reverse case [of Da Vinci's helicopter]: ideas that could have worked many centuries before they actually appeared. The economist Alex Tabarrok calls these âideas behind their timeâ
Curious minds want to know why these ideas appeared so late â and whether there might be anything that would prevent delays in future. One explanation is that the ideas arenât as simple as they appear.
The bicycle is not as straightforward an invention as it seems. To move from ox-hauled cart to human-powered bicycle requires smooth-rolling wheel bearings, which in turn need precisely engineered bearing balls. Modern steel ball bearings were not patented until the late 1700s, and demand from the 19th-century bicycle industry helped to improve their design.
Negative Creativity
An Article by Scott AlexanderComing up with entirely novel ideas is really, really hard.
Early work
An Essay by Paul GrahamImagine if we could turn off the fear of making something lame. Imagine how much more we'd do.
The Top Idea in Your Mind
An Essay by Paul GrahamI think most people have one top idea in their mind at any given time. That's the idea their thoughts will drift toward when they're allowed to drift freely. And this idea will thus tend to get all the benefit of that type of thinking, while others are starved of it. Which means it's a disaster to let the wrong idea become the top one in your mind.
The still life effect
AÂ Fragment by Paul GrahamIf you're going to spend years working on something, you'd think it might be wise to spend at least a couple days considering different ideas, instead of going with the first that comes into your head. You'd think. But people don't. In fact, this is a constant problem when you're painting still lifes. You plonk down a bunch of stuff on a table, and maybe spend five or ten minutes rearranging it to look interesting. But you're so impatient to get started painting that ten minutes of rearranging feels very long. So you start painting. Three days later, having spent twenty hours staring at it, you're kicking yourself for having set up such an awkward and boring composition, but by then it's too late.
A lightbulb is not an idea
An Article by Ralph AmmerWith conventional placeholders, such as words, we can describe patterns for a large number of situations. On the other hand it is easy to fool yourself (and others) with words, since you can avoid to be specific. Any business meeting can confirm this.
When you draw something you are forced to be specific â and honest.
Our illustration of an âideaâ from above is unconventional in the sense that it conveys specific original thoughts of what an idea is. It adds value to the words.
And that is the catch: The drawing must be unconventional to support the conventional words. We have to make sure not to use âwords in disguiseâ. Take a common illustration for âideaâ for example, which haunts flip charts all over the world: the lightbulb.
The lightbulb image works on a purely symbolic level, it only replaces the word âideaâ. This image of a household item contains no original thought about what an idea is. While symbols like these work well as international replacements for words or icons to indicate a light switch for instance, they convey no nutritional value as illustrations â they are empty.
You're Probably Using the Wrong Dictionary
As if a word were no more than coordinates
The New Oxford American dictionary, by the way, is not like singularly bad. Googleâs dictionary, the modern Merriam-Webster, the dictionary at dictionary.com: theyâre all like this. Theyâre all a chore to read. Thereâs no play, no delight in the language. The definitions are these desiccated little husks of technocratic meaningese, as if a word were no more than its coordinates in semantic space.
Another mind as alive as yours
In 1807, Webster started writing a dictionary, which he called, boldly, An American Dictionary of the English Language. He wanted it to be comprehensive, authoritative. Think of that: a man sits down, aiming to capture his language whole.
Dictionaries today are not written this way. In fact itâd be strange even to say that theyâre written. They are built by a large team, less a work of art than of engineering. When you read an entry you donât get the sense that a person labored at his desk, alone, trying to put the essence of that word into words. That is, you donât get a sense, the way you do from a good novel, that there was another mind as alive as yours on the other side of the page.
Websterâs dictionary took him 26 years to finish. It ended up having 70,000 words. He wrote it all himself, including the etymologies, which required that he learn 28 languages, including Old English, Gothic, German, Greek, Latin, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Welsh, Russian, Aramaic, Persian, Arabic, and Sanskrit. He was plagued by debt to fund the project; he had to mortgage his home.
A soft and fitful luster
Who decided that the American public couldnât handle âa soft and fitful lusterâ? I canât help but think something has been lost. âA soft sparkle from a wet or oily surfaceâ doesnât just sound worse, it actually describes the phenomenon with less precision. In particular it misses the shimmeriness, the micro movement and action, âthe fitful luster,â of, for example, an eye full of tears â which is by the way far more intense and interesting an image than âa wet sidewalk.â
Itâs as if someone decided that dictionaries these days had to sound like they were written by a Xerox machine, not a person, certainly not a person with a poetâs ear, a man capable of high and mighty English, who set out to write the secular American equivalent of the King James Bible and pulled it off.
Pathos
With its blunt authority the New Oxford definition of âpathosâ â âa quality that evokes pity or sadnessâ â shuts down the conversation, it shuts down your thinking about the word, while the Websterâs version gets your wheels turning: it seems so much more provisional â âthat which awakens tender emotions, such as pity, sorrow, and the like; contagious warmth of feeling, action, or expression; pathetic quality; as, the pathos of a picture, of a poem, or of a cryâ â and therefore alive.
Most important, it describes a word worth using: a mere six letters that have come to stand for something huge, for a complex meta-emotion with mythic roots. Such is the power of actual English.
An affection for words
Thereâs an amazing thing that happens when you start using the right dictionary. Knowing that itâs there for you, you start looking up more words, including words you already know. And you develop an affection for even those, the plainest most everyday words, because you see them treated with the same respect awarded to the rare ones, the high-sounding ones.
Which is to say you get a feeling about English that Calvin once got with his pet tiger on a day of fresh-fallen snow: âItâs a magical world, Hobbes. Letâs go exploring!â