I observed something fairly early on at Apple, which I didn’t know how to explain then, but I’ve thought a lot about it since. Most things in life have a dynamic range in which [the ratio of] “average” to “best” is at most 2:1.
For example, if you go to New York City and get an average taxi cab driver, versus the best taxi cab driver, you’ll probably get to your destination with the best taxi driver 30% faster. And an automobile; what’s the difference between the average car and the best? Maybe 20%? The best CD player versus the average CD player? Maybe 20%? So 2:1 is a big dynamic range for most things in life.
Now, in software, and it used to be the case in hardware, the difference between the average software developer and the best is 50:1; maybe even 100:1. Very few things in life are like this, but what I was lucky enough to spend my life doing, which is software, is like this.
So I’ve built a lot of my success on finding these truly gifted people, and not settling for “B” and “C” players, but really going for the “A” players. And I found something… I found that when you get enough “A” players together, when you go through the incredible work to find these “A” players, they really like working with each other. Because most have never had the chance to do that before. And they don’t work with “B” and “C” players, so it’s self-policing. They only want to hire “A” players. So you build these pockets of “A” players and it just propagates.
One should waste as little effort as possible on improving areas of low competence. It takes far more energy and work to improve from incompetence to mediocrity than it takes to improve from first-rate performance to excellence.
(1) Record your work as notes to your future self and colleagues.
Write notes so that someone fifty years from now (or more) will understand and be able to use the factual information you collected, perhaps for purposes quite different from the original reasons.
Clearly separate facts from interpretations so these are not confusing to a future reader.
(2) Establish a clear and consistent notebook format and process.
I always include the data, place, main activities or events, weather conditions, and other people involves. The day, month, and year is the most important link between that particular point in time and other people’s records, separate data sheets that I filled out myself, photos, and most important, collected specimens.
Documenting collecting strategies and protocols receives special attention. In the moment, these may seem like common knowledge for the field team, so sometimes no one bothers to write them out.
(3) Don’t lose your field records!
(4) Pack a camera, create a visual record.
No matter how many words you write to describe a fossil locality, you can’t beat an actual photo, taken on the spot, annotated in pen, and pasted into your notebook.
There is no substitute for a photograph you actually mark in “real time” in the field as the best way to preserve a lasting, accurate record for yourself, or for someone who has never seen the site or object in question.
(5) Learning through sketches and diagrams.
Photographs are great, but drawn what you see is a more powerful way to learn about spatial patterns and relationships.
Even if you are not an expert at drawing, you can make sketches that are much more informative than words would be.
Always include a scale, an orientation, and labels in your diagrams.