Accidental Social Capital and Status

 

I was made aware recently that I have accidentally acquired some interesting social status: I’m not on Facebook. Apparently, it isn’t just that I’m not on Facebook, its that I’ve never had a Facebook account. I’ve also never had accounts with:

  •  MySpace
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • TikTok
  • Pinterest
  • Snapchat
  • Reddit
  • Parler
  • The list goes on and on.

I am fairly active on LinkedIn and for a brief time had a Gab account after it first launched. The latter looked like another cesspool in the making so I deleted the account and moved on.

Acquiring this status wasn’t entirely accidental, even if it wasn’t by design. It was clear early on that the only way to win the race to the bottom of the social-on-line game was to not play at all. I’d seen this movie before. I had some experience with this environment in the pre-world-wide-web days of USENET newsgroups so it was pretty easy to see where this was heading. Thought I’d seen some epic flame wars on USENET but USENET newsgroups are to 21st century social media as camp fires are to nuclear explosions, as head colds are to social diseases.

I’m not so naive to think just because I don’t participate in the vast majority of social media that others haven’t contributed data about me without my knowledge or consent nor that I’m immune to the effects of social media. It’s that nuclear explosion thing. I can’t help but be aware of the blast and getting caught in the blast zone, even being targeted for the epicenter are known risks. While zillions of people are blithely working to feed The Beast’s insatiable need for data in exchange for nano hits of dopamine, my efforts are focused on how to avoid the growing tar pit that oozes from The Beast. I study how others have inadvertently been lured into the hot mess and, even more valuable, those few who have successfully wrestled themselves free.

Neither do I think social media is devoid of value or purpose. This is where LinkedIn (so far) seems to rise above the base rabble. There is a modicum of professionalism and elevated expectation of how one behaves on LinkedIn. (Although, I see signs of this eroding at an accelerated pace.)

As I see it, there is no way I can reliably cash in on this newly acquired social capital and status. It’s value is dubious. A small-talk starter at parties. A novelty. A non-thing that’s interesting like not having purple hair, tattoos, and a pierced face is interesting. To really leverage it, I’d have to jump into the social media quagmire, thereby emptying the account or, more likely, go into serious debt. In the end, carefully curated piles of garbage are still garbage.

So there it sits. A helluva thing, maybe valuable only as a note on my headstone.

Here rests Gregory Engel.
@nothing, @nowhere
He lived in the real world.

Fall Reflections – 2021

Over four years ago, I was in a position to retire early. After some thought, the idea didn’t suit me. I was, in the arc of my life, in an entirely novel position. I could be much more selective about where I chose to exchange my time for money. With nothing to lose and a lot to gain, I sought work with a company that would put Agile principles and my coaching skills to a rigorous test. Did I have what it takes to guide a global legacy corporation into an Agile learning organization? I ran this experiment within the software divisions of two different medical device manufacturers. The first was a 6 month engagement that ended when a better option opened up at a much larger manufacturer with more pay and less commute. I was there for three years until a layoff in the spring.

So it is I’ve come to wrapping up an extremely active spring and summer after having tripped a wire that launched me into a career shift about six months earlier than planned – a span of time I’m affectionately calling an unplanned sabbatical. I’m still not ready to retire, but I’m in an even stronger position then I was four years ago – the silent advantage of a Stoic minimalist lifestyle. Shedding the corporate baggage has opened up a universe of space and time for unfettered thought and exploration. Sabbaticals should be integrated into the work lives of every employee who demonstrates integrity and a strong work ethic.

In the coming months, I’ll be writing more about what this new direction involves. A change in direction doesn’t begin to capture the shift. There’s a multi-leveling up in play, too. This fall and winter – seasons ideally suited for deep reflection and planning – will see a continued pace of activity and preparation. Belying the quite stillness of winter, I will be extremely busy moving fieldstones into position and crafting a renewed foundation for success.

The purpose and mission I declared at the very beginning of 2020 is still in place. When I crafted that mission I was at the very beginning of a grand experiment, full of optimism and yet fully aware of the daunting task ahead. The company I was working for presented me with choice: I could accept a new management role or pursue a stated goal of mine to create an official Agile Coach position within the software group. The organization had just created an official scrum master role in the org chart, but the PMO was strongly resisting the idea of an official product owner role. I was an epic turf battle.

The management path offered greater security but had significant downsides. Not only would I have the decidedly unpleasant task of managing people in a highly regulated and bureaucratic organization, I would also be expected to fill in the scrum master gaps on various teams. This sounded like a good way to end my career as an Agile Coach.

The coach path offered the highly appealing challenge of implementing Agile and SAFe in a 60 year old medical device manufacturer. The known risks included a certain tsunami of resistance. I’d be out on a limb, working to navigate in uncharted and dangerous waters. But I had excellent support. The arrival of a new CEO broke up many of the old ways of organizing software development and opened a window of opportunity. After a rigorous decision process, I chose the Agile Coach path. My 2020 mission reflects the enthusiasm I had for having made this choice.

Then things went sideways. The new CEO brought a much bigger broom than anyone imagined and my key executive support left the organization. Two new senior execs were hired that had a rather stunted understanding of Agile, SAFe, and working with software professionals. Progress stalled as head nods and “Yeah, we’ll get to that.” can-kicking substituted for action. A lot of really good people started to leave the organization, including what was left of my support and allies. A deeply disturbing experience while serving as the Unofficial Official Agile Coach and the effects of the pandemic lock-down sunk the Agile Coach boat. The bubble I placed myself on became more so. I’m surprised I wasn’t laid-off sooner.

The period since separating from my previous employer in early 2021 has been a period of immensely positive growth. The gain in perspective on the prior three years has enlightened me to just how toxic the work environment was. Taking that job was an experiment and in the end the primary failure was not discovering sooner that the experiment was destine to fail. My optimism was misplaced. I trusted untrustworthy people. The greater sadness is that the organization has a wonderful mission and excellent products, each held back from what they could be by a select few and their caustic alliances within the organization. My health and well-being are much the better for having left on their dime.

 I finished my 2020 declaration with “Here’s to moving into 2020 with mind and eyes wide open.” And so I did. Where to next will be on my terms. Free from people who talk inclusion but practice exclusion, talk diversity but practice conformity, talk about change but fight for stagnation, and talk about collaboration while protecting their tiny fiefdoms with vindictive ruthlessness. My tuned purpose and mission for 2022 will reflect this. And a good start will be to conduct business operations in ways that are aligned with the Mission Protocol.


Photo Credit: Original, Copyright © 2021, Gregory Paul Engel

Layoffs

I’ve never been fired, but have been laid off three times over the course of four distinct careers. I’m also three-for-three for having landed in a much better place after having been laid off. So with three data points, maybe there is some truth to the street wisdom that a little adversity is a good thing.

“I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent- no one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you.” – Seneca, On Providence, 4.3

I have also survived 17 layoffs. And I remember them all.

Paradoxically, many of the layoffs I survived were more painful than the layoffs in which I was included. I have clear memories of people I enjoyed working with that one day were simply gone from the place I was spending more than one third of my life. The resulting crash of morale at the workplace simply added to the sense of dread and “why bother” attitude. Their absence became a reminder that we were all living under someone else’s Sword of Damocles, that we would pay the price of poor decisions made by someone else. In some instances, the nauseatingly smug expression of schadenfreude by a few well-connected corporate parasites and toxic individuals cruising the corridors just added to the sting. It doesn’t seem this is easier to deal with by those that remain after a layoff in a distributed work environment.

To say I’ve “survived” all the layoffs that occurred throughout my multiple careers, whether I was culled or not, is more than a little melodramatic. I have truly survived much, much greater losses. Layoffs are not lethal events and living according to several key Stoic principles has helped me to persevere and gain strength from the brief storms of finding work.

“To bear trials with a calm mind robs misfortune of its strength and burden.” – Seneca, Hercules Oetaeus, 231232

Reflecting on work transition experiences, I wondered what is it about having been laid off that made the next place so much better.

I have always worked hard to add value to my employer’s business. If that value was either not appreciated or the business shifted away from needing the value I was capable and willing to provide, it was a clear sign that it’s time to move on. By making this a choice, I could leave with no hard feelings and no burned bridges. Psychologically, this is more intimidating but much healthier.

Seeing the positive side of being laid off can be a little more difficult, particularly if one has been blind to the signs that every company and manager broadcasts when a layoff is eminent and is surprised when they happen. For starters, layoffs erased all the baggage I was carrying that belonged to the employer and made it much easier to strike out in a direction that suited my interests, skills, talents, and goals. Each of the three layoffs launched new, more lucrative and rewarding careers.

“Today I escaped from the crush of circumstances, or better put, I threw them out, for the crush wasn’t from outside me but in my own assumptions.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 9.13

Switching employers, even careers, more frequently than previous generations is a good career development strategy. In the dot com era, it was the only effective way to find meaningful raises and career advancement. Why toil away for a decade under Management-by-Taylorism to scratch out incremental pay increases when a salary could be increased by 10%-20% just by switching employers? Twenty-five years on, staying with the same employer for more than five years actually looks odd to many recruiters I’ve been talking to.

A friend of mine has a personal policy to commit to an employer for 1,000 days. At that point, she decides if the workplace it meeting her goals and expectations. Doesn’t matter if it’s a shortcoming of her employer or if her goals and interests have changed – a mismatch is a mismatch so it’s time to leave. I think it’s a good policy, particularly in the Age of Information and Knowledge and distributed workforces.

A policy like this builds resilience in several ways.

1. It’s important to know what it takes to persevere with the crap work that goes with just about any job. Flitting from job to job doesn’t develop this. A 1,000 day commitment is enough to show that you made it past the “honeymoon” period every job has, have worked more than a few significant problems into solutions, and generally paid your dues and demonstrated – if only to yourself – you have the chops to do the work.
2. Deciding to leave a job and doing so multiple times throughout your life builds confidence in your abilities to create your future.
3. It adds a valuable layer to your talent stack, as Scott Adams has described it.

If it was generally known that employees had this policy, employers might expand their efforts to foster cultures that allow employees who are creative and collaborative to thrive and grow. Instead of what’s more common: Cube farms propped up by career leaches that brag about having worked at the company for 25 years when in fact all they’ve done is worked one mediocre year and repeated it 24 times.

I’m done with that. Forever.

“There are those too who suffer not from moral steadfastness but from inertia, and so lack the fickleness to live as they wish, and just live as they have begun.” – Seneca, On Tranquility of Mind


Photo by Benmar Schmidhuber on Unsplash

Good Intentions, Bad Results

In The Logic of Failure, Dietrich Dörner makes the following observation:

In our political environment, it would seem, we are surrounded on all sides with good intentions. But the nurturing of good intentions is an utterly undemanding mental exercise, while drafting plans to realize those worthy goals is another matter. Moreover, it is far from clear whether “good intentions plus stupidity” or “evil intentions plus intelligence” have wrought more harm in the world. People with good intentions usually have few qualms about pursuing their goals. As a result, incompetence that would otherwise have remained harmless often becomes dangerous, especially as incompetent people with good intentions rarely suffer the qualms of conscience that sometimes inhibit the doings of competent people with bad intentions. The conviction that our intentions are unquestionably good may sanctify the most questionable means. (emphasis added, Kindle location 133)

That sounds about right. To this I would add that incompetent people with good intentions rarely suffer the consequences of imposing their good intentions on others.

The distinguishing feature of a competent individual with good intentions and an incompetent individual with good intentions is the ability to predict and understand the consequences of their actions. Not just the immediate consequences, but the long term consequences as well. The really competent individuals with good intentions will also have a grasp of the systemic effects of acting on their intentions. People with a systemic view of the situation are deliberate in their actions and less likely to act or react emotionally to circumstances. Doesn’t mean they will always get it right, but when they fall short they are also more likely to learn from the experience in useful ways.


Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

Mindfulness? There’s an app for that! (Revisited)

Three years ago, I published the following article:

It appears mindfulness is…well…on a lot of people’s minds lately. I’ve seen this wave come and go twice before. This go around, however, will be propelled and amplified by the Internet. Will it come and go faster? Will there be a lasting and deeper revelation around mindfulness? I predict the former.

Mindfulness is simple and it’s hard. As the saying goes, mindfulness is not what you think.  It was difficult when I first began practicing Rinzai Zen meditation and Aikido many years ago. It’s even more difficult in today’s instant information, instant gratification, and short attention span culture. The uninitiated are ill equipped for the journey.

With this latest mindfulness resurgence expect an amplified parasite wave of meditation teachers and mindfulness coaches. A Japanese Zen Master (Roshi, or “teacher”) I studied with years ago called them “popcorn roshis” – they pop up everywhere and have little substance. No surprise that this wave includes a plethora of mindfulness “popcorn apps.”

Spoiler alert: There are no apps for mindfulness. Attempting to develop mindfulness by using an app on a device that is arguably the single greatest disruptor of mindfulness is much like taking a pill to counteract the side effects of another pill in your quest for health. At a certain point, the pills are the problem. They’ve become the barrier to health.

The “mindfulness” apps that can be found look to be no different than thousands of other non-mindfulness apps offering timers, journaling, topical text, and progress tracking. What they all have in common is that they place your mindfulness practice in the same space as all the other mindfulness killing apps competing for your attention – email, phone, texts, social media, meeting reminders, battery low alarms, and all the other widgets that beep, ring, and buzz.

The way to practicing mindfulness is by the deliberate subtraction of distractions, not the addition of another collection of e-pills. The “killer app” for mindfulness is to kill the app. The act of powering off your smart phone for 30 minutes a day is in itself a powerful practice toward mindfulness. No timer needed. No reminder required. Let it be a random act. Be free! At least for 30 minutes or so.

Mental states like mindfulness, focus, and awareness are choices and don’t arise out of some serendipitous environmental convergence of whatever. They are uniquely human states. Relying on a device or machine to develop mindfulness is decidedly antithetical to the very state of mindfulness. Choosing to develop such mental states requires high quality mentors (I’ve had many) and deliberate practice – a practice that involves subtracting the things from your daily life that work against them.

“For if a person shifts their caution to their own reasoned choices and the acts of those choices, they will at the same time gain the will to avoid, but if they shift their caution away from their own reasoned choices to things not under their control, seeking to avoid what is controlled by others, they will then be agitated, fearful, and unstable.” – Epictetus, Discourses, 2.1.12

Looking at the past three Internet years I’d have to say the prospects for the latest mindfulness wave amounting to anything substantial are bleak. There probably aren’t enough words to describe how far off the rails this fad has gone. But there is a number! 2020.

Bonus: There’s a study! “Minding your own business? Mindfulness decreases prosocial behavior for those with independent self-construals.” (Preprint) There was a concept in this study that was new to me: “self-construal.” According to the APA dictionary:

self-construal
n. any specific belief about the self. The term is used particularly in connection with the distinction between independent self-construals and interdependent self-construals.

Well, that definition sorta has itself as the definition. So…

independent self-construal
a view of the self (self-construal) that emphasizes one’s separateness and unique traits and accomplishments and that downplays one’s embeddedness in a network of social relationships. Compare interdependent self-construal.

And

interdependent self-construal
a view of the self (self-construal) that emphasizes one’s embeddedness in a network of social relationships and that downplays one’s separateness and unique traits or accomplishments. Compare independent self-construal.

Clear on terms, on to the abstract:

Mindfulness appears to promote individual well-being, but its interpersonal effects are less clear. Two studies in adult populations tested whether the effects of mindfulness on prosocial behavior differ by self-construals. In Study 1 (N = 366), a brief mindfulness induction, compared to a meditation control, led to decreased prosocial behavior among people with relatively independent self-construals, but had the opposite effect among those with relatively interdependent self-construals. In Study 2 (N = 325), a mindfulness induction led to decreased prosocial behavior among those primed with independence, but had the opposite effect among those primed with interdependence. The effects of mindfulness on prosocial behavior appear to depend on individuals’ broader social goals. This may have implications for the increasing popularity of mindfulness training around the world.

TL;DR: Mindfulness “training” makes selfish people more selfish and narcissistic people more narcissistic. On the other hand, it makes altruistic people more altruistic and compassionate people more compassionate. So there’s that.

I think it’s fair to say the last several years in particular have revealed an awe inspiring explosion in selfishness and narcissism. Evidenced by the extreme polarization manifest in identity politics and all it’s dubious offspring. The thought of all these people pulling on a mindfulness mask like some fashion accessory is less than comforting.

Three years on, it looks to be certain that “mindfulness” has been co-opted and applied as a temporary bandage in a world lacking resilience, flexibility, and genuine tolerance. Another mindfulness wave that has failed to crash onto the shores of civilization with a cleansing thunder, instead mindlessly trickled up to the edge and done little more than rearrange the garbage floating at the shoreline.

I really wanted it to succeed. Maybe next time.

References

Poulin, M., Ministero, L., Gabriel, S., Morrison, C., & Naidu, E. (2021, April 9). Minding your own business? Mindfulness decreases prosocial behavior for those with independent self-construals. https://doi.org/10.31234/osf.io/xhyua

 

Image by jplenio from Pixabay

The Sword of Peritus

[This story was inspired by the expression “double edged sword” and the “Sword of Damocles,” an ancient parable popularized by the Roman philosopher Cicero in his 45 B.C. book “Tusculan Disputations.”]

A brash young man named Tenaci strode into the courtyard of a famous swordsman named Peritus and proclaimed, “You are old and have not yet designated an heir to your school! You will teach me how to wield a sword and become a powerful warrior. It will not take long as I am already an expert swordsman. I will be the heir to your school!”

Peritus looked long and hard at Tenaci, sizing him up, but the expression on his face revealed he was not impressed by what he saw in the noisy youth before him.

“Expert, are you?” queried Peritus. “Very well, let’s see your metal.” Gesturing across the courtyard to a table that displayed an impressive array of many types of swords, Peritus instructed Tenaci, “Chose one to your liking and teach me a lesson.”

Tenaci strode confidently to the table and scanned the choices like a hungry gladiator at an Emperor’s feast. In short order, he selected a hefty broadsword. Examining it closely, he marveled at the craftsmanship that must have gone into it’s creation. Holding the sword in the ready position, Tenaci approach Peritus.

“Ah, you have chosen a powerful sword, indeed. That is ‘Vindicta,’ the sword of revenge!'”

The two faced each other for a tense moment, Tenaci in full battle posture and Peritus standing as if he were waiting for foot traffic to pass before crossing a road. Like a bolt of lightning, Tenaci made his move. As he lifted Vindicta above his head and prepared for a mighty blow, Tenaci cried out in surprise and pain and let the sword drop from his grasp. What strange magic had switched the sword end-for-end in his hands? No longer was he tightly griping the hilt, but the blade!

“Perhaps not the blade for you. Please, chose another,” offered Peritus.

Tenaci walked over the the table and examined his choices more closely. Peering back at Peritus with a suspicious eye, Tenaci chose a much lighter sword. The hilt looked the same as his previous choice, but the blade was thinner and flexible. Again, he marveled at the craftsmanship. The balance in this blade was remarkable.

“Interesting choice,” said Peritus. “That is ‘Invidia,’ the sword of envy.'”

Again, the two faced each other as before, Tenaci in full battle posture and Peritus casually waiting. Maneuvering into position, Tenaci prepared for a whip strike across Peritus’ face. Faster than an eye can blink, he made his move. But again, before he scarcely began to swing Invidia, Tenaci cried out in pain and released his grip on the sword which sailed harmlessly across the courtyard, clattering to rest at the main gate. As with Vindicta, Invidia had switched end-for-end while in his grasp.

“Chose another?”, suggested Peritus.

Looking down at his bleeding hands, “I think not,” replied Tenaci. “Your table full of tricky swords.”

“Here, then, is your first lesson. You know much less than you think you do,” stated Peritus. “And for your second, look at the table once again and tell me what you see in this collection of swords that is common to all of them.”

Tenaci stood before the table for many hours. Scrutinizing every detail, but the blades were all different – length, thickness, weight, edge, shape. He could discern no common element. As the sun set, the waning rays of light struck the table in a way that illuminated a simple inlay of gold and silver on the hilt of each sword. Only then did Tenaci see that every hilt was identical.

“I see the common element!”, exclaimed Tenaci.

“That handle goes by many names,” explained Peritus. “‘Misericordia’, ‘Gratia’, ‘Remissio’, to name a few. Compassion, gratitude, and forgiveness. It isn’t the blade you hold. You hold the handle and the handle holds the blade. Unlike all the other swords in the world, these are honest and virtuous. If your heart if filled with revenge or anger or hate, then the weapon transforms so that you are holding the end that matches your wishes.”

“I don’t see the sense in that,” snorted Tenaci. “What good is such a weapon? If I am angry or vengeful or afraid or feel the need to deliver justice, then those blades should serve me! If the blade turns on me than I’m the only one hurt! If I can only use a sword with forgiveness or compassion in my heart, why would I ever draw such a sword?”

As he turned to leave, Peritus nodded to Tenaci and said, “Lesson three.”


Image credit: Richard Westall – own photograph of painting, Ackland Museum, Chapel Hill, North Carolina, United States of America, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3437614