Friends, Guides, Coaches, and Mentors

The “conscious competence” model for learning is fairly well known. If not explicitly, than at least implicitly. Most people can recognize when someone is operating at a level of unconscious incompetence even if they can’t quite put their finger on why it is such a person makes the decisions they do. Recognizing when we ourselves are at the level of unconscious incompetence is a bit more problematic.

A robust suite of cognitive biases that normally help us navigate an increasingly complex world seem to conspire against us and keep us in the dark about our own shortcomings and weaknesses. Confirmation bias, selective perception, the observer bias, the availability heuristic, the Ostrich effect, the spotlight effect and many others all help us zero in on the shiny objects that confirm and support our existing memories and beliefs. Each of these tissue-thin cognitive biases layer up to form a dense curtain, perhaps even an impenetrable wall, between the feedback the world is sending and our ability to receive the information.

There is a direct relationship between the density of the barrier and the amount of energy needed to drive the feedback through the barrier. People who are introspective as well as receptive to external feedback generally do quite well when seeking to improve their competencies. For those with a dense barrier it may require an intense experience to deliver the message that there are things about themselves that need to change. For some a poorly received business presentation may be enough to send them on their way to finding out how to do better next time. For others it may take being passed over for a promotion. Still others may not get the message until they’ve been fired from their job.

However it happens, if you’ve received the message that there are some changes you’d like to make in your life and it’s time to do the work, an important question to ask yourself is “Am I searching for something or am I lost?”

If you are searching for something, the answer may be found in a conversation over coffee with a friend or peer who has demonstrated they know what you want to know. It may be that what you’re looking for – improve your presentation skills, for example – requires a deeper dive into a set of skills and it makes sense to find a guide to help you. Perhaps this involves taking a class or hiring a tutor.

If you are lost you’ll want to find someone with a much deeper set of skills, experience, and wisdom. A first time promotion into a management position is a frequent event that either exposes someone’s unconscious incompetence (i.e. the Peter Principle) or challenges someone to double their efforts at acquiring the skills to successfully manage people. Finding a coach or a mentor is the better approach to developing the necessary competencies for success when the stakes are higher and the consequences when failing are greater.

A couple of examples may help.

When I was first learning to program PCs I read many programming books cover to cover. It was a new world for me and I had very little sense of the terrain or what I was really interested in doing. So I studied everything. Over time I became more selective of the books I bought or read. Eventually, I stopped buying books altogether because there was often just a single chapter of interest. By the time I concluded my software development career, it had been many years since I last picked up a software development book. This was a progression from being lost at the start – when I needed coaches and mentors in the form of books and experienced software developers – to needing simple guidance from articles and peers and eventually to needing little more than a hint or two for the majority of my software development career.

A more recent example is an emergent need to learn photography – something I don’t particular enjoy. Yet for pragmatic reasons, it’s become worth my time to learn how to take a particular kind of photograph. I needed a coach or a mentor because this was entirely new territory for me. So I hired a professional photographer with an established reputation for taking the type of photograph I’m interesting in. My photography coach is teaching me what I need to know. (He is teaching me how to fish, in other words, rather then me paying him for a fish every time I need one.)

Unlike the experience of learning how to program – where I really didn’t know what I wanted to do – my goal with photography is very specific. The difference had a significant influence on who I choose as guides and mentors. For software development, I sought out everyone and anyone who knew more than I. For photography, I sought a very specific set of skills. I didn’t want to sit through hours of classes learning how to take pictures of barn owls 1,000 meters away in the dark. I didn’t want to suffer through a droning lecture on the history of camera shutters. Except in a very roundabout way, none of this serves my goal for learning how to use a camera for a very specific purpose.

Depending on what type of learner you are, working with a mentor who really, really knows their craft about a specific subject you want to learn can be immensely more satisfying and enjoyable. Also, less expensive and time consuming. If it expands into something more, than great. With this approach you will have the opportunity to discover a greater interest without a lot of upfront investment in time and money.

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

Moving Past “I Don’t Know”

In 2015 I attended the Mile High Agile conference in Denver where Mike Cohn delivered the morning keynote address: “Let Go of Knowing: How Holding onto Views May Be Holding You Back.” As you might expect from a seasoned professional, it was an excellent presentation and very well received. A collection of 250+ scrum masters, product owners, and agile coaches is no stranger to mistakes, failures, and terrifying moments of doubt.

As valuable as the ideas in Cohn’s presentation are, I want to take them further. Not further into the value of keeping our sense of sureness somewhat relaxed, rather onto some thoughts about what’s next. After we’ve reached a place of acknowledging we don’t know something and are less sure then we were just a moment before, where do we go from there? It’s an important question, because if you don’t have an answer, you’re open to trouble.

The “I Don’t Know” Vacuum

Humans are wired to find meaning in almost every pattern they experience. The cognitive vacuum created by doubt and uncertainty is so strong it will cause seemingly rational people to grasp at the most untenable of straws. It’s a difficult path, but developing the skill for being comfortable with moments of doubt and uncertainty can lead to new insights and deeper understanding if we give our brains a little time to search and explore. Hanging out in a space of doubt and uncertainty may be fine for a little while, but it isn’t a wise place to build a home.

After acknowledging we don’t know something or that we’ve  been wrong in our thinking, it’s important to make sure the question “What’s next?” doesn’t go begging. I’d wager we’ve all had the dubious pleasure of discovering what we don’t know in full view of others and in those situations the answer to this question becomes critical. It may not need an immediate answer, but it does need an answer. If you don’t work to fill the vacuum left by “I don’t know” or “I was wrong,” someone else surely will and it may not move the conversation in the direction you intended.

The phenomenon works like this. Bob, a capable scrum master, ends up in a situation that reveals a lack of experience or understanding with the scrum framework and doesn’t know what to do. Alice, maybe immediately or maybe later, moves into the ambiguity, assumes control, and tells the team what should be done. If Alice is wise in the ways of agile, this could end well. If command-and-control is her modus operandi in the defence of silos and waterfall, it probably won’t.

So how can an agile practitioner prepare themselves to respond effectively in situations of doubt and uncertainty? Here are a few things that have worked for me.

Feynman-ize the Conversation

In his book “Surely You’re Joking , Mr. Feynman!,” Nobel physicist Richard Feynman tells a story from his early career where several building engineers started reviewing blueprints with him, thinking he knew how to read them. He didn’t. Having been surprised by being placed in a position of assumed expertise, Feynman improvised by pointing at a mysterious but ubiquitous symbol on the blueprint and asking, “What if that sticks?” The engineers studied the blueprint in light of Feynman’s question and realized the plans had a critical flaw in a system of safety valves.

That’s how to Feynman-ize a conversation. Start asking questions about things you don’t understand in a manner that challenges those around you to seek the answer you need. In essence, it expands the sphere of doubt and uncertainty to include others in the situation. This tactic is particularly effective in situations where corporate politics are strong. Bringing the whole team into the uncertainty space helps neutralize unhelpful behaviors and increase the probability the best answer for the moment will be found. It is no longer just you who doesn’t know. It’s us that that don’t know. That’s a bigger vacuum in search of an answer. In short order, it’s likely one will be pulled in.

The Solution Menu

Thinking of the agile practitioners in my professional circle, they are all adept at generating possibilities and searching their experience reservoir for answers based on similar circumstances. When the creative juices or flow of answers from the past are somewhat parched by the current challenge, it is natural to project the appearance of not knowing. Unless you’ve drawn a complete blank, you can still use the less-than-ideal options that came to mind.

“I can think of several possible solutions,” you might say. “But I’m not yet sure how they can be adapted to this challenge.” Then offer your short list of items for consideration. One of those menu choices might be the spark that inspires a team members to think of a better idea. Someone else may find an innovative combination of menu choices that gets to the heart of the issue. I’ve even had someone mishear one of my menu choices such that what they thought they heard turned out to be the more viable solution. This is just another way to leverage the power of everyone’s innate drive for finding meaning.

Design an Experiment

If there is a glove that fits the “I don’t know” hand, it’s experimentation. I suppose you could work to stretch the guessing glove over “I don’t know.” But if your team is aware that you don’t know something, it’s worse if they know you’re pretending that you do. Challenges and problems are the situation’s way of asking you questions. If the answers aren’t apparent, form a solution hypothesis, set up a simple test, and evaluate the results. And as the shampoo bottle says: lather, rinse, repeat until the problem is washed away. It’s another way to expand the sphere of uncertainty to include the whole team and increase the creative power brought to bear on the problem. If your shampoo bottle is this agile, I’ve every confidence you can be, too.

Now I’m curious. What has helped you move past “I don’t know?”

 

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Deliberate Practice and Coding

Deliberate practice applied to coding offers some unique opportunities. Unlike other skills, like learning to play the cello (to pick one that I have some experience with), you can go very far without a personal mentor. The feedback from the computer is about as objective as it gets. It will let you know exactly how good your code is.

This also helps remove the emotional component – positive and negative – that can sometimes impede progress with an in-person mentor. This doesn’t remove all emotion, however. Just about everyone who’s worked in a professional coding shop has witnessed the rare occurrence of a coder cursing at or even physically attacking their computer because their code isn’t working as expected. Those are surreal moments when an avalanche of cognitive biases and unconscious behavior become visible to all but the coder. That’s a topic for for a different post. Suffice it to say, learning how to control your emotions, channel frustration, and ignite curiosity is part of what distinguishes good coders from great coders.

Which gets met to finding quality feedback. While I’ve made a good living writing mountains of proprietary code for various business and corporations, I earned my coding chops by working on or authoring open source projects. This was the best source I found for getting feedback on my code. It also taught me another important lesson: Do not attach your identity to the code you write. Like any noob, I had a lot of pride in my early code that was pretty much untested outside my little work environment. In the open source world, the feedback was often swift and harsh. Or, at least is was when my identity was attached to it. Learning to separate work product from identity revealed just how much emotional spin I was putting on what was in hindsight reasonable feedback. I have concerns that the current climate in the coding world is opting for soft feedback and good feelings over legitimate and reasonable feedback. This, too, is for another post.

It’s worth giving some thought about the the pros and cons of working with an actual person for mentorship. Along with good instruction, a single mentor will pass along their own limitations and biases. Not necessarily a bad thing, just something to be aware of. So multiple mentors are better than just one, which starts to move down the path of actively participating in open source projects. By “actively” I mean not just contributing code, but studying the code (and it’s history) of existing successful projects. There are usually many ways to solve a problem with software. Work to understand why one approach is better than another. Insights like this are best gained, in my experience, by studying good code.

Somewhat related, if you are working from a book or a training program, actually type in the examples – character by character. Don’t cheat yourself by copy-pasting code examples. This is the muscle memory component to coding that you will find when learning other more physical skills (like playing the cello.) If you really want to experience the gnarly edge, ditch the IDE and code with at text editor. I still do all my coding in vim and this keyboard.

Another approach to deliberate practice is the idea of coding “katas.” This never clicked with me. I attribute this to having studied martial arts for 25 years, most of that time at the black belt level. Mapping the human psycho/physical world and the purpose of katas in the dojo to the machine world is too much of a mis-match. Much is lost in the translation, in my experience. The katas in the dojo, regardless the art form, translated easily to other styles and practices. The coding “katas” are more tightly coupled to the coding language in which they are written. In my view, it’s yet another example of swiping a cool sounding word and concept and force-fitting it to another domain. A software version of cargo cults – expecting form to create function. “Black belt” or “Ninja” coder are other force-fits. Yet again, something for another post.

But those are my limitations. Your experience will no doubt be different. As learning exercises and proficiency tracks, many of the coding “katas” look to be very good.

(For related thoughts on how building your own tools can deepen your understanding of a skill, see “Tools for Practice.” The examples in the article combine software development and cello practice.)

 

Image by Robert Pastryk from Pixabay

Expert 2.0

A common characteristic among exceptionally creative and innovative people is that they read outside their central field of expertise. Many of the solutions they find have their origins in the answers other people have found to problems in unrelated fields. Breakthrough ideas can happen when you adopt practices that are common in other fields. This is a foundational heuristic to open software development. Raymond (1999) observes:

Given a large enough beta-tester and co-developer base, almost every problem will be characterized quickly and the fix obvious to someone. Or, less formally, “Given enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow.” I dub this “Linus’s Law.” (P. 41)

So named for Linus Torvalds, best known as the founder of the Linux operating system. In the case of the Linux operating system, no one developer can can have absolute expert knowledge of every line of code and how it interacts (or not) with every other line of code. But collectively a large pool of contributing developers can have absolute expert knowledge of the system. The odds are good that one of these contributors has the expertise to identify an issue in cases where all the other contributors may not understand that particular part of the system well enough to recognize it as the source of the agony.

This idea easily scales to include knowledge domains beyond software development. That is, solutions being found by people working outside the problem space or by people working within the problem space in possession of expertise and interests outside the problem space.

Imagine, around 1440, a gentleman from Verona named Luigi D’vino who makes fine wines for a living. And imagine a gentleman from Munich named Hans Münze who punches out coins for a living. Then imagine a guy who is familiar with the agricultural screw presses used by winemakers, has experience with blacksmithing, and knowledge of coin related metallurgy. Imagine this third gentleman figures out a way to combine these elements to invent “movable type.” This last guy actually existed in the form of Johannes Gutenberg.

 

Assuming D’vino and Münze were each experts in their problem space, they very likely found incremental innovations to their respective crafts. But Guttenberg’s interests ranged farther and as a consequence was able to envision an innovation that was truly revolutionary.

But if you, specifically, wish to make these types of connections and innovations, there has to be a there there for the “magic” to happen. Quality “thinking outside the box” doesn’t happen without a lot of prior preparation. You will need to know something about what’s outside the box. And note, there aren’t any limitations on what this “what” may be. The only requirement is that it has to be outside the current problem space. Even so, any such knowledge doesn’t guarantee that it will be useful. It only enhances the possibility for innovative thinking.

There is more that can be done to tune and develop innovative thinking skills. What Bock suggests touches on several fundamental principles to transfer of learning, the “magic” of innovative thinking, as defined by Haskell (2001, pp. 45-46).

  • Learners need to acquire a large primary knowledge base or high level of expertise in the area that transfer is required.
  • Some level of knowledge base in subjects outside the primary area is necessary for significant transfer.
  • An understanding of the history of the transfer area(s) is vital.

To summarize, in your field of interest you must be an expert of both technique and history (lest your “innovation” turn out to be just another re-invented wheel), and you must have a sufficiently deep knowledge base in the associated area of interested from which elements will be derived that contribute to the innovation.

References

Haskell, R. E. (2001). Transfer of learning: Cognition, instruction, and reasoning. San Diego, CA: Academic Press.

Raymond, E. S. (1999) The cathedral and the bazaar: Musings on Linux and open source by an accidental revolutionary. Sebastopol, CA: O’Reilly & Associates, Inc.

 

Image by István Kis from Pixabay

The Path to Mastery: Begin with the Fundamentals

Somewhere along the path of studying Aikido for 25  years I found a useful perspective on the art that applies to a lot of skills in life.  Aikido is easy to understand. It’s a way of living that leaves behind it a trail of techniques. What’s hard is overcoming the unending stream of little frustrations and often self-imposed limitations. What’s hard is learning how to make getting up part of falling down. What’s hard is healing after getting hurt. What’s hard is learning the importance of recognizing when a white belt is more of a master than you are. In short, what’s hard is mastering the art.

The same can be said about practicing Agile. Agile is easy to understand. It is four fundamental values and twelve principles. The rest is just a trail of techniques and supporting tools – rapid application development, XP, scrum, Kanban, Lean, SAFe, TDD, BDD, stories, sprints, stand-ups – all just variations from a very simple foundation and adapted to meet the prevailing circumstances. Learning how to apply the best technique for a given situation is learned by walking the path toward mastery – working through the endless stream of frustrations and limitations, learning how to make failing part of succeeding, recognizing when you’re not the smartest person in the room, and learning how to heal after getting hurt.

If an Aikidoka is attempting to apply a particular technique to an opponent  and it isn’t working, their choices are to change how they’re performing the technique, change the technique, or invent a new technique based on the fundamentals. Expecting the world to adapt to how you think it should go is a fool’s path. Opponents in life – whether real people, ideas, or situations – are notoriously uncompromising in this regard.  The laws of physics, as they say, don’t much care about what’s going on inside your skull. They stubbornly refuse to accommodate your beliefs about how things “should” go.

The same applies to Agile practices. If something doesn’t seem to be working, it’s time to step in front of the Agile mirror and ask yourself a few questions. What is it about the fundamentals you’re not paying attention to? Which of the values are out of balance? What technique is being misapplied? What different technique will better serve? If your team or organization needs to practice Lean ScrumXPban SAFe-ly than do that. Be bold in your quest to find what works best for your team. The hue and cry you hear won’t be from the gods, only those who think they are – mere mortals more intent on ossifying Agile as policy, preserving their status, or preventing the perceived corruption of their legacy.

But I’m getting ahead of things. Before you can competently discern which practices a situation needs and how to best structure them you must know the fundamentals.

There are no shortcuts.

In this series of posts I hope to open a dialog about mastering Agile practices. We’ll begin by studying several maps that have been created over time that describe the path toward mastery, discuss the benefits and shortcomings of each of these maps, and explore the reasons why many people have a difficult time following these maps. From there we’ll move into the fundamentals of Agile practices and see how a solid understanding of these fundamentals can be used to respond to a wide variety of situations and contexts. Along the way we’ll discover how to develop an Agile mindset.

Photo by simon sun on Unsplash

Building Mastery One Day At A Time

Old joke: A young couple visiting New York City for the first time has lost their way. They spot a street musician, just the person to help them get reoriented. “Excuse us, but can you tell us how to get to Carnegie Hall?” The musician stopped playing and thought for a moment before replying: “Practice.”

The prevailing wisdom is that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to achieve the level of mastery in any particular field of endeavor. Turns out, this is true for fields with well-defined measures for excellence like chess and music. In each of these areas, the rules are relatively simple, but mastering them isn’t easy. It’s pretty easy to tell when someone is playing an instrument out of tune or off-beat. And yet, a pawn shop guitar in the hands of Joe Satriani or Liona Boyd will likely result in that instrument expressing a voice no one knew it had. As for chess masters, they’re the ones who win against all challengers regardless the time or place of the match.

For areas of human endeavor where the edges are less well defined, like business or coaching, there may be no marker for how much practice it takes to reach a stable mastery. Having successfully started and built one business does not guarantee the next venture will be equally successful. A coach with a winning system for one team may end up at the bottom of the ranks when the same system is used with a different team.

Developing expertise with scrum is a blend of both of these. The rules are simple, but they are not easy to master. At the same time the territory isn’t well defined and frequently changes. A new client, a new team, or a new project and the edges for what is possible change. Misunderstanding this has been at the root of much of the frustration I’ve observed among people new to agile. They come from a world with well-defined edges – traditional project management practices filled with Gantt charts, milestones, functional specifications, use cases, deployment requirements, and a plethora of other artifacts that “must” be in place before work can begin. As many unknowns as possible must be made known, risks pounded down to trivial annoyances, and all traces of ambiguity squeezed out of the project plan. Learning how to let go of deeply rooted practices like this is no small thing. We like the comfort of well-defined rules. And when there’s work to be done with scarce resources to make it happen, we reach for the rules most familiar to us.

So how can we update the tried-and-true, super comfy confines of past practices and rule sets?

Practice, of the deliberate variety. As Emperor Hadrian might have put it, “Brick by brick, my fellow citizens, brick by brick.”

Research following on the “10,000 hours of practice” generalization has shown that it isn’t just that someone has completed 10,000 hours of practice. The critical factor was how they practiced. Was each hour spent completing the same motions and behaviors from the previous hour or were they spent building on successive experiences, seeking greater challenges, and developing a deeper understanding of their craft? Following the latter path leads to the incremental improvements required to build mastery. And once obtained, the same attitude toward practice helps sustain a level of mastery. There will always be something more to learn, a fresh perspective to experience, or a more satisfying way to experience success.

There is a great deal of neuroscience at the foundation of practice and few would dispute the value of learning how to learn. And yet as our experience grows and we master a particular field, it’s deceptively easy to fall into a complacency of thought whereby we convince ourselves there isn’t anything else to learn. That is until some seismic paradigm shift makes it clear the rules have changed and we’d let our mastery go stale. The consequences of this are captured by Greene (2012) in his book, Mastery:

“We prefer to live with familiar ideas and habits of thinking, but we pay a steep price for this: our minds go dead from the lack of challenge and novelty; we reach a limit in our field and lose control over our fate because we become replaceable.” (pg. 176)

If this happens, learning how to learn may not be enough. Learning how to unlearn may be equally valuable for regaining mastery.

In classic hacker culture, you aren’t a hacker until other recognized hackers call you a hacker. It’s a title to be earned, not claimed. The unfortunate title of “scrum master” aside, it is useful to take this credentialing tradition to heart with scrum as well. Consider yourself an apprentice scrum practitioner until other recognized scrum masters recognize your mastery. Holding such a frame keeps us humble, curious, and open to constant and never ending improvement.

I’ve been practicing, leading, or coaching scrum in one capacity or another for over 10 years and based on my billable hours over the past several years, I’m quite confident I’ve passed the 10,000 hour mark for practicing scrum. Even so, I’m not a master scrum master…yet. The reason is simple and is expressed by the great cellist Pablo Casals’ response to filmmaker Robert Snyder’s query as to why Casals continues to practice five hours a day at 80 years of age, “Because I think I am making progress.” I keep building upon my practice because each day I discover new ways to enhance team performance and improve my skills. Perhaps more telling, any time I think I’ve heard every excuse for not following the scrum framework, someone on one of my teams surprises me.

If you’re interested in staying on the path toward scrum mastery, you need to get out of the books and into the world. There are a variety of ready opportunities to mark and gauge your progress.

  • Frequently review the framework for scrum and compare what’s there with your current projects. If there are mismatches, find out why. Is there really a good reason for straying from the framework? If so, open a dialog about these differences during your retrospectives.
  • If possible, ask your fellow agile practitioners when they are holding their next review, backlog refinement, or sprint planning session and get yourself invited as an observer.
  • There are probably a number of excellent agile related meet-ups in your area. Speaking from personal experience, these are incredibly valuable communities of support and new ideas.

Image by sarfarazis from Pixabay

References

Greene, R. (2012). Mastery. New York, NY: Viking Penguin

Best Practices or Common Practices

I’m using the phrase “best practices” less and less when working to establish good agile practices. In fact, I’ve stopped using it at all. The primary reason is that it implies there is a set of practices that apply to all circumstances. And in the case of “industry best practices,” they are externally established criteria – they are the best practices and all others have been fully vetted and found wanting. I have found that to be untrue. I’ve also found that people have a hard time letting go of things that are classified as “best.” When your practices are the “best,” there’s little incentive to change even when the evidence strongly suggests there are better alternatives. Moreover, peer pressure works against the introduction of innovative practices. Deviating from a “best” practice risks harsh judgment, retribution, and the dreaded “unprofessional” label.

If an organization is exploring a new area of business or bringing in-house a set of expertise that was previously outsourced, adopting “best” practices may be the smart way to go until some measure of stability has been established. But to keep the initial set of practices and change only as the external definition of “best” changes ends up dis-empowering the organization’s employees. It sends the message, “You aren’t smart enough to figure this out and improve on your own.” When denied the opportunity to excel and improve, employees that need that quality in their work will move on. Over time, the organization is left with just the sort of people who indeed are not inclined to improve – the type of individuals who need well defined job responsibilities and actively resist change of any sort. The friction builds until change and adaptation grind along at glacial speeds or stop altogether.

The inertia endemic to “best” practices often goes unnoticed. When one group reaches a level of success by implementing a particular practice, it is touted as one of the keys to its success. And so other groups or organizations adopt the practice. Since everyone wants success, these practices are faithfully implemented according to tradition and change little even as the world around them changes dramatically. Classic cargo cult thinking.

In his Harvard Business Review article “Which Best Practice Is Ruining Your Business?”, Freek Vermeulen observes that “when managers don’t see [a] practice as the root cause of their eroding competitive position, the practice persists — and may even spread further to other organizations in the same line of business.” Consequently, business leaders “never connect the problems of today with [a] practice launched years ago.” Common practices, on the other hand, suggest there is room for improvement. They are common because a collection of people have accepted them as generally valuable, not because they are presumed universally true or anointed as “best.” They are derived internally, not imposed externally. As a result, letting go of a “common” practice for a better practice is easier and carries less stigma. With enough adoption throughout the organization, the better practice often becomes the common practice. When we use practices that build upon the collected wisdom from an organization’s experiences we are more likely to take ownership of the process and adapt in ways that naturally lead to improvement.

There are long term benefits to framing prevailing practices as “common.” It reverses the “you are not smart enough” message and encourages practitioners to take more control and ownership in the quality of their practices. Cal Newport argues that “[g]iving people more control over what they do and how they do it increases their happiness, engagement, and sense of fulfillment.” This message is at the heart of Dan Pink’s book, “Drive,” in which he makes the case that more control leads to better grades, better sports performance, better productivity, and more happiness. Pink cites research from Cornell that followed over three hundred small businesses. Half of the businesses deliberately gave substantial control and autonomy to their employees. Over time, these businesses grew at four times the rate of their counterparts.

When you are considering the adoption or pursuit of any best practice, ask yourself, “best” according to whom? It may help avoid some unintended consequences down the line where someone else’s “best” practice yields the worst results for you, your team, or your organization.

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

References

Newport, C. (2012). So Good They Can’t Ignore You. New York, NY: Grand Central Publishing.

Pink, D.H. (2009). Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us. New York, NY: Riverhead

Vermeulen, F. (2012). Which Best Practice Is Ruining Your Business? Retrieved from https://hbr.org/2012/12/which-best-practice-is-ruining

Drive for Teams

I recently re-read Daniel Pink’s book, “Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us.” I read it when it was first published and I was still managing technical teams. Super brief summary: The central idea of the book is that people are mostly driven by intrinsic motivation based on three aspects:

  • Autonomy — The desire to be self directed.
  • Mastery — The urge to improve skills.
  • Purpose — The desire to engage with work that has meaning and purpose.

I find this holds true for individuals. However, when applied to teams optimizing for these three aspects can be problematic. If an individual on a team seeks to maximize autonomy, they are likely to come into conflict with the objectives of the team. For example, a software team that is tasked with developing a component that is expected to interact with several other components developed by other teams. If a single developer, in the interests of maximizing their individual autonomy, has decided to develop the component according to standards, design principles, and tools that are different from those of teammates and other teams (essentially, a local optimization,) then the result is likely to be sub-optimal overall.

Some individual autonomy must necessarily be sacrificed in the interests of effective collaboration. It’s possible, even desirable, that individual pursuits of mastery and purpose can be maintained. However, it may be necessary for an individual to focus on mundane tasks and the objectives of the team for periods of time. Finding ways to maintain a healthy balance between the intrinsic motivators and the purpose of the team is no small task and, when found, requires constant attention to maintain.

Perhaps it is possible to attach the team’s or organization’s purpose to the interests of the individual. Or sort for hiring people who have a personal purpose that is in-line with the organization’s purpose.

Image by M. Maggs from Pixabay