When I first compared this enlightened approach to people-management with the drive-them-harder style of Jason Calacanis, it triggered a massive debate, and I wrote a follow-up comparing the Calacanis approach to an evil cult. Last week 37signals reckoned that urgency is poisonous.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that urgency is overrated. In fact, I’ve come to believe urgency is poisonous. Urgency may get things done a few days sooner, but what does it cost in morale? Few things burn morale like urgency. Urgency is acidic.

Emergency is the only urgency. Almost anything else can wait a few days. It’s OK. There are exceptions (a trade show, a conference), but those are rare.

When a few days extra turns into a few weeks extra then there’s a problem, but what really has to be done by Friday that can’t wait for Monday or Tuesday? If your deliveries are that critical to the hour or day, maybe you’re setting up false priorities and dangerous expectations.

If you’re a just-in-time provider of industry parts then precise deadlines and deliveries may be required, but in the software industry urgency is self-imposed and morale-busting. If stress is a weed, urgency is the seed. Don’t plant it if you can help it.

I can’t agree more. A client phoned once, all a’fluster about an “emergency”. Before I could think, I blurted out the question, “Why? Whose life is in peril?”

Of course no-one was in danger. This client was operating in crisis mode, as usual: that anti-pattern also known as “firefighting mode”: “Dealing with things only when they become a crisis, with the result that everything becomes a crisis.” I’ve written about that before here and with my colleague Zern Liew.

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How… 2005.

Laurel was tagged three months ago and is only getting to it now. And they’re not even real ropes!

Is that enough slagging-off? Shall I get on with it now?

Actually this will be fun on a Saturday morning. It’s been ages since I’ve done one of these. Here goes…

The Rules

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

8 Random Facts about Stilgherrian

As you read these, do reflect upon your own life and, if any thoughts are triggered, please add your own comments.

1. I can’t swim. Whenever I went near water deeper than my ankles my mother, bless her, would screech, “Don’t go near the water you’ll fall in and drown!” I avoided school swimming lessons. Even now, if I wade into water that reaches my chest, my pulse rate surges and more often than not I’ll have a panic attack. A spa isn’t necessarily relaxing.
2. I was the first person to let a talkback caller say “fuck” on Adelaide radio, as far as I know. At least in daylight hours. When challenged by the station manager, I said the sheer strength of expression was an important part of the caller’s political point, and that we didn’t do political censorship. This was in the late 1980s.
3. I’m told I’m a good shot with a gun. This was after a trip on HMAS Aware, an old Attack-class patrol boat run by the RANR. I loosed a full clip from a 9mm Browning automatic into a perfectly innocent oil drum floating gently off the boat’s stern. Most shots hit the target. The Quartermaster-Gunner noticed, and his views were relayed back to me. I haven’t fired a gun since.
4. One time I got so drunk I lost my colour vision for two days. I was left in charge of a keg of cider and was serving it on a “one for you, one for me” basis. Hey give me a break, I was young!
5. The scars below my left eye were caused by two different accidents. When I was about 2 years old, I ran into the brass tap of a rainwater tank — conveniently at face height at that age. When I was 23 I was run down by a car. I bounced over the bonnet. The windscreen wipers dragged my glasses from my face, ploughing a furrow through the flesh. It was raining. The blood trickled into my eye as I lay on the street waiting for the ambulance. My neck hurt. It hurt a lot. I remembered the drill, though. “Don’t touch me,” I kept repeating to the driver. “Don’t touch me!” Fortunately my neck was not broken. My left knee, however, continues to be dodgy.
6. At high school I was in the same Venturer Scout patrol as soon-to-be Senator Nick Xenophon. Every now and then I joke about running for the Senate too. Should I?
7. Once, for a whole week, I had no keys. I’d moved out of my Adelaide flat and was en route to Sydney. But everything I owned, apart from a bag of clothes and a handful of books, was in transit. I stayed with friends while making a leisurely journey via Melbourne, and I hadn’t arranged accommodation in Sydney. With no keys defining my relationship with land and property, I felt strangely liberated and fancy-free.
8. I sometimes wonder what would’ve happen had I stayed living in Adelaide. There’s an artist who… who perhaps could have received more of my attention. Last I heard, he’s sharing his life with someone born in the same hospital I was, on exactly the same date, but one year different. Fate is a fickle bitch.

You’re tagged!

And now it’s your turn. If you’ve already done this meme, let me know and I’ll victimise someone else.

• ’Pong, obviously.
• Alex Willemyns. Since you use Tumblr it’s tricky to post lots of text so maybe you have to do a series of pictures. Or post one fact at a time using text snippets. Or make a video.
• Garth “Deadly Bloody Serious” Kidd, it’d be nice to something from you more often than once every two or three months.
• Houston, whose last name I won’t give ‘cos it’s not on his blog.
• Nick Hodge Try not to make them all geekfacts.
• Snarky Platypus Here’s an excuse to finally write a second post. Or update Insane Platypus, a fine women’s basketball blog which has languished for nearly two years.
• Zern Liew. I know your Eicolab blog is business-oriented, so maybe yours all have to be facts about yourself which define your business identity. “All business is personal.”
• Zhasper

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My notebook is full of references to the human mind.

Once, on a Saturday Night at The Duke last year, it was a written note by a chap who’d only just been released from jail.

This time (pictured) it’s ’Pong explaining certain basic neurological reflexes.

No, it doesn’t say “Eight High Freeze” — whatever that is! — but “Fight Fligh[t] Freeze”. This diagram explains it all, neurochemistry and everything. Uhuh.

I just love the way that sketched explanations only make sense at the precise moment they’re being created.

Maybe I should go back through that notebook…

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I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.

That’s Wilde.

Yesterday we ruffled a client’s feathers. We were invited to tender for a web development project. Our response was, in essence, “Yeah we’re interested — but not if you’re going to do it that way. We don’t think that’ll work because [reasons]. We strongly recommend doing it [some other way]. Before we go any further, is it cool for us to tender that way, knowing that’s not what you asked for? Oh, and here’s the keys to our intranet, so you can see the dialog which led to this conclusion.”

Bang!

Someone’s worldview was gunned down ruthlessly! Politely, but we did use phrases like “high-risk death march”.

Now I should say that one of us worked with this client for almost a decade and the other has worked with them on two projects in the last year. So our comments were based on some knowledge of the organisation and its needs as well as our own professional opinions. Nevertheless, what we said was shocking.

I’ve always wondered why clear, direct communication is so rare in business. People seem almost afraid to say what they mean. “Don’t upset the client!” So a recommendation like “Process A is dangerous and you should change that immediately or risk almost certain failure” becomes a mealy-mouthed “Is everyone happy with the assumptions relating to Process A?”

All urgency is drained away. The project continues flying serenely towards the looming mountain.

But don’t upset the client.

If your recommendation is for major change, when do you broach the subject? Sign up to the “wrong” concept of the project and then try to change it? Leave it until people have spent more time going down the wrong path, and the deadline is closer? No, something so important should be communicated as soon as possible.

Organisations aren’t used to people speaking quite so directly. When it happens, it’s like a splash of iced water into the face. And sometimes, that splash into alertness is precisely what’s needed.

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