jump to navigation

Field Of Rakes October 9, 2009

Posted by Chuck Musciano in Leadership.
Tags: , , ,
1 comment so far

In the surreal sitcom My Name Is Earl, Earl (our hero) is at one point confronted with a series of challenges that he must complete to rescue Catalina, his brother’s true love. One of the more painful trials is that he must run through the Field of Rakes, blindfolded.  The rakes are positioned tines up, so that each mis-step results in Earl getting smacked in the face with a rake.  Earl’s painful sprint will seem eerily familiar to anyone who has spent any time in IT.

It is easy, in IT, to build your own Field of Rakes.  Each time we disappoint a user we add a rake to the field.  Even the simplest of problems can turn into a rake that will pop up to smack us in the face when we least expect it.

We work hard to do the big things right: system upgrades, new technology deployments, and major projects get lots of attention so that they don’t go awry.  That makes sense; big projects involve a lot of rakes, and the last thing you want to do is add several hundred rakes to the field in one fell swoop.

Unfortunately, we often get the big projects right but fail on the little things.  Individually, the little things don’t present much risk. After all, it would be pretty easy to run across a field with a single rake.  But all those little things, taken over time, can fill a field with lots of rakes.

What can add a rake to your field? Anything and everything.  Denying a request for special software.  Failing to follow up on a support call.  Getting stuck between two competing users, so that you’re guaranteed to get a rake from one of them.  Missing requirements from a user.  Mismanaged expectations on a contract negotiation.  Ignoring what people really need and acting like you know best. I could go on and on, and every seasoned IT pro could add to this list.

How do you avoid adding rakes?  Easy: listen, care, and communicate.  Continuously. Every rake is the result of our inability to communicate and relate to someone.  As service providers, it is inevitable that we will disappoint people.  How we handle that moment and compensate for the problem determines whether we get a rake.  People know we cannot be perfect, but will only be gracious about it if we sincerely and diligently work to meet their needs.

Even with our best efforts we’ll still get a few rakes, and our run across the field may be a bit painful at times.  But diligent attention to people is the real key to IT success.  My Name Is Earl was a series about karma, good and bad.  All those rakes represent your karma, collected over your career. Focus each day to look for the rakes and remove them from your field.  May we all run through empty fields!

[tweetmeme source=”EffectiveCIO” alias=”http://bit.ly/cio115″ only_single=false]

Ubi Nihil Est Facil October 7, 2009

Posted by Chuck Musciano in Random Musings.
Tags: , ,
5 comments

Back in the day, I was a software developer in a research group, fiddling with Unix and workstations and this new thing called ArpaNet.  Being young and too clever by half, I decided to create a logo for our department.  No logo is complete without a motto, and I settled on “Where Nothing Is Simple,” a testimony to the bureaucracy of my company.  Good mottos are in Latin, of course, and I needed to get this translated.

Back then, there were no online translation services.  To be honest, there was no “online” at this point in time, translation services or otherwise.  I did use a “phone book” (it’s like Google, but all printed out) to look up the number of the local high school.  I called the school (it’s like texting, but converted to voice) and spoke to the Latin teacher, and she gave me the translation: “Ubi Nihil Est Facil.”

But she offered more.  Why did I need this translated?  Would I like her to find a more colloquial translation, or a reference from Latin literature?  No need, I assured her, and went on to create my logo.

That teacher provided what is sorely lacking in so many of our automated, online services: a human touch.  We revel in our online world, where everything is a click away, but we have lost something in this shiny new place.  The results of our clicking are fairly sterile, and only the most mundane queries are truly resolved by some online search engine or database.

The “why” part of the answer, that only humans can contribute, is where the real value resides.  That Latin teacher knew she could provide a better answer if she knew why I was asking. She was so pleased that someone wanted to use Latin, she was excited to reach out and help.

We seek to automate more and more these days, migrating previously human interactions to web- and phone-based activities.  The brevity of text messaging, Twitter, and Facebook strip away the soft edges of our conversations and leave little room for the discerning moments that allow us to serve each other more effectively.  Our customers may be taken care of, but have they been cared for?

Don’t forget that all of this starts with people trying to do things with other people.  Although we in IT often drive the technology that creates these faceless systems, we should try to retain the human touch as much as possible.  Our customers will be happier, I think, and our systems will be better received.

And what of my logo?  Well, back then, bosses had a more classical education, and some even knew Latin.  My snarky motto raised a few eyebrows and generated some… conversations between myself and the management team.  A different kind of human touch, perhaps, but one that I have not forgotten.  Ubi nihil est facil, indeed.

[tweetmeme source=”EffectiveCIO” alias=”http://bit.ly/cio114″ only_single=false]

In Defense of Apprentices October 5, 2009

Posted by Chuck Musciano in Leadership.
Tags: ,
5 comments

My recent post on knowledge capture generated all sorts of outstanding comments and feedback. Repeatedly, one thing stood out: the idea that apprenticeships, often seen as an “old school” training tool, may be one of the most important ways to transfer real knowledge in an organization.

For hundreds of years, the preferred (even required) way to learn a trade was to become an apprentice to a master.  Over a period of years, the deep knowledge of the master was transferred to the apprentice, until a new master had been created.

We have little patience these days for anything that might take years.  Instead, we seek ways to accelerate the learning process, capture the salient details, and transfer them in days and weeks, if not a few hours.

My original post contended that the knowledge could not be captured in some handy electronic format.  The comments extended this to point out that knowledge, even if captured, could not be quickly transferred.  Instead, it takes time and a deeper relationship to cement the deep concepts in any field.

Apprenticeships were created long ago, when the skills to be transferred were part of a formal, physical trade.  The idea, however, works just as well in the intangible world of management and leadership.  In some ways, we still embrace the idea, although in a reduced fashion over a shorter time frame, with labels like “mentoring” and “coaching.”

Why the name game?  Is there some shame in being an apprentice?  Why not call it what it is?  Perhaps we need more “apprentice CIOs.”

While I have never carried a title that included the word “apprentice,” my deepest learning occurred when I was acting in that role.  I learned the most about operations when I was essentially apprenticed to a great operations director.  My first true CIO role was preceded by a period of apprenticing to a COO who had once been a CIO; he was able to show me the ropes in a most productive fashion.  My current position began with me reporting to the then-current CIO, who took his role as a teacher very seriously.  He helped me understand the culture of our company, so that when he moved on I was positioned to extend his successful track record.

Are you in an apprentice position right now?  Do you need to be?  Perhaps you are and don’t realize it, or think of it that way.  Conversely, is someone apprenticed to you?  Should they be?  Are you even thinking about the relationship that way?

I think we have wrongly relegated the concept of apprenticeship to another era.  Perhaps we need it now, more than ever. Let’s reconsider the need for apprentices in our organizations, and restore the role to the position of honor that it deserves.

[tweetmeme source=”EffectiveCIO” alias=”http://bit.ly/cio113″ only_single=false]

Bug In Your Ear? October 2, 2009

Posted by Chuck Musciano in Random Musings, Technology.
Tags: , ,
11 comments

Let’s set the groundwork for this post: I love gadgets.  Any and all of them.  Any device with a battery and blinking light gets my undivided attention; if it has settings and preferences, I’ll spend hours learning every last mode and option.  I have yet to meet an electronic object I don’t want to know more about.

Groundwork, part two: Although I have strong opinions on shoes and ties, I will never be thought of as a sartorial trend-setter. I enjoy fine clothing and constantly seek advice on how to mix, match, and wear the right shirt and slacks at the same time.  I’ll never learn, mind you, but hope springs eternal.

However, when gadgets and fashion collide, I am compelled to provide some general guidance.  And that brings me to today’s bit of fashion advice for the gadget-lovers in the audience:

Never, never, never wear a Bluetooth headset in public. Ever. Never.

As much as I love gadgets, and as cool as the concept of a wireless headset may be, there is no excuse to have a chunk of plastic stuck in your ear, twenty-four hours a day. Who in their right mind thinks this is a good look?

We have abandoned, with great reluctance, the pocket protector.  The vast majority of people would not consider strapping a calculator to their belt.  Yet an inordinate number of people seem to feel that a Bluetooth headset is a crucial part of their everyday attire.  Apparently, nothing completes an ensemble of sweatpants, tank top, and flip-flops better than a glowing thing stuck to your head.

Consider the person behind me in line at the deli counter, waiting to get sliced luncheon meat.  What crucial call do they expect to arrive while they are otherwise occupied with the details of turkey and cheese?  What call could be so urgent that the time it takes to get the phone from pocket to ear could make a difference?  A massive stock trade? Providing a nuclear launch code? Advice to a befuddled brain surgeon?  I can’t imagine, but that blinking blue light on the side of their head certainly tells me that they are much more important than the rest of us.

There is one exception to this rule.  I do use a Bluetooth headset while driving, but only when driving alone, and only in my right ear so it is not visible from the road.  My driving skills are such that the headset significantly improves my chances of arriving at my destination in one piece.  But when I do arrive, the headset comes off before I exit the car.

I suspect a lot of people think that these headsets look cutting edge, and tell the world that you are technologically savvy.  Well, they do prove that you can master pairing a headset with your phone, but other than that, you look like a dork.  I can say this with confidence, because I mastered that look long ago.

[tweetmeme source=”EffectiveCIO” alias=”http://bit.ly/cio112″ only_single=false]

Can You See Me Now? September 30, 2009

Posted by Chuck Musciano in Technology.
Tags: , ,
3 comments

The mobile devices we carry grow in capability and sophistication every day.  It seems that what used to be phones that did clever things are now mobile computers that happen to make phone calls.  Is there a limit to what we’ll be able to use these devices for?  I think so, but it has nothing to do with power, memory, or computing capacity.

The real limit has to do with the length of your arm. I’ve found that I can no longer hold my phone far enough from my eyes to read the display.  There may be an app for that, but I can’t see it.

Seriously, there is a harsh correlation between our aging eyes and our inability to actually read the screens on these oh-so-clever devices.  Regrettably, many of these devices are designed and programmed by people with sharp, youthful vision.  In the hands of more seasoned users, the display icons, text, and even the buttons are too small or dim to see.

Setting aside the apps and the UI, I suspect one of the reasons for the success of the iPhone is that big, glorious screen.  When the text is big enough to read, you can still fit enough content on the display to be useful.  This is a big deal for those of us who spend a lot of time squinting or reaching for reading glasses.

But, some will say, there have been big-screen mobile devices before the iPhone.  What about them?

Prior to the iPhone, devices had stylus-centric interfaces.  When you are poking at things with a toothpick, developers tend to cram lots of tiny buttons and widgets on the display.  The iPhone has a finger-centric interface, with finger-sized buttons.  Finger-sized buttons are big enough to be read by those of us who are old enough to remember rotary-dial phones.  I’ll point out that the size of an icon on an iPhone is about the size of a finger-hole in a rotary phone dial. Coincidence?  Yes, but a meaningful one.

I suspect that we are about to hit a wall in the usability of mobile phones.  The display can’t get much bigger without making the phone annoyingly large in your purse or pocket.  Increasing the screen resolution packs more pixels on the display, but that just lets you create sharper widgets that are still too small to be seen by anyone over 45. I’ll take low-res and sharp over hi-res and blurry any day.

As a result, the amount of information can be displayed on a phone is about to hit a limit imposed by your age, the lens of your eye, the size of your hand, and the distance between your ear and your mouth.  That information limit will affect the complexity of applications that get developed. Until we get some breakthrough in implantable display devices, the applications on our phones aren’t going to get much more elaborate.

And for all you smirking young developers out there, have pity on us older folks.  Test your UI on your Mom to make sure everyone can see it.  And just you wait.  Your time is coming, my friend.  Your time is coming.

[tweetmeme source=”EffectiveCIO” alias=”http://bit.ly/cio111″ only_single=false]