tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-155123282024-03-07T09:10:26.595+00:00IWroteThis.co.uk LiveBoring the Internet <i>live</i> since 2005. Just like the <strike>normal</strike> <b>former</b> <a href="http://www.iwrotethis.co.uk/">IWroteThis.co.uk</a>... but updated more than once a decade!David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-67995682069772652972020-05-01T18:00:00.000+01:002020-05-04T14:19:42.684+01:00One space or two: has the great debate finally been resolved?In my Effective Writing training course, I pose a provocative question. After a full stop, should there be one space or two?<br />
It's provocative because there's no correct answer. Everyone will have been taught a particular way is correct, and many people get quite angry that not everyone else agrees.<br />
I then present <a href="https://xkcd.com/1285/">this XKCD cartoon</a> as a talking point.<br />
The intent is to illustrate that language rules - grammar, spelling, punctuation - are defined by consensus. What's correct English now is what people are actually writing and speaking now. That might be different to the consensus a hundred years ago, and, given today's level of connectivity, will likely be different again in a much shorter time period. But sometimes, we just don't agree on the rules, and that's where a style guide can be helpful - to help us agree to disagree, defer to an authoritative source, and move on.<br />
Finally, I ask participants in the course to guess whether Microsoft Word's grammar check treats one space or two as correct. It's actually a trick question: Word can be configured to treat either, or neither, as being incorrect.<br />
There is some objective history behind the question, and I have a personal opinion on what this means for the correct answer to the question. First, for most of the twentieth century, letters were typewritten and therefore monospaced, or fixed-width. That is to say, the typewriter carriage moved forwards a fixed amount when a letter was typed, no matter how wide the letter - i or l, m or w.<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">mmmm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">wwww</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">iiii</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">llll</span><br />
Text is easier to read if the space between sentences is clear and obvious. This means that a double-space after a full stop actually did make typewritten documents easier to read. I don't believe any of this is contentious. What is perhaps contentious is whether the same rule should still apply now that we all have word processors that can deal with letters of different widths.<br />
mmmm<br />
wwww<br />
iiii<br />
llll<br />
Indeed, the width of the letter m is used as an actual unit of measurement in typesetting - called the em (as in the "em-dash", as opposed to an "en-dash").<br />
My personal view is that it's bad form to change the content of data to make the formatting work properly. For that reason, I am content to say that one space is correct, and we should rely on our word processor (or web browser or whatever) to lay the text out neatly. Plus, it's very slightly less effort.<br />
In fact, in HTML, multiple consecutive whitespaces condense down to a single space anyway. Type two spaces after a sentence, or anywhere else, and your browser will helpfully get rid of the second one.<br />
All this is a rather long preamble to introduce a momentous piece of news: the world has decided - or at least, Microsoft has - that there is <a href="https://www.theverge.com/2020/4/24/21234170/microsoft-word-two-spaces-period-error-correction-great-space-debate">a definitive correct answer</a> to this vexing question. And that answer is, as I would have hoped, that single spacing is correct. The linked article talks about the dubious research on the topic as well.<br />
I don't think that this will settle the debate at all. Indeed, there will likely be some people who hold out against this decision precisely because it's Microsoft that's tried to settle it. But Microsoft's action tends to imply that the consensus has definitively shifted to the one-space view, and also ensures that most people will be encouraged to single-space in the future.<br />
<i>A version of this article was originally published on my company internal blog.</i>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-11830692488938809012020-04-03T18:00:00.000+01:002020-05-04T14:01:16.078+01:00What's the plural of OS?By virtue of my ever-popular Effective Writing training course, and despite no formal education in English above GCSE level, I am somewhat known for being a style and grammar authority / pedant. This means two things: first, my mother is very proud; and second, I get the occasional request to arbitrate on particular language usage.
<br />
This week: What's the plural of OS (where OS is the common abbreviation for Operating System)? Is it OSs? OSes? OS's?<br />
I didn't know the answer offhand, so I looked it up in four different style guides and drew a blank. However, there are some good rules of thumb that might apply in this case.<br />
One rule is: treat the abbreviation as though it were the expanded form. That would tend to favour "OSs", since we wouldn't add -es to the word System. However, this rule has some notable, and bitterly contested, exceptions, both in written and spoken English. For example, GIF is correctly pronounced jif, even though the initial G stands for Graphics.<br />
Another rule is: be guided by pronunciation. This approach is very helpful to the reader as well as the author. I find this particularly helpful when trying to ascertain where to place an apostrophe in a word that naturally ends in an S. Is it pronounced St James' Place or St James's Place? This rule would favour "OSes" as the correct plural.<br />
But there's one overriding rule in language, which is that common usage determines the rules. Dictionaries don't set or enforce language rules; they adapt to reflect the way the language is actually used. Even where a word or punctuation mark is technically wrong, the consensus of actual usage overrides it every time. The word "literally" is a very obvious case in point, having come to mean the exact opposite of its original definition. Language evolves, and every pedant in the world is powerless to stop it.<br />
On these grounds, it appears that OSs is likely the more common, and therefore correct, usage. <a href="https://whatis.techtarget.com/feature/The-plural-of-OS">This article</a> cites the Microsoft style guide and a <a href="http://blog.gerv.net/2005/04/the_wonderful_p/">mostly-respectful debate on the issue</a> as evidence for this.<br />
My final, and overarching, rule in a situation like this one is: as long as it's not obviously incorrect, choose an answer for a good reason, and then stick to it consistently. If a grammar pedant believes that "OSs" is inherently wrong, then you aren't ever going to change their mind; just as you aren't ever going to solve <a href="https://www.xkcd.com/1285/">the war over spaces after a full stop</a>.<br />
Many thanks to my colleague Jack for raising this unexpectedly rather interesting question.<br />
<i>A version of this article was originally published on my company internal blog.</i>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-55203713675619187272020-04-02T00:00:00.000+01:002020-05-04T13:54:32.037+01:00The extraordinary, everyday technology that's making the lockdown bearableLast night,
a small group of my friends tried a virtual games night for the first
time. The template was very helpfully set for me by a lunchtime social
that a colleague ran last week. The key elements are:<br />
<ul>
<li>Video conference so that we can see each other and the game screen.</li>
<li>Third-party hosted game that is already designed to be shared out onto participants' devices.</li>
</ul>
It was a
very fun and relaxed evening, and a welcome diversion from being stuck
at home indefinitely. What struck me afterwards was the sheer amount of
computing power needed to make all this work. This could
not have worked - or at least not as effectively - in any previous time
period.<br />
Because the
game and the video conferencing platforms were both "in the cloud",
it's impossible to say how much raw power they each provided. But I can
say with certainty that we used a minimum of thirteen computing
devices to power the games of five players, excluding all of the
internet infrastructure that connected us together:<br />
<ul>
<li>
Each player played on their own phone (5).</li>
<li>
Each household had a tablet or laptop to use for the video conferencing / screen sharing (3).</li>
<li>The game was hosted and
screenshared from my home PC, but since I didn't fancy sitting at my
desk all evening, I controlled it via remote desktop from an old laptop
(2).</li>
<li>
The game was supplied / licensed via <a href="https://store.steampowered.com/" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">
Steam</a> but required a third-party service (<a href="https://jackbox.tv/" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">jackbox.tv</a>) to play (2).</li>
<li>
Video conferencing and screensharing was via <a href="https://cart.webex.com/sign-up-webex" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">
Webex</a> [*], who are offering free personal accounts at the moment. (1)</li>
</ul>
It's easy to take all this for granted, but it's a fascinating reminder of the technological sophistication of the modern world.<br />
Having
tried it once, we'll definitely be doing it again soon, and will be
looking to increase the complexity of the games as well. I'm happy to
receive recommendations in the comments below :-)<br />
[*] Other
conferencing services are available; the most visible at the moment
seems to be Zoom, but I am not confident that they have
<a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-52133349" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">addressed</a> all of their
<a href="https://eandt.theiet.org/content/articles/2020/04/further-security-snafus-exhumed-amid-zoom-boom/" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">
security</a> and <a href="https://www.theregister.co.uk/2020/04/01/zoom_spotlight/" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">
privacy</a> <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/zoom-technology-security-coronavirus-video-conferencing" rel="noreferrer" target="_blank">
faults</a> yet.<br />
<i>A version of this article was originally published on my company internal blog.</i>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-49076057445332971132018-05-25T08:00:00.000+01:002018-05-25T08:00:07.031+01:00Gus<p>Ten years ago, on 25th May 2008, Gus, my friend, colleague, and erstwhile housemate, <a href="https://www.scotsman.com/news/obituaries/angus-hutchison-brown-1-1078381">died in an extreme sports accident</a>. He was 29. His death was untimely, violent and shocking to those who knew him in a professional capacity. It was also unusual enough to warrant <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/switzerland/2193288/Base-jumper-dies-after-stunt-goes-wrong.html">an obituary in the Telegraph</a> and <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1103214/Staring-death-face-The-truth-BASE-jumping.html">a feature in the Mail on Sunday</a>.</p>
<p>Above and apart from the understandable shock, grief and anger, my abiding memory of his funeral was how little we knew him. I lived with Gus for three years at the start of my career; worked alongside him for longer. We climbed together at least weekly, and drank beer together more often than that. At his funeral, I realised I simply did not understand what made him tick.</p>
<p>Eulogies were delivered in discrete little bunches. A senior manager talked about his professional life, using words that I had helped prepare. His family spoke, of course, but they were describing someone I barely recognised: a quiet choirboy, fiercely proud of his heritage. (In all the years I knew him, I never met any of his family until that day.)</p>
<p>And then his fellow BASE jumpers stood up to speak, <i>en masse</i>, in a robust defence of their sport and in defiance of we outsiders, who could barely comprehend how this happened, let alone why. According to the Mail article linked above, the BASE community subsequently met Gus's family and they made their peace. I had forgotten, I suppose, that they were in mourning too. But in the moment, it certainly felt like a crass move to be so brash at such a time. Yes, I was angry with them. I felt not only that they bore some responsibility for what had happened, but also that they were fooling themselves by defending and supporting an activity whose dangers had so vividly been illustrated. They would, I supposed, shortly be returning to jumping; and sooner or later, inevitably, somebody else's family, friends and colleagues would find themselves at the memorial for a life needlessly cut short.</p>
<p>I have often thought about Gus since. His death profoundly affects my understanding of, and appetite for, risk. It shapes my understanding of privacy: the sense that people close off parts of themselves, only opening up the facets that they want to share in tiny slivers to different audiences. But most clearly, it affects my understanding of <a href="https://iwrotethislive.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/why-do-i-get-up-in-morning.html"><i>ikigai</i></a>, his reason for living. Gus was a man who most certainly had his work-life balance exactly where he wanted it.</p>
<p>In the seven years I knew him, Gus was an exceptionally positive influence. He was politically aware and gave generously to charity - neither of which had occurred to me as a self-obsessed recent graduate setting out in the world of work. He pooh-poohed organised religion (a fact that might have surprised even his family, who arranged his funeral in a traditional CoE setting) but was a staunch supporter of human rights and social justice. He appreciated artistic films, great obscure music, good food, proper ale.</p>
<p>He didn't spend his early paycheques on flashy goods, as most of us grads probably did. He bought a modest car, a modest phone. For the first year or so, he didn't even buy a bed for his unfurnished room. Rather, he was spending most of his money - and spare time - on a hobby, travelling most weekends from Guildford to Nottingham to skydive. Over the early years that I knew him, this hobby started to grow. He started shooting and editing short films containing skydiving stunts, and they were often rather good. Later, he started jumping in a wingsuit.</p>
<p>I can't recall the exact time that he told me that he had started BASE jumping. I do remember that he explained it all to me quite carefully: the hierarchy, the mentoring, the licensing system. I also remember that I once put my foot in it by describing his activities to some of our mutual colleagues, who he would have preferred did not know. BASE jumping is not generally illegal, but very often involves some form of trespass and possible public order-type offences.</p>
<p>Gradually, I realised that he was spending more and more of his time participating in ever-riskier jumps. Almost everything he did outside of work - including, as it turned out, his interest in rock climbing - was in service to this hobby. He relayed to me some of the scariest incidents and I expect I made it known that I did not well understand this passion of his. In fact, not even his friends from the conventional skydiving community necessarily understood or condoned it. He described being chased by police; coming close to electrocution on top of a radio transmitter; and, most harrowingly, getting his parachute caught on an antenna guy cable, ending up suspended at a lethal height with no obvious prospect of getting free. Typically, the part of this incident that troubled him the most was that his parachute had been ruined by the guy wire's lubrication oil.</p>
<p>Even before all this, I had noted and commented on his seeming fearlessness. It was visible in his climbing, and in other activities such as go-karting, where he excelled. He once scaled the outside of his shared house in Gloucester to retrieve his housemate's room key, climbing in through a second-floor window without harness or ropes. In other contexts, that calculated risk-taking might have made him a formidable entrepreneur or stockbroker. But work was always the necessary enabler of his lifestyle; however good he was at his job, he had no interest in climbing the corporate ziggurat for its own sake.</p>
<p>However, the detail that I remember most clearly from his early BASE videos was not that fearlessness at all. In fact, he appeared to be pretty much terrified every time he jumped. This manifested itself in meticulous preparation for every jump, checking his equipment carefully and planning every "exit" with precision. And he did regularly cancel jumps if the conditions weren't perfect, even if he had spent ages planning and travelling. Despite everything, he was not at all reckless.</p>
<p>The thing that I most obviously failed to understand was just how accomplished and respected Gus had become as a BASE jumper in such a short period of time, and also his broadening scope and ambition. His passion for BASE had taken him to Norway and ultimately to Switzerland. Less than a fortnight before he died, he had travelled to Scotland to climb and jump from the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Man_of_Hoy">Old Man of Hoy</a>, a staggeringly difficult feat that I had barely even acknowledged for totally selfish reasons (he had undertaken the challenge in preference to a far more mundane activity that we had been planning together for some time).</p>
<p>Gus's death was an accident. It was not down to a lack of skill, experience or preparation. Nor was it due to a failure to appreciate the potential dangers. He was participating in a sport that he truly loved. If I still can't understand why he'd take such risks, that's my problem alone.</p>
<p>I have since read reports of other extreme sports accidents that do, in fact, give me a glimmer of understanding as to the reward part of his risk-reward calculation. The challenge of the climb, the exhilaration of the jump, the camaraderie, the deep technical skills, the pride of achieving a world-first jump. All of these attributes sound vastly more appealing than, say, an adventure-sport-turned-tourist-attraction with the potential for <a href="http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20151008-the-tragic-story-of-mt-everests-most-famous-dead-body">freezing to death and becoming a macabre permanent landmark on a remote mountainside</a>; or one in which a possible outcome is <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-36097300">drowning in the claustrophobic darkness of a deep cave system</a>. Both of these reports, while sensitively written, contain highly distressing details: they lay bare the grim reality of extreme sports gone very wrong despite the skill and precaution of the participants. (By way of slight relief, a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2018/feb/09/experience-rescued-someone-trapped-in-underwater-cave">recent Guardian feature</a> describes a vanishingly rare successful rescue of an inexperienced diver from an underwater cave. Her survival clearly depended entirely the level-headed bravery of her rescuer and a huge amount of luck.)</p>
<p>It's taken me a long time to come to terms with what I perceived as the troubling and selfish causes of my friend's death and the seemingly blasé response of the peer group that enabled him. There is never a right way to mourn; yet of course when we lose somebody close to us, we should try to honour them as best we can. While I have never felt compelled to try skydiving myself, Gus clearly offered much to admire and to emulate: his generosity, charity, humanity, integrity, wit and intelligence, and his passion and dedication to his sport. I shall continue to try to be as mindful as he was; and I shall continue to uphold my tradition of occasionally pouring myself a White Russian, and toasting my friend Gus.</p>
<p><i>Gus was born on 19th April 1979 in Norwich and grew up near Cromer, Norfolk. He graduated from the University of Nottingham in 2001 and started working with me in Guildford, Surrey, in September of that year. In around 2004, he moved to Gloucester for work, later returning to Guildford. He died in Meiringen, Switzerland on 25th May 2008. In the accompanying Mail On Sunday article, the photograph of Gus is incorrectly labelled: Gus is centre of the three men pictured. In the linked Wikipedia article on the Old Man Of Hoy, Gus's surname is spelt incorrectly.</i></p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-44275420888263565542018-04-07T15:00:00.000+01:002018-04-27T09:16:17.918+01:00Four little changes to help save the planet<h2>We were realistic about our aims<br />(we didn't believe claims of miracles)</h2>
<p>I'd been mulling a brief blog post on the subject of efficiency and environmental awareness, when I stumbled upon the following energy-saving tip from a reader in a weekend tabloid:</p>
<blockquote>Change your lightbulbs at home to LED versions. We did it and immediately saved £80 a month on the electric bill.</blockquote>
<p><i><a href="https://www.thesun.co.uk/money/5941960/sun-savers-readers-tips-win-25000/">Source</a>: The Sun, "Sun Savers", 30th March 2018; suggestion from Andrea Towler of Cleethorpes, Lincs.</i></p>
<p>This simple suggestion rattled me sufficiently to bring forward my planned post. Why? Because it's either hyperbole or an example of staggering waste. There's too much wilful ignorance in technology and mathematics already to allow this to go unchallenged. (Witness, for example, the number of celebrities who star on <em>8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown</em> - a comedy quiz panel show whose game element is almost half arithmetic - and then shamelessly both proclaim and prove themselves to be hopeless at even very basic numeracy.)</p>
<p>As an occasional <a href="https://www.stem.org.uk/stem-ambassadors">STEM Ambassador</a>, it feels like obvious exaggeration such as this needs to be exposed and explained - not just accepted as fact. I don't necessarily have the academic clout to point out statistical flaws in over-hyped research papers or to counter-argue snake-oil salesmen; I rely on the likes of <a href="http://www.badscience.net/">Ben Goldacre</a> and <a href="http://senseaboutscience.org/">Sense About Science</a> to do that. But I can at least run the numbers suggested here and demonstrate that they are almost certainly fictional - whether a simple mistake or an outright sensationalist lie.</p>
<p>If we assume that the replaced lightbulbs were 50W on average (perhaps halogen, otherwise genuine old-style incandescent bulbs of 40W - 60W) and that the replacement LEDs were 5W, then that's an energy saving of 90%. Meaning that, to save £80, the reader was spending almost £90 a month, just on lighting. For context, that's almost twice what we spend on household energy in total - heating, laundry, cooking and all. The only house that uses this much electricity on its lighting is one that happens to have a massive cannabis farm in its cellar.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.ukpower.co.uk/home_energy/tariffs-per-unit-kwh">The average UK electricity price is 14.37p per kWh</a>, so this reader was allegedly <strike>spending</strike> <em>wasting</em> almost 21kWh on lighting every day. That is virtually impossible for a normal house. That's more than forty 50W lightbulbs left on for ten hours every single day. If nothing else, that would be an incredible strain on the occupants' eyes, and the house would be uncomfortably warm in the summer. It would surely imply that the occupants leave all the lights on during the daylight hours, even in rooms that are unoccupied. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.ofgem.gov.uk/ofgem-publications/64026/domestic-energy-consump-fig-fs-pdf">OFGEM says that a typical house consumes 3,300kWh in a year</a> making these claimed savings sound even more implausible. Really, the only way that this story makes any sense at all is if Ms Towler meant to say that she saved £80 per year, not per month.</p>
<p>That all said, I did want to write a self-congratulatory blog post on energy savings because my household has done some good things to improve our environmental impact this year - without the expectation of miracles:</p>
<h2>We changed our energy provider</h2>
<p>The most common advice for saving on household energy costs - yet surprisingly rarely followed - is to shop around for a new supplier. (And shop around again when any introductory period ends.) Switching is genuinely easy. It takes about a month to process but both our old and new providers kept in touch throughout.</p>
<p>But we went further than simply trying to save a bit of money. There are now a decent number of smaller energy companies that not only offer better value unit rates than the big incumbents, but also provide electricity from 100% renewable sources. Our new provider also offers a welcome bonus for referrals, so get in touch if you're interested in switching.</p>
<p>And, of course, the more people who sign up to such a tariff, the better the market for renewable energy will be in the future. The UK is quietly <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/business/2017/06/07/uk-sets-new-renewable-energy-record-wind-solar-surge/"> doing pretty well</a> at generating electricity from renewable sources (including nuclear). The fascinating <a href="http://electricinsights.co.uk/">Electric Insights</a> shows how much of Britain's energy is being generated by different fuel sources in real time, and you can plot graphs showing generation (and demand) over different time periods.</p>
<p>But it's sad that even the relatively uncontroversial position of celebrating <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-43879564">Britain generating all of its electricity for a three-day period without the use of coal, for the first time since the 1880s</a> manages to get more than its fair share of scientifically-illiterate commentators attempting to disparage this milestone.</p>
<h2>We got rid of the most energy-hungry appliance</h2>
<p>Sometimes it's quite hard to identify which appliances are causing problems, which makes it hard to figure out where to make efficiency savings. Not in our case. We had an energy meter and it was pretty clear that there was one single thing that was energy hungry way above everything else in the house: the power shower. So we replaced it.</p>
<p>The energy meter worked by being clamped around the main electricity cable into the home; it did not need any specialist wiring. It then transmitted instantaneous and daily consumption data to a display unit. The display showed, without any doubt, that the shower was consuming some 7kW. Even a couple of relatively short showers in a day could easily account for half of our electricity consumption.</p>
<p>We could compare days when we weren't in the house (because we were on holiday, for example) with those that we were. Even when away, the house obviously uses some electricity for running the fridge, say, and the heater in our fish tank. On the days we were present, almost 100% of the electricity we used above top of this background level could be attributed to the shower. Everything else barely registered.</p>
<h2>We offset all of our carbon emissions</h2>
<p>Carbon offsetting is not just something that is done by large companies; individuals can do it too. Sometimes it is offered as an add-on to flight bookings. For everything else, individuals would need to pick a project to support that would provide the right level of offsetting.</p>
<p>The <a href="http://www.worldlandtrust.org/eco-services/offsetting/individuals">World Land Trust</a> is a reputable charity that can help with this. By "reputable", I mean that it is a UK-based charity that is endorsed by <a href="http://www.worldlandtrust.org/about/patrons">high-profile conservationists who ought to know what they are talking about</a>. The Trust provides a simple calculator for household energy use - including travel - that converts to a suggested charitable donation. The Trust then uses donations to buy land and plant forests in various places around the world, in conjunction with local charities and managed by local people.</p>
<p>Now clearly, not everybody can afford to make a one-off payment to offset a year's carbon emissions. But if it's a cause that you care about, you can use the offsetting calculator without commitment; and you can send charitable donations (which, being a UK charity, may include GiftAid) in smaller or regular payments, if you prefer. In our case, we found that the offset value was similar to the amounts that we were already donating to several other causes we care about.</p>
<h2>We changed our search engine</h2>
<p>Indisputably, it's easier to be virtuous when it's free. Sometimes a simple change of habit can make a big difference at no cost. <a href="https://www.ecosia.org/">Ecosia is a search engine</a> that uses its advertising revenues to plant trees - so that you can literally help to save the world every time you search. Search results are good and come with the added bonus of adding a thin layer of privacy. You can easily set Ecosia to be your browser's default search engine (they provide full instructions on their site). They also have an app - essentially a branded version of an open-source browser - so that you can continue to support them from your mobile device.</p>
<p>At the time of writing, Ecosia earns enough money to plant a tree every 1.1 seconds. That's improved even in the couple of months that I've been using the site.</p>
<p>With current concerns over privacy on the major search engines, lots of people are looking to switch. Some of the other suggestions are as good at searching, but none are as good for the planet.</p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-31464681886514173272017-11-30T17:20:00.000+00:002018-02-08T08:46:31.334+00:00Distributed social networking in 2017: a review<h2>Abstract</h2>
<p>In just the past ten years or so, use of social networking sites has grown to the stage where the market leaders can claim billions of active users. In some areas, social networks go far beyond simply connecting friends, but are users' primary source of news. Some social networks can even drive the traditional news, having a measurable effect on emerging events.
</p>
<p>Suffice it to say, then, that social networking is perceived as being as essential to many users as access to a TV, radio and landline phone would have been to our parents' generation. Yet a growing number of influential commentators and individuals are belatedly starting to realise that there is a data privacy trade-off inherent in using social network sites. Some networks (Google, Facebook, Twitter) are so ubiquitous that they are able to track users' activity on sites across the web, even when the user is not logged in, and sell this browsing data to advertisers. We are encouraged to share more and more personal information with these sites, on the basis that this allows our friends to connect with us better and for more targeted suggestions of other content (i.e. adverts). This is known as "surveillance capitalism".
</p>
<p>Beyond the privacy issue, there are concerns that old, potentially embarrassing data may resurface in the future and can never be truly deleted. There are concerns that the algorithmic selection of what to show in a user's feed means that people's perception of world events is being warped (called a "filter bubble"). There are concerns about centralising data in a country with extensive state powers to access that data covertly. And there are concerns that data is being used in inappropriate ways; for example, personal photos appearing as an integral part of an advert, to falsely imply a personal endorsement.
</p>
<p>What if there a way of keeping the features of a social network that make it useful to people - for example, the instant ability to make all your friends jealous of your holiday - but bake in privacy and control, to eliminate the types of undesirable behaviour listed above? Actually, we can already do this. The method is called distributed social networking, also known as decentralised or federated social networking. It's not well-known outside of a few niche circles, but it exists, under active usage and ongoing development.
</p>
<p>This review looks at two of the most mature distributed networks in an attempt to determine whether they will meet the needs of an average user.
</p>
<h2>Background</h2>
<p>Anyone who has read any mainstream media recently will know social networking is responsible for making millennials stupid <sup>[citation needed]</sup>, and is only ever used for broadcasting pictures of our breakfasts and / or our own legs in front of a tropical sunset <em>#SoBlessed #AnotherPinaColadaPlease #PleaseLikeThisSoICanFeelValidated</em>. A growing number of people are starting to recognise the uncomfortable privacy trade-off inherent in social networking as well: that we freely give up our personal information in exchange for access to a proprietary, closed communications system that, by design, spies on our most intimate moments, thoughts and preferences. They do this in order to sell us things and even to influence our own core beliefs.
</p>
<p>I downloaded my personal Facebook archive. I'd consider myself a light user, yet the archive exceeded 40MB and more than a thousand files. That's not including all the analytics data, the proprietary decision-making processes that enable Facebook to determine what kind of advertisers might be interested in reaching me. The archive contains all of my contacts (current and deleted), all of the events I've attended or ignored, all of the private message threads that I've participated in over more than a decade. It contains every ill-judged "joke" and comment, every embarrassing photo in which I have been tagged. It contains adverts I've recently clicked on (usually by accident).
</p>
<p>I don't mean to pick on Facebook, whose enormous success is down to many factors, including having engineered the most advanced software platform of any social network in the world. When my friends and I use Facebook, it is because it fulfils a useful function for us. We generally ignore the downsides, much like a meat-eater can put to the back of his mind the harsh realities of an abattoir. However, it is telling that the Wikipedia article entitled <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Criticism_of_Facebook">Criticism of Facebook</a> runs to some 20,000 words in length, excluding its references.
</p>
<p>It doesn't have to be that way. It is possible to have all the features we understand as being necessary to a social network, but free. That's free as in "beer", free as in "speech", free as in "you can leave whenever you want", and free as in "won't insinuate itself into your conversations, shouting at you to buy stuff."
</p>
<p>There are a number of open-source software projects that do social networking in a way familiar to any user of Facebook or Twitter. Some are thin veneers over other systems, offering additional functionality or some privacy protection but communicating over the underlying closed platform. Others are complete clones or imitations: <a href="https://mastodon.social/about">Mastodon</a>, for example, is basically the same as Twitter, except that the leader of the free world isn't doing diplomacy via Mastodon. And Mastodon has one huge privacy-friendly feature that Twitter doesn't have, and which we will be discussing in depth in this article: federation.
</p>
<p>How is this possible? Surely Twitter's unique selling point is that it is, in fact, unique? Well, yes, kind of. If you are looking to interact with celebrities (or, indeed, just your own friends), then clearly you need those celebrities (or your friends) to be on the same platform, or at least, on one that is compatible. In that sense, Twitter is unique.
</p>
<p>But when the tabloid press regularly blame social networking for all the world's ills, the key mistake that they make is to view all social media as some kind of ultra-advanced technology, only really understood by the kids. It isn't. Use cases vary, of course, but in principle a social network platform is simply a communications tool that allows ordinary users to upload "content" - words, pictures, videos - and for other users to respond in kind. Most newspaper websites' comments sections can do that. Simple blog software like WordPress can do that. But these other sites haven't scaled to build vast communities out of their contributors. The thing that really makes the major social media platforms work is that they are monopolies. And like any monopoly, especially one with shareholders, they can be abusive.
</p>
<p>(It's worth considering how they became monopolies, too, and think of all the other potential monopolies we might have had instead. Friends Reunited, Bebo and MySpace all had a far richer feature set than Twitter did at launch. Famously, most of Twitter's most well-known features, such as the convention of hashtags, were developed spontaneously by users as a workaround to the platform's own shortcomings.)
</p>
<p>There are alternative approaches to subverting this model. One way would be to develop software modelled on the features of, say, Facebook, but without centralising all the data in a way that makes it ripe for exploitation. Another way would be to build tools that minimally interact with the platform but which exercise additional controls over the top.
</p>
<p>I've already hinted at the solution. WordPress proves that the publication technology not only exists (for free), but can be packaged up for novice users to install on their own websites. It's a small step from there to building a trusted network of virtual publications, whose users can interact with one another. This is software that doesn't just connect publishing platforms together, but manages contacts, interactions and content permissions in a way that preserves the user's preferences and privacy, while also providing near real-time updates to contacts on other sites and networks.
</p>
<p>In this model of federated content platforms, users can choose to host their own servers if they feel strongly about privacy and have some technical skills, or they can choose to sign up to a server that somebody else is hosting already. For the purposes of this review, I looked at two of the biggest projects offering this model: <a href="https://diasporafoundation.org/">Diaspora</a> and <a href="https://friendi.ca/">Friendica</a>. These two networks can be federated together, so somebody on Diaspora can be friends with somebody on Friendica. This became very handy for testing. They aren't exactly identical, however, so this review will attempt to identify the strengths and weaknesses of each. Also, both projects are under active development, so features will change and improve over time.
</p>
<h2>How it works</h2>
<p>Both networks have a similar sign-up procedure. As a user, you can go to a list of nodes on the network (Diaspora calls them "pods"), select one you like the look of, and sign up. You might choose it because it's based in the same country or because it's been recommended to you or because it has useful plugins or because the graphics are pretty. But you definitely don't have to choose it on the basis that your friends are on the same pod already: all of the nodes communicate with one another.
</p>
<p>Or, if none of the nodes take your fancy, you can build your own. Download the software, install it, configure it. You, and you alone, are then responsible for the node's security and all of your own content. You can choose whether to let other people use your node or you can keep it for yourself.
</p>
<p>For testing purposes, I created an account on a Diaspora node based in Norway, and an account on a Friendica node based in Germany. I quickly discovered that having two accounts with the same real person name made for headaches when pinging test messages back and forth, so I doubled-down on this mistake by creating two more accounts with an identical pseudonym. My fictional friend Felicity and I, and my <em>other</em> fictional friend Felicity, and the <em>other</em> I, all became friends with one another and then spent a couple of weeks posting content back and forth between our two Diaspora and two Friendica instances. Yes, I spent a fortnight talking to myself for the purpose of this review. It is possible that I need more real-world friends.
</p>
<h2>Usability</h2>
<p>Both Diaspora and Friendica use familiar timeline-based activity streams. Both allow more stream management than Facebook does. For example, depending on how you have classified your contacts, you could view just your family's posts, or just your colleagues' posts; or all public material on a particular topic; sorted by most recent or by most relevant; and so on. It's much more flexible than Facebook's curated approach and, of course, you definitely won't have third-party adverts appearing in the stream, masquerading as content.
</p>
<p>This works the other way as well - whenever you post, you can choose which groups or individuals should see your posted content. You can even have multiple personal profiles reflecting different elements of your life, and you can configure your account to work either symmetrically (for example, friends who mutually share with you, as in Facebook) or asymmetrically (for example, for fans to "follow" your work, without you following them back, as in Twitter).
</p>
<p>Friendica offers some more functionality than Diaspora, but it's sometimes a bit clunky. Here are some features that Friendica has that Diaspora does not:
</p>
<ul>
<li>Calendar and shared events</li>
<li>Photo albums</li>
<li>Edit existing posts</li>
<li>Threaded conversations under posts</li>
<li>Subscribe to RSS feeds</li>
<li>Move accounts between nodes (this feature is described as "experimental", and did not work very well when I tried it towards the end of testing; it did not deactivate the old account, so that I ended up with two functional instances of the same account)</li>
</ul>
<p>Features of Diaspora that Friendica does not have:</p>
<ul>
<li>Private messaging to multiple recipients at once (Friendica's UI doesn't support this, but the protocol does - so perhaps it is coming soon)</li>
<li>Built-in instant message (XMPP chat) support, integrated to Diaspora contacts</li>
</ul>
<p>Both networks allow you to plug in or connect to other platforms. For example, you can cross-post from Friendica to Facebook or Twitter. In the other direction, I tried a WordPress plugin that posts blog entries straight to Diaspora, and it worked fine. The import and export services available on any given pod or node will differ according to the node admin's preferences and patience.
</p>
<h2>Look and feel</h2>
<p>In my view, Diaspora has a more professional appearance, but also a more austere one. Friendica's interface is a bit friendlier but seems unfinished in places.
</p>
<p>The software versions of the two Diaspora instances I tested were different, but the overall look and feel was very similar. There are some basic customisation options for colours and layouts.
</p>
<p>Conversely, the two Friendica instances I tested had quite significantly different default themes, despite being on the same version of the software. Friendica also allows customisation of colours according to pre-defined templates or even custom colours for basic page elements.
</p>
<p>As part of testing, I installed Android clients for both networks. Both of the Friendica ones I tried were simply terrible - unfinished, unreliable and ugly. The main Diaspora app is a thin veneer over the website. It works well enough, except that it thoughtlessly draws over the website's perfectly functional notifications area with a tool bar in which notifications don't work. In other words, the experience is better on the websites of both Diaspora and Friendica than in their apps. Both websites have mobile modes and respond well to smaller screens.</p>
<h2>Security</h2>
<p>All your contacts can be assigned to a group (Diaspora calls them "aspects") such as Friends, Family, Work. You can choose which posts are visible by which of your contacts or groups, or you can post publicly.
</p>
<p>I found the default permissions on Friendica to be a bit misleading at first - although some of this was simply down to my lack of familiarity. Once I'd realised my mistake, I also found that retrospectively changing the permissions caused some strange side effects, including content disappearing for some of my established contacts. Additionally, some activity that I erroneously posted publicly remained visible after I deleted the associated content.
</p>
<p>Your profile information and comments will always be available publicly if you respond to a public post.</p>
<h2>Reliability</h2>
<p>In the course of my testing, I took pages of notes. It would not be particularly interesting to relate all of the bugs I found. Both platforms had their share of quirky behaviour, but they generally worked as intended (once operator error was eliminated). Friendica had a couple of incidents in which post edits weren't saved, which is partly what leads me to believe Diaspora is marginally more robust.
</p>
<p>Some functionality did not appear to work at all, but this could be a problem with the individual instances. For example, Diaspora includes a chat widget but I could not get this to work, which I suspect is a problem with my particular pod's XMPP configuration.</p>
<h2>Federation</h2>
<p>Contacts on Diaspora and Friendica, along with certain other platforms, can communicate with one another natively, although within the feature constraints of the respective platforms. For example, Diaspora users won't see threads in comments under posts, and won't see shared calendar events.
</p>
<p>Some of the differences between the platforms are much more frustrating and there are no obvious workarounds. For example, a photo published on Friendica as anything other than fully public will not appear on Diaspora, even if embedded as part of a larger post that is visible to contacts. The Friendica and Diaspora permissions models are not compatible. In contrast, Diaspora makes photos available via a secret URL; anyone with the URL can see the photo. Therefore, Friendica users can see Diaspora photos.
</p>
<p>Other than that issue, generally, Diaspora seems better at receiving and caching data from other nodes. This makes it more resilient to nodes becoming temporarily unavailable. By contrast, Friendica tends to assume that content on other nodes will always be available; if a node becomes unavailable for some reason, then profile and content on that data will temporarily disappear from feeds on other nodes.
</p>
<p>There are some particular quirks around subscriptions to public posts. Diaspora users subscribe to topics of interest using a hashtag and will see public posts with those tags in their timeline. But the exact posts seen vary by pod. For example, both Felicity and I subscribed to <em>#italy</em> and our timelines were similar, but not identical. I understand this to be a peculiarity of the way that Diaspora federates public posts that aren't from users being directly followed.
</p>
<p>Diaspora also suffers from moderate levels of pseudo-spam in the form of unwanted public posts. It's easy to block a user, but I wonder whether this will escalate in future. Spam posts may be from well-meaning but prolific users who have tagged their content badly; or it may be that I am being too general in subscribing to a generic term like <em>#technology</em>. There are also "bot" accounts on Diaspora that take content from third-party sites, attempt to classify it, and then re-publish it, with mixed results.</p>
<h2>Self-hosting</h2>
<p>In signing up to a node hosted by someone else, you are placing your trust in them. They are probably hosting the node for their own fun and education. They probably don't have a complaints department when things go wrong. There is a chance that they will lose your data or simply shut down without warning.
</p>
<p>For the privacy-conscious user, the ultimate goal of joining a federated social network must be to take personal control of a node and all its content. I did not test this, but did read through the instructions for installing both. I am personally comfortable working on a LAMP stack, as used by Friendica; but less familiar with the Ruby framework on which Diaspora is built. The Friendica instructions are written in plain English and targeted at the level of someone with familiarity with configuring WordPress, Drupal or similar on a shared hosting package. Overall, the Diaspora instructions felt rather more complex and the system pre-requisites greater. I do not believe that Diaspora could be installed successfully on a shared hosting account; a VPS would be the minimum requirement.
</p>
<p>It is not clear to me how much system resources (hard disk storage and bandwidth) each network would consume. It is also not entirely clear to me how the administrator of a node would set about moderating content, ensuring legal compliance etc. For these two reasons, were I to set up a personal node, I would not allow the public to sign up. I appreciate that this attitude is not strictly in the collaborative spirit of these networks, especially as I have taken advantage of four nodes whose admins have been willing to do exactly that.
</p>
<p>The effect of other users on the same node can be unexpectedly far-reaching. The administrator of one of the nodes on which I have an account posted a public message to the effect that the Diaspora-to-Twitter connector would no longer function. One of the pod's users had breached Twitter's Ts&Cs and now all users from that pod were blocked. I think this is a clear over-reaction from Twitter, who would have had the individual user's credentials and could have blocked just that user, but it demonstrates a level of brittleness in the component model.</p>
<h2>Volume, reach and retention</h2>
<p>It is extremely hard to quantify how many active users are on each network. There is a site that attempts to collate these statistics, called <a href="http://the-federation.info">the-federation.info</a>. Its headline figures are deeply disappointing. Friendica shows 403 active users. That's not a typo; there are no missing thousands or millions here. Diaspora has more at around 16,000, of whom more than a quarter are on a single pod.
</p>
<p>The problem with collating this data is that it relies on statistics collected across a federated network. Not all nodes provide accurate data, or any data at all. I think we can safely say that the-federation.info is underestimating the number of active users. However, even at our most optimistic, we are still many orders of magnitude away from the reach of the centralised leaders.
</p>
<p>Worse, the number of active users vs total registered users shows that the vast majority of people who sign up do not stick with it long-term. If they cannot retain early adopters - the most privacy conscious people, or those who have been nudged into joining via their communities of interest - then it seems unlikely that the networks will grow in the long term. (Some Friendica servers automatically delete non-active users, so the numbers of active and inactive users tend to track one another.)
</p>
<p>Yet when signing up for a Diaspora account for Felicity, it actually took a number of attempts to find a valid username that had not already been taken. Felicity is not exactly a common name in Germany, where the pod is located. This is consistent with large numbers of no-longer active users; perhaps those who, like me, signed up out of curiosity but without a long-term intention to stay.
</p>
<p>Friendica has a centralised directory of people who have chosen to opt-in to sharing their details. Again, it's a depressingly small volume, measured in the hundreds. Of these, the largest population is from Germany. Unsurprisingly, a large fraction of those in the directory have <em>#linux</em> in their profile. In fact, Linux is a good analogue for Friendica: it's mature enough to be functional, free (beer / speech), yet fails to appeal to the mass population. Linux has been consistently touted as being ready for widespread adoption for years. Similarly, Diaspora and Friendica have both been touted in the (technology) press as being good alternatives to centralised social media since at least 2012, but have apparently not made the impact they deserve.</p>
<h2>Use cases</h2>
<p>I don't personally use social media for consuming world news. I use it to stay in touch with friends, especially those with whom I used to be close, but now live far away or are busy with families and work. My main criterion for connecting with someone on Facebook is: if I met up with this person tonight, would I offer to buy them a beer? I don't, personally, expect to reach large audiences of strangers through social media, largely because I don't want to end up on either side of a political flame war. I'm certainly not going to win thousands of followers on the strength of this blog or my so-called poetry.
</p>
<p>Sometimes I want to share pictures of my family in a way which preserves our privacy. In the past, I have done this through a personal website with password protection. This still seems to be the favoured approach for my technology-literate friends at the time of a major family event such as a wedding. In this case, you don't need to authenticate particular users, merely restrict access to those who know the password. Diaspora and Friendica would fail in this use case, because they would require each contact to sign up to a service that they don't really want. Also, due to the way federation works, they would have to become a mutual contact before publishing any useful information; it is not possible to view information published before the sharing relationship began.
</p>
<p>In the workplace, we use several different social / content platforms. Each is a walled garden. SharePoint for corporate data; Confluence for engineering data; both Skype and Slack for instant messaging. Lacking the more persistent content management aspects, Diaspora and Friendica would fail this use case, too (although the Friendica-related Hubzilla project might be worth a look).
</p>
<p>There may be niche areas where the federated approach helps to protect the identities of activists and whistleblowers, putting them out of reach of the (mainly US) legal system. The ugly flipside of this anonymity is that they would also offer a haven for criminal activity. And the distributed nature of the network doesn't necessarily help here either: it would be far easier for a legal authority to block a Friendica node on the basis of alleged illegal activity, than it would be for it to take down the whole of Twitter. I cannot test this, of course, but I suspect Diaspora's sharing model to be slightly more robust against this eventuality than Friendica's.
</p>
<p>After much thought, then, I have yet to come up with a compelling use case that not just caters to ordinary users, but would attract them to switch away from the incumbents in large numbers. Indeed, the only way I can see either network really turning their meagre toehold into the critical mass that they deserve is if a large, federated organisation suddenly decided to endorse the network. For example, we might imagine a scenario in which the National Union of Students mandates each member union builds and maintains a Friendica node. Students could sign up to their local node to stay in touch with friends at other universities. When they leave the university, they could migrate their profile to an alumni node or their own preferred server. This hypothetical growth would nicely mirror the original growth of Facebook, which started off as an invitation-only network in US universities.
</p>
<p>If you regularly cross-post to several social networks, and consume RSS feeds, then you could consider signing up for an account on one of the platforms to use as your main publishing home. Perhaps, in the future, more people will migrate and you might make some new friends on the platform.
</p>
<p>For everybody else, and with some regret, I must conclude that Friendica and Diaspora are just not ready for you to use in earnest. Not because the software is immature or non-functional, but simply because your friends aren't ready to follow you there.</p>
<h2>Credits</h2>
<p>Many thanks to the owners / admins of the open sign-up servers that I used during testing, who are paying for my experiments in terms of bandwidth and storage costs. Those servers were: <a href="http://ege.land">EgeLand</a> (David, Diaspora, monkey avatar); <a href="http://JoinDiaspora.com">JoinDiaspora.com</a> (Felicity, Diaspora, Fio avatar); <a href="http://friendica.me">friendica.me</a> (David, Friendica, Buddha statue avatar); and <a href="http://nerdica.net">nerdica.net</a> (Felicity, Friendica, Ronja avatar).</p>
<h2>Further reading: perspectives on using Friendica in conjunction with established networks</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.linux-magazine.com/Online/Features/Social-and-Private-with-Friendica">Linux Magazine, "Developing for a Post-Facebook World" by Bruce Byfield</a>. Comments from the lead developer of Friendica: "I currently interact daily with friends on Facebook, Twitter, Diaspora*, Identi.ca, and Friendica - all from within Friendica. I also have friends in my stream who only have email addresses and RSS feeds ... It shouldn't matter if your friends use Facebook or Google+ or Friendica or Diaspora or anything else. They're all just pieces of software you use to access your social communications. We want to break down the walled gardens and show them for what they are: corporate walls that were built for business goals and actually prevent you from communicating with friends, unless you become a member of every different service."</p>
<p><a href="https://sonatagreen.com/friendica/">Clear Linen Tea blog, "Friendica" by Sonata Green</a>. Relatively recent (2016) blog post argues that Friendica offers a superior and functional way of connecting social networks together, as well as outlining some of the objections raised above. "Friendica can, like Diaspora*, post to traditional social networks. Unlike Diaspora*, though, Friendica can read from them as well. This two-way connection means that, using Friendica, I can engage in conversations with people on Twitter and tumblr and Diaspora*, all through a single unified interface on a single site that I control. Furthermore, these different networks aren't just collated - they're integrated. Because my Friendica is connected to both my Twitter and my tumblr, this means that my Twitter and my tumblr are - through Friendica - connected to each other."
</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnQKJpoXR2BOpL37Ew8lXsMLRsqgPFnlkAx9-2rDIKGAk_luF9j73ayInheAqPVvqE1Y2nh5sxXeIQi076S5hMYeiycrJYQBXCLjNUpIkXebhu6Kwfck4iAEf5X19BZBGoezv/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_notifications.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Diaspora Android notifications" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnQKJpoXR2BOpL37Ew8lXsMLRsqgPFnlkAx9-2rDIKGAk_luF9j73ayInheAqPVvqE1Y2nh5sxXeIQi076S5hMYeiycrJYQBXCLjNUpIkXebhu6Kwfck4iAEf5X19BZBGoezv/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_notifications.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidywW393T7cGs_VFTnBdrWnPGw7Nz2OHw1W4wKOjkarKIxrlYZSNZWpFnIQRCVAieLgeyty3kzGrveXGbr7gwVCxaP9boC8v1o_oqyhsPr0eC1GBtOzvjWj60LjNnGSUJuBkdx/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_post_and_comments.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Diaspora Android post and comments" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidywW393T7cGs_VFTnBdrWnPGw7Nz2OHw1W4wKOjkarKIxrlYZSNZWpFnIQRCVAieLgeyty3kzGrveXGbr7gwVCxaP9boC8v1o_oqyhsPr0eC1GBtOzvjWj60LjNnGSUJuBkdx/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_post_and_comments.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0OuDf2ZbSX4LDNiOxNncv6h2tp_V_p6Kd4P3y9jy6pxozmz-Dg2DtQHjHoprdPRnzqd5ZFSJne_mwtme6Xb-hDscSCMYhtDoOwL2nExUGpZ1O1sb0nRZaTco1Qd3OkR3vTEw/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_private_messages.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Diaspora Android private messages" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0OuDf2ZbSX4LDNiOxNncv6h2tp_V_p6Kd4P3y9jy6pxozmz-Dg2DtQHjHoprdPRnzqd5ZFSJne_mwtme6Xb-hDscSCMYhtDoOwL2nExUGpZ1O1sb0nRZaTco1Qd3OkR3vTEw/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_Android_private_messages.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFUZHQa6EC-XBHN0HhZNUjZqUpS0Wm4NonpiXNZjtiKviNMVo8-ynv8GyPmZaDYUwRCTaz6H1k0V-L3RAlgVYKOD7SHaPFp5HlKExsxUhpzJyrHtLOPCwV93-mMC55WHRZ2gP/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_find_people.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" title="Diaspora desktop find people" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFUZHQa6EC-XBHN0HhZNUjZqUpS0Wm4NonpiXNZjtiKviNMVo8-ynv8GyPmZaDYUwRCTaz6H1k0V-L3RAlgVYKOD7SHaPFp5HlKExsxUhpzJyrHtLOPCwV93-mMC55WHRZ2gP/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_find_people.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexWQOhTkA8sgjtO7tM5jEaQRhWwEXpUeh3HS2NB5D3uf0wmcW0bvefpEGZDqqROJdI2I970qwDdwMN3g9BUq54I_CX8bvk5uGeQ4KeEQCHtQCEGHPP6RjAwGbrAFRRPsaCKE9/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_web_contacts.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Diaspora desktop contacts list" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexWQOhTkA8sgjtO7tM5jEaQRhWwEXpUeh3HS2NB5D3uf0wmcW0bvefpEGZDqqROJdI2I970qwDdwMN3g9BUq54I_CX8bvk5uGeQ4KeEQCHtQCEGHPP6RjAwGbrAFRRPsaCKE9/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_web_contacts.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvocL-G4qgmo0efugN0typLMtvwd3_4u2l6dCoQWOMXJpyBp6WIRvcRJ8Ct6R2DfsiKZFtE2Uxi1CwdNPNAMOUPZKvX-Uf_pebJtoH_KlZe21mlbJ3tAmDjbq5B3lFPBAJj9q/s1600/Screenshot_Diaspora_web_private_messages.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Diaspora desktop private messages" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvocL-G4qgmo0efugN0typLMtvwd3_4u2l6dCoQWOMXJpyBp6WIRvcRJ8Ct6R2DfsiKZFtE2Uxi1CwdNPNAMOUPZKvX-Uf_pebJtoH_KlZe21mlbJ3tAmDjbq5B3lFPBAJj9q/s320/Screenshot_Diaspora_web_private_messages.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPW4M_MXr8SvNHruDXbMwKeC75PNvIT-fkYDzf5VzCt4ST5bXtjBy_Hkv2zeJCSuH2I-VGwUPqq7z2GhjH_nygbqHncy0wbb0FrqOy0SJdFQSphQqi6cxLpi3izrUutu7csCp/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_albums.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" title="Friendica photo albums" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPW4M_MXr8SvNHruDXbMwKeC75PNvIT-fkYDzf5VzCt4ST5bXtjBy_Hkv2zeJCSuH2I-VGwUPqq7z2GhjH_nygbqHncy0wbb0FrqOy0SJdFQSphQqi6cxLpi3izrUutu7csCp/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_albums.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaEoHlLGu-7cg-42mrOUvRoF9kIDiefFE19NMkr-R-V6sAVV2Io5Zzkf-DgNHVmCLduJHVTaDpHEFow3jKtOoNwHnd0cYjKe9KUgSAjv44NkFEN0RX46XJmprVJmDvvs2Gakv/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_calendar.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica calendar" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaEoHlLGu-7cg-42mrOUvRoF9kIDiefFE19NMkr-R-V6sAVV2Io5Zzkf-DgNHVmCLduJHVTaDpHEFow3jKtOoNwHnd0cYjKe9KUgSAjv44NkFEN0RX46XJmprVJmDvvs2Gakv/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_calendar.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1l6L9XzUPzLlvpyZbyv8d66GDXIYtahT2bcorFNNz5RivW905XJbHUKuiNBs0s5gs5KlWwBe1XlKPfXWHjxS2cQlgOtXBH8nz-o-AKTzr2CEs2kyapQ2nprRMjdpNM_DmNKa/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_contacts.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica contacts" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1l6L9XzUPzLlvpyZbyv8d66GDXIYtahT2bcorFNNz5RivW905XJbHUKuiNBs0s5gs5KlWwBe1XlKPfXWHjxS2cQlgOtXBH8nz-o-AKTzr2CEs2kyapQ2nprRMjdpNM_DmNKa/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_contacts.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga53BeKB6pl2FdeLKMQgNx6vaQypbPGw4tOonJeY9yGlLdgAR8DoT9FlqNVK6GSr2T-5t8hyphenhyphenfKKSSBYTH7Ul1EBxzfzOHRlgvxWaq1MQBIujeyqsxNAlAYgA2LUu6IFmeOdQMF/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_find_people.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica find people" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga53BeKB6pl2FdeLKMQgNx6vaQypbPGw4tOonJeY9yGlLdgAR8DoT9FlqNVK6GSr2T-5t8hyphenhyphenfKKSSBYTH7Ul1EBxzfzOHRlgvxWaq1MQBIujeyqsxNAlAYgA2LUu6IFmeOdQMF/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_find_people.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoALpWhzNA16Uy4Bw1VTu9QqAfY8eE9qtuS6vJlVbxL94-9pWH4VY1kIEzJ_UrXo8yngFUlC_vEK6B-b2sw4BQnYdHKcIZSsiKFPx9pHPxt-9OXW0CcWcGkEWWtd9T1TtuMr8/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_notifications.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica notifications" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoALpWhzNA16Uy4Bw1VTu9QqAfY8eE9qtuS6vJlVbxL94-9pWH4VY1kIEzJ_UrXo8yngFUlC_vEK6B-b2sw4BQnYdHKcIZSsiKFPx9pHPxt-9OXW0CcWcGkEWWtd9T1TtuMr8/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_notifications.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsdTcHFp4GDV91KihNZWORHzqb-rggwDw1imh-6CUT0lV7UV97HF5V9zR3RRUR4Yp0tmPQgiOiqGeSOG-vkjqd1RVYh6cW0XhxRbENe91IGMiPZLQtvdIG3c-2HEcI8XlwTYM/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_notifications_alt_theme.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica notifications - alternate theme" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsdTcHFp4GDV91KihNZWORHzqb-rggwDw1imh-6CUT0lV7UV97HF5V9zR3RRUR4Yp0tmPQgiOiqGeSOG-vkjqd1RVYh6cW0XhxRbENe91IGMiPZLQtvdIG3c-2HEcI8XlwTYM/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_notifications_alt_theme.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaJjn0OqvjJQFqaD1kLzBlhDyOykeJH1yR2qREQBjCfV1YynfwZ9nLvdS2w0fe84__pkAA_XpI113fMu-172C3BUdbb-UhqUDrTeI9Ydqer4L-weS3GovUTJ1WSuliw8yShKx/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_post_and_comments.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica post and comments" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaJjn0OqvjJQFqaD1kLzBlhDyOykeJH1yR2qREQBjCfV1YynfwZ9nLvdS2w0fe84__pkAA_XpI113fMu-172C3BUdbb-UhqUDrTeI9Ydqer4L-weS3GovUTJ1WSuliw8yShKx/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_post_and_comments.png" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHdvsNJSrA_h0zrtDrRc8uSOwfZnMONPB2eI6fMvyp6gjgFJcAJn7d0JeeRAx4XnNnQgQgczaMXuVJosK5ZyXo9hbz52XY69JMrqL_HmSvNbffpmkQwQ0b3aruK-jnusEGIHq/s1600/Screenshot_Friendica_private_messages.png" imageanchor="1"><img title="Friendica private message" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHdvsNJSrA_h0zrtDrRc8uSOwfZnMONPB2eI6fMvyp6gjgFJcAJn7d0JeeRAx4XnNnQgQgczaMXuVJosK5ZyXo9hbz52XY69JMrqL_HmSvNbffpmkQwQ0b3aruK-jnusEGIHq/s320/Screenshot_Friendica_private_messages.png" width="320" /></a>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-90884949008877337682017-10-01T20:00:00.000+01:002017-10-05T10:26:25.651+01:00100-word fiction: Time to leave<p>Hi, Mum. Sorry we haven’t been to visit. How have you been?</p>
<p>Did you see the news this morning? Yes, it looks really bad this time.</p>
<p>I’m going to take the children away from here. There’s a group leaving any minute. I have to go straight away – they are waiting for me outside.</p>
<p>I thought of staying longer, but it’s not a good idea to wait. I can’t promise that we will be safe where we’re going, but I’m certain we aren’t safe here.</p>
<p>They are calling for me now. I have to go.</p>
<p>I love you, Mummy.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-92204069931877944002017-10-01T00:00:00.000+01:002017-10-05T10:23:22.312+01:00100-word fiction: Look who's back!<p>He's just there, sitting gormlessly at the bare table. He
looks at me, eyes empty, gulps and says nothing.</p>
<p>"Look who’s back!" she breezes, fussing around to make him
comfortable. A teacup and saucer clatter down. I jump. He doesn't.</p>
<p>He hasn't aged. Ten years and he looks precisely the same.</p>
<p>My fists clench. Offended that he should reappear like this;
sickened that he left in the first place.</p>
<p>He is not real. He is an imposter. He is a ghost. I am angry
and I am scared.</p>
<p>Her face warns that my urgent questions must wait.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-80801742047388189602017-08-17T16:00:00.000+01:002018-02-07T14:29:25.637+00:00Why do I get up in the morning?<p><em>Why am I here? Do I enjoy my job? Am I happy? Where do I go next?</em></p>
<p>Unless you are very lucky indeed, your current job is probably not where you feel at your happiest. You may strive for promotion, or for a similar role for more pay. You may feel that you are struggling - or that you are bored, or that you lack direction or meaning.</p>
<p>This year's favourite lifestyle concept, hot on the heels of last year's <em>hygge</em>, appears to be in a position to help us answer some of these questions. Perhaps more importantly, it can provide a useful perspective to those of us for whom career conversations do not come as naturally, and who need a starting point to explore our aspirations.</p>
<p>Way back in the mists of time when I started out in <a href="https://iwrotethislive.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/a-business-operations-manager-is.html">Business Operations</a>, I did quite a bit of work in my own time on morale and incentivisation in the company. Some of it was practical (such as proposals for changing the way we measure performance) and some of it entirely theoretical. I sketched the following diagram to help me get to grips with the causes and effects of morale. It shows that:</p>
<ul><li>There are competing pressures between the things that we <strong>want</strong> to do, the things we are <strong>good at</strong> doing, and the things that <strong>need</strong> to be done.</li>
<li>The sweet spot is in the middle - we like it, we're good at it, and it's needed.</li>
<li>There are always ways of moving our work towards the middle segment. Some of these actions are personal (identifying your training needs, say, or your own values and aspirations). Some are external (supporting functions, provision of training and mentoring, help in balancing your workload).</li>
<li>For activities that we don't want to be doing, we can try to move tasks out of our remit altogether - perhaps by training other people, or engaging with other functions or support staff.</li></ul>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq0MQsQH1nzyaoGFOtBCGoUU87JOdO4uD-vIQukuCZvCI54vPdH9TlS8VZwyF4WnM8QjmMVIlHQCaasghYdbwX5a6FqcVn4QvW_Ece8hDsxKFInyLbJqtRMrNdB_9XtpF4a1s/s1600/MyMoralePlan.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Venn diagram showing circles for likes, talents and duties" alt="My Morale Plan" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq0MQsQH1nzyaoGFOtBCGoUU87JOdO4uD-vIQukuCZvCI54vPdH9TlS8VZwyF4WnM8QjmMVIlHQCaasghYdbwX5a6FqcVn4QvW_Ece8hDsxKFInyLbJqtRMrNdB_9XtpF4a1s/s320/MyMoralePlan.png" width="320" height="304" data-original-width="812" data-original-height="772" /></a>
<p>But as it turns out, I didn't invent this at all. Search for <em>ikigai</em> and a diagram remarkably like this one turns up regularly. All that's different is that it adds a fourth circle for <strong>remuneration</strong>.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZagdFTy6BF3kOFMr_gARS4HEkXVUezaaGpa5MGl8_U8GToqVO0NfpHXsxCP2sa-4XzZ3ft81McXXW0id8gZJ9KInAnHO-8cWdxIctgJcMWaoacxrrAN2WxAMeP7Aib1WOAJmc/s1600/ikigai-traditional.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Traditional ikigai Venn diagram showing circles for loves, needs, paid for, good at" title="Ikigai" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZagdFTy6BF3kOFMr_gARS4HEkXVUezaaGpa5MGl8_U8GToqVO0NfpHXsxCP2sa-4XzZ3ft81McXXW0id8gZJ9KInAnHO-8cWdxIctgJcMWaoacxrrAN2WxAMeP7Aib1WOAJmc/s320/ikigai-traditional.png" width="320" height="226" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1132" /></a>
<p>Ikigai is the Japanese concept of "reason for being", or "life purpose". And it's all the rage in the West right now - in just the past couple of weeks there have been in-depth articles in <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health-fitness/mind/finding-ikigai-japanese-secret-health-happiness/">The Telegraph</a> and <a href="http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20170807-ikigai-a-japanese-concept-to-improve-work-and-life">BBC Capital</a>. Each offers a totally different perspective and both are well worth reading.</p>
<p>Now, we can probably critique this model. (And not just, as the BBC article states, because it's a distortion of the original Japanese meaning of ikigai.) But it probably broadly holds for many jobs and for many of us. Replace the "paid for" circle with something a bit more generic - because it's technically possible not to be paid for some jobs, but to be supported in other ways instead - and we're nearly there.</p>
<p>In my workplace, though, people are in a secure job, are well-paid, and do interesting work - yet they still, too-often, express discontent. Or, to put it another way, despite the obvious perks of work here, people still feel undervalued and leave the company. So let me propose a fifth circle. We can call this <strong>enablement</strong>, in the sense of provision of the tools, authority and support to allow us to get on with our jobs. It might also encompass intangible support, such as praise and recognition for a job well done.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Mp3Bhllqc4_gEbEmqthkhN5BkFWinzFl0Zj4CHTUP0eCUdYpB_01HzMtKz-A-WjzpYBWtKmNAniq_0TTPCQZgL1nsZW1GxyfKh_Isb-y3nEuMbgGOkn0fxsvZkRnN-fN1CDx/s1600/ikigai-externalised-vs-traditional.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Ikigai Venn diagram with an additional circle for enablement" title="Externalised ikigai" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Mp3Bhllqc4_gEbEmqthkhN5BkFWinzFl0Zj4CHTUP0eCUdYpB_01HzMtKz-A-WjzpYBWtKmNAniq_0TTPCQZgL1nsZW1GxyfKh_Isb-y3nEuMbgGOkn0fxsvZkRnN-fN1CDx/s320/ikigai-externalised-vs-traditional.png" width="320" height="226" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1132" /></a>
<p>Now we can see clearly that our ikigai is dependent both on ourselves - what we like, what we want to be doing - and on our employer. We have externalised some of the reasons why we might be satisfied or dissatisfied at work. Anybody who's done a mentoring training course will know that externalisation is generally a bad thing. It often correlates to low engagement ("I can't change the current system") and assigning blame ("I didn't get a promotion because the system is broken").</p>
<p>But my original sketch shows that job satisfaction, or even life satisfaction, changes by moving between the segments of the diagram, and that is true of both internal and external factors. In my organisation, there are both line management chains and networks of peers and mentors, who can help to overcome the external factors affecting staff dissatisfaction. They can do this by:</p>
<ul><li>helping the individual to set goals (so that they own the solutions in order to overcome the external blocker);</li>
<li>sending the individual on training (enabling them to become better at meeting their goals);</li>
<li>placing the individual in a new role (meeting your aspirations);</li>
<li>listening to the individual's concerns (providing support and backup);</li>
<li>in some cases, referring the individual to counselling through our Employee Assistance Programme (to help understand external factors over which the company has no control, such as relationship problems or money worries).</li></ul>
<p>In fact, all you actually have to do is work out which segment you are currently in. From there, it should be reasonably straightforward to identify the relevant changes needed to get you on your journey to ikigai and the support that you will need to achieve this.</p>
<p>The following diagrams show some of the characteristics that might be expected of a role in each segment. Each subsequent diagram moves closer to the goal at the centre. Note that these are entirely my own views, not part of the conventional understanding of ikigai - I would welcome your feedback.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfLsOls6rs4TEmL8U1y0-nMjEojVnta5EwSVStw9HEMItBZ7d12B_eTM2Ie5GRgePbzBgPuziVZMSctS3Bu7MaRwBmKSZEyHK11rX9cxzruEvGRJFMWh0Q3e7TDBz7hcOlI6J/s1600/ikigai-externalised-40pc.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Ikigai Venn diagram showing characteristics of each set of two overlapping circles" title="Externalised ikigai - 40% layer" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfLsOls6rs4TEmL8U1y0-nMjEojVnta5EwSVStw9HEMItBZ7d12B_eTM2Ie5GRgePbzBgPuziVZMSctS3Bu7MaRwBmKSZEyHK11rX9cxzruEvGRJFMWh0Q3e7TDBz7hcOlI6J/s320/ikigai-externalised-40pc.png" width="320" height="226" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1132" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sYxeTN_2SDVfCPogEKEUwu2HGvWMq57kfLXvdTIwpXZp2YCHFOT1eKb_gH1yO93xr8iYPkM2Soh18EX9_QlAZBMhBO2ga7mRfAV1-7huSqOwaY7plsY5-kp8yHmg22SBeLK5/s1600/ikigai-externalised-60pc.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Ikigai Venn diagram showing characteristics of each set of three overlapping circles" title="Externalised ikigai - 60% layer" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sYxeTN_2SDVfCPogEKEUwu2HGvWMq57kfLXvdTIwpXZp2YCHFOT1eKb_gH1yO93xr8iYPkM2Soh18EX9_QlAZBMhBO2ga7mRfAV1-7huSqOwaY7plsY5-kp8yHmg22SBeLK5/s320/ikigai-externalised-60pc.png" width="320" height="226" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1132" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWuMoBt-HLOUZP_bp456bBPFCQkhkOoGc2viHzOT7ojNrBdn0bX2EU5MHEAIVMJPjo6a9tU-ON2QtI896C94qi6SFeE0-_JapjYcYofsBZH0zQyRihmqTRDJf7x5OQt2ZlyQd/s1600/ikigai-externalised-80pc.png" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="Ikigai Venn diagram showing characteristics of each set of four overlapping circles" title="Externalised ikigai - 80% layer" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWuMoBt-HLOUZP_bp456bBPFCQkhkOoGc2viHzOT7ojNrBdn0bX2EU5MHEAIVMJPjo6a9tU-ON2QtI896C94qi6SFeE0-_JapjYcYofsBZH0zQyRihmqTRDJf7x5OQt2ZlyQd/s320/ikigai-externalised-80pc.png" width="320" height="226" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1132" /></a>
<p>I think this correlates well with the results of internal "pulse" surveys. We are proud to work for our company because we make a difference ("what the world needs"), and we enjoy working with passionate people ("what you love") who are very often experts in their field ("what you are good at"). But sometimes the processes aren't as good as they should be, and even with good remuneration, that can lead to frustration. </p>
<p>You might well dismiss this whole model is being irrelevant. Perhaps your personal ikigai is your family, or a hobby, or a charity that you are proud to support. That's understandable. In which case, you probably recognise your work as a necessary enabler of your true ikigai. And, if so, this model can still help you to make the most of your working life, and help you to answer the question - why do I get up in the morning?</p>
<p>What do you think? Is this a useful perspective for starting a career conversation? And have you come across a model that does it better?</p>
<p><i>Credit: The wording in the conventional ikigai diagram is taken from a graphic by the Toronto Star, which appears to be the most widely-shared version of the ikigai-as-workplace-happiness model.</i></p>
<p><em>A version of this article was originally published on my company internal blog.</em></p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-44095815523074017212017-03-08T15:27:00.000+00:002017-03-28T20:15:06.442+01:00Why I support the expansion of grammar schools<p>I try to ensure that my blog is generally light-hearted, entertaining and apolitical. I strive to avoid causing offence. So it's disconcerting to find myself on the deeply unpopular "wrong" side of the socially-progressive consensus, arguing against organisations such as Reform and the Institute for Fiscal Studies. It feels very much like the first time as an adult that somebody told me, to my face, that they didn't like me.</p>
<p>Yet here I am, arguing for the expansion of grammar schools. A policy of a government that I didn't vote for, strongly advocated by a Prime Minister that I don't much care for.</p>
<p>And yes, I have been goaded into setting out my views because of this kind of popular argument:</p>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en-gb"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">If grammar schools are so good, how come nobody who attended one can differentiate between personal experience and statistical evidence?</p>— Wu Ming (@twlldun) <a href="https://twitter.com/twlldun/status/839023510865469441">7 March 2017</a></blockquote> <script async="" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
<p>I would say to @twlldun (in rather more than 140 characters):</p>
<ol>
<li>Absolutely, I acknowledge that my own singular experience is only an anecdote. I still have the right to talk about it.</li>
<li>Your comment is an unacceptable generalisation - just as flawed as the poor grasp of statistics that you ridicule.</li>
<li>You can't extrapolate statistics about a hypothetical future education system from the system that existed in the 1950s.</li>
<li>Who says that you're asking the right questions of the right people? You could pose a question to a population of grammar school alumni - say, "Was your experience of grammar school a good one?" - and still get meaningful statistical answers. (I don't know whether anybody has ever asked such a question, but it seems likely that that is the implicit question being answered in many such anecdotes.)</li>
<li>Even within a grammar school education, not everybody is going to end up being great at statistics.</li></ol>
<p>Here's my anecdote, then. <b>I wouldn't be in the position I am today were it not for a grammar education.</b> I wouldn't have been the first in my family to go to university, closely followed by my little sister. My wife and her brother would say the same. As would many of our friends. My parents did not go to university; but they both entered professions as a result of being the most academically gifted in their families and, consequently, attending grammar schools.</p>
<p>Did this contribute to a split along social lines? As it happens, us going to grammar school did not somehow magically destroy our friendships with those that didn't. We stayed in touch with those people we cared about - those with whom we had common interests. Of those that I regret not staying in touch with, a fair number went to <i>other</i> grammars, especially one of the two local girls' grammars.</p>
<p>That's not to say I think my grammar education was perfect. I think a single-sex education, while possibly conducive to academic concentration, had a strongly detrimental social effect on me and many of my peers. More fundamentally, some of my classmates have subsequently made a compelling case that they became complacent in education: that the school failed to enable them to reach their full potential; that it did not add as much value as it could have. There is some evidence for this: at the time of my attendance, my school was found to be the "best value for money" state school in the country. This means that it spent less for every high GCSE or A-Level grade than any other. You could take this to mean that the school's high achievement was <i>despite</i>, not <i>because of</i>, high educational standards.</p>
<p>Still, I think I would have rapidly foundered in a comp. Bookish, nerdy, resolutely uninterested in sport, and introverted: I think I would have been bullied, that I would have been easily bored in lessons, and that I would eventually have retreated into myself. I'm not sure about any of these hypotheticals, but I believe them. Around the ages of 11 or 12, I was twice attacked by older kids from local comps because of the uniform I wore. I quickly came to see that my school was, relatively speaking, a haven of bright pupils whose most significant common factor was that they all had a healthy respect for school and for learning. I agree that they weren't an especially diverse bunch, but then, I'm not sure that their backgrounds differed significantly from those friends I had at primary school.</p>
<p>I am aware of the main arguments against selective education. It doesn't increase social mobility as much as it should. Only a tiny elite get to attend. It leaves behind bright pupils whose potential has been overlooked. Overall attainment decreases. It places too much emphasis on the outcome of a single test, when we all develop at a different rate. Richer students are more likely to succeed because they can afford private tuition. I believe that all of these problems can be overcome with a well-designed grammar system. Indeed, the Government appears to be doing exactly that in its consultations.</p>
<p>Social mobility can be addressed either through quotas (though these are fraught with difficulties); or, as the Government proposes, by having the school actively involved in under-privileged feeder schools. The argument that an insufficient proportion of students are eligible to attend a grammar school can be addressed by providing more places, i.e. by expanding grammar schools. And there's no particular reason why there has to be only a single point of entry. My school accepted entrants at 11, 13, 16 and at other points in between.</p>
<p>Overall attainment in a selective educational area decreases only because the quality of other schools is so low. That is not inherent in a selective education system, although it might well have been in the past. Idealistically, we should aim to improve all schools - catering to all needs. There is no need for us to choose between grammar schools on the one hand, and raising standards at comprehensives on the other. There are even proposed mechanisms for ensuring that this happens within a finite budget, such as mandating that the grammar is part of a multi-school trust. And we can be smarter about how we measure success, too, recognising that a student's lower academic ability does not equate to failure.</p>
<p>The problem of a single entrance exam, and the possibility of richer students being coached to pass, can both be overcome by use of different entrance criteria. In fact, I believe that the problem has already been solved once before. At the time of my own 11-plus exam, teachers told my parents that the procedure was roughly this: the school marked coursework for students over a period of years, identifying the most able. The exam was then used to benchmark schools against one another. Finally, the highest-ranked pupils from each school were selected. My parents were told - twice, a few years apart - that both my sister and I could have missed the exam entirely and still be certain of a place at grammar school. Coaching would have made no difference either way. I am very surprised that this approach is not documented anywhere. I can't believe that the teachers lied to my parents, especially when the mechanism that they described makes more sense than the current one-shot test.</p>
<p>Why do I support the expansion of grammar schools? Because I believe that <b>it would be unconscionable for me to argue against a system from which I have personally benefited so substantially</b>. Just as I benefited from a free university education, and hence disagree with the principle of exorbitant tuition fees; and just as I have benefited from the NHS, and therefore support that organisation (despite its obvious flaws). Let me repeat: I understand that my grammar education was an opportunity and a privilege, and notwithstanding all arguments to the contrary, it would be unethical for me to want to deny the same privilege to others.</p>
<p>It is widely reported that the current younger generation is the first in decades to be worse off than their parents. The generation now approaching retirement have systematically pulled up the drawbridges behind them, cutting off younger people from the decades of social progress from which they prospered. I think we owe it to the younger generation to reverse this and open up opportunities for them; to give gifted children from less well-off backgrounds a genuine chance to succeed. Equality of opportunity does not mean that we have to place the most gifted students in the same classroom as the less able, and those who simply don't want to learn; but that we strive to design an education system that benefits all according to their unique needs.</p>
<p>The selective system is not without its flaws, but it is better to fix those flaws than to resign ourselves to a mediocre average.</p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-37978888107436667852017-02-20T12:00:00.000+00:002017-03-08T09:23:48.472+00:00366 giorni della lingua italiana<p>For the past year, I have been learning Italian, practising a few words every single day, using an app called <a href="http://www.duolingo.com/">Duolingo</a>. (In fact I started more than a full year ago, but the app allows for me to take short breaks from time to time.)</p>
<p>Apart from 1,500 words of vocabulary, here are a few things I've learned about the process and about myself over this period.</p>
<h2>It's much easier to learn a language when you're motivated - even if the rationale is spurious</h2>
<p>Why did I choose Italian? No greater reason than I love visiting Italy.</p>
<p>I don't think learning Italian is likely to make a difference to my career prospects. I recognise that there are many other languages that I could have picked that would be more useful in a globalised economy. Yet <a href="http://nes.je/itfacts">Italian is the fourth most-studied language in the world</a>.</p>
<p>Surely most students of Italian have chosen it with their hearts, rather than their heads. Like many of them, I have been seduced by the place. I have an ill thought-through fantasy that I will take early retirement to buy a little farmhouse in Umbria, where chickens roam freely among the vines and where I can press my own olives.</p>
<p>At this point, I was going add a little "top ten" list to explain why I love Italy so much, but I can't realistically limit myself to ten items.</p>
<p>But it's worked. I've stayed motivated. I've graduated from an audio course, to a phrase-a-day calendar, to daily lessons.</p>
<p>My wife, by contrast, did well at first but didn't stick with Italian. But she's now found a different language that she's interested to learn, and has her own motivations for doing so - and has notched up a very good run already.</p>
<h2>Gamification works
</h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY22qajUY2IDDS2862iHNic1N13RCNuzfmsySqra88VD4TsWDHFP2j_IH2da1FtKF3wQzD6qFs7kPW3Bt23UpYzz04MtIwciCmvp1ad_jCIrLw6nVLuQjcPlMWukGEpXGwEQDj/s1600/duolingo365.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY22qajUY2IDDS2862iHNic1N13RCNuzfmsySqra88VD4TsWDHFP2j_IH2da1FtKF3wQzD6qFs7kPW3Bt23UpYzz04MtIwciCmvp1ad_jCIrLw6nVLuQjcPlMWukGEpXGwEQDj/s320/duolingo365.png" width="320" height="200" /></a></div>
<p>The Duolingo app is actually kind of basic - a small selection of different types of exercise. Its success is down to two things: first, a thoughtfully graduated selection of vocabulary along with a successful algorithm for selecting words to be practised; and second, gamification.</p>
<p>Gamification means that the app treats learning like a kind of game, with rewards for completing particular tasks. The gamification elements of Duolingo include Experience Points, Levels, Badges, and a virtual currency. The virtual currency, called Lingots, is, of course, totally worthless in the real world, as are the virtual things that it buys.</p>
<p>For me, the most important gamification element is the "streak": a simple count of the number of consecutive days that I have reached my daily goal. That now stands at exactly one year. I am disproportionately proud of this fact and I would genuinely be crushed if it were to reset for some reason. For me, that's all the motivation I need to make sure that I do a small amount of practice every day.</p>
<p>And the instruction method itself does, indeed, work. I am certain that I am retaining more information through brief daily practice sessions than I would do if I tried to study for a full hour, once a week.</p>
<h2>Different media helps, but learning a language through audio course alone is very hard</h2>
<p>The Duolingo experience on desktop is quite different to that provided by the app. Using both together is ideal. The mixture of reading, writing and listening exercises is genuinely helpful. I now find that I can do many of the translation exercises solely by listening to the Italian, rather than reading it, which is a good confidence boost.</p>
<p>I was much less successful in my first attempt to learn Italian using an audio-only course. I could parrot particular phrases, but without being able to see the sentence written down, I had no hope of understanding the grammar or even picking apart individual words in the given examples. </p>
<h2>Italian is an easy language</h2>
<p>I studied French and Latin at school to GCSE level - admittedly a long time ago. Italian's vocabulary is <a href="http://nes.je/itfacts">very similar to French</a> and is, of course, ultimately derived from Latin. And, barring a few "false friends" and irregular constructions, Italian often frequently overlaps English. So it's actually a pretty straightforward language for me to learn. I am under no illusions that this is typical; a language such as Japanese would be at least an order of magnitude harder.</p>
<h2>I'm still not fluent (and probably never will be)</h2>
<p>Duolingo includes a score of fluency, but even Duolingo's biggest fans ridicule and ignore it. I am at a score of 42% but, with a vocabulary of less than 2,000 words, I do not believe this has any real-world meaning. In point of fact, I very seriously struggled to converse in Italian during a recent holiday.</p>
<p>This is likely to be a significant problem with learning any language without interaction with other speakers. Identifying and translating short sentences, even ones with idiomatic meanings, are far easier in isolation than in the context of an actual conversation.</p>
<h2>There's an Internet connection everywhere and finding five minutes each day is easy</h2>
<p>I have maintained my year-long "streak" despite some pretty significant life events over the past year, and despite being stuck in some unexpected places for both work and leisure. However, the successful streak means that I can say with certainty that I have had daily access to a WiFi connection, and that I have had my tablet to hand for at least five minutes every single day.</p>
<p>I may not be as wedded to an always-on Internet as some in the Millennials generation, but nor have I been without it for more than 24 hours.</p>
<h2>I'm unbelievably risk-averse (or the app doesn't understand my motivations)</h2>
<p>After a recent update to the app, I am now offered a daily wager: bet Lingots against maintenance of a week-long streak. On the face of it, this is a great deal - I'm already very highly motivated to maintain my streak, so this should just be a guaranteed little bonus. Yet I never take the bet.</p>
<p>We could speculate that I have an exceptionally low tolerance for risk. But actually, the truth is, I don't care at all about winning a few extra Lingots. My motivation lies elsewhere. I think it's great that Duolingo continues to experiment with different ideas, but not all its experiments are successful. I don't think that this wager adds anything to the learning experience. Similarly, there is now a tendency to interrupt lessons with a screen that is intended to be motivational ("Three in a row! Well done!") but actually this just gets in the way; I expect this feature will be quietly dropped in a future update.</p>
<h2>It's almost impossible to learn when tired</h2>
<p>It's obvious that our mental faculties decline when we are tired, but learning with Duolingo has provided me with solid evidence of just how useless I am at the end of a long day. When tired, I will typically elect to do a practice lesson rather than study new vocabulary. Generally, if I undertake a practice lesson before about 9pm, I can complete it with few or zero mistakes. But if I leave it just a little later - 10.30pm, say - then I might make errors on more than half of the exercises. Some exercises I will get wrong even after being shown the correct answer.</p>
<p>This trend is so stark that it has me wondering about other activities that I might attempt when tired. For example, is it safe to drive if my error rate has gone up to this extent? And beyond what point is it counter-productive to stay late at work?</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-3194792842129399592016-01-08T00:00:00.000+00:002016-02-25T16:57:44.072+00:00Boom! Whack! An inspirational team-building exercise using percussion (quietly)<p>I recently had the opportunity to run a team-building exercise within my normal group of colleagues. I had a blank canvas. Previous exercises had ranged from the deadly serious (a brainstorm of the diversity issues preventing us from being a fully-inclusive workplace) to the silly (a quiz of observation, in which we were sent out of the room and subsequently had to identify which physical attributes / articles of clothing our colleagues had changed during our absence).</p>
<p>I immediately wanted to do something musical, if possible; something that would be enjoyable, but also force us to work as a team. My first idea was to acquire a set of those Christmas crackers containing tuned whistles. With one person per whistle, this is the ultimate in building a co-ordinated team: in fact, the players are more dependent on one another than they would be in a real band. Everyone must play exactly on cue, otherwise the melody simply doesn't work. </p>
<p>I also researched companies that would come into the office and run singing or percussion workshops. Apart from the cost, I foresaw one major issue with this - and also with my cracker whistle idea - which is that we'd rather quickly become deeply unpopular if we held a noisy bongo workshop in a meeting room next door to a customer sales pitch.</p>
<h2>Tactfully tuneful</h2>
<p>So now I was on the hunt for something musical, but quiet, and also cheap. With just a few days to go, I discovered a website describing Boomwhackers. Boomwhackers are coloured plastic tubes of varying lengths. When hit against a hand, thigh, or immovable object, they produce a dull thud that happens to be a pitched note. A complete set of eight Boomwhackers contains a diatonic octave. It is also possible to buy sets that add the semitones to form a full chromatic octave, or to extend the range to a second or third octave. A simple plastic cap over one end of the tube alters the pitch down by an octave, providing even more options. (For reasons that a physicist can explain better than me, the resonance of a tube with a closed end produces a standing wave of half the wavelength of the standing wave in the same-length tube with an open end. This supposedly explains why a clarinet plays at a lower pitch than a flute, despite being of similar lengths.)</p>
<p>Because they are simple, cheap, brightly-coloured and indestructible, Boomwhackers are used mainly in early-years musical education. A search on YouTube found that they are used by adults primarily as a comedy esoteric musical instrument, in much the same way that a kazoo might be. Audiences apparently find them <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwK9IvF7N5s">delightfully funny</a>; in order to play any <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwhAZCIxdjs">sufficiently advanced</a> music, the players must be constantly and frenetically picking up and putting down different tubes.</p>
<p>Thanks to Amazon Prime's next-day delivery, I acquired two sets of Boomwhackers. With the help of an <a href="https://boomwhack.wordpress.com/">enthusiastic Boomwhacker blog</a>, I created a set of Boomwhacker "sheet music" of gradually-increasing difficulty. I reasoned that some of the workshop participants would not be able to read traditional music notation, so I used a simple block representation.</p>
<h2>The scratch orchestra</h2>
<p>I announced that we would be forming a scratch orchestra of sorts, with a stated aim of learning and playing a piece of music, with harmonies, within the half-hour slot I had allowed. There was a moment of mirth when I opened my holdall to reveal the Boomwhackers for the first time, but also an immediate sense of some excitement when I demonstrated how they worked. Everyone grabbed one or two each, and we ran through the first couple of exercises - simple scales - with ease. It was working well.</p>
<p>The remaining exercises introduced different rhythms and a modest amount of harmony, to get the participants used to reading more than one line of "sheet music" at a time. Finally, we came to the promised outcome: the traditional song, <em>Frère Jacques</em>, to be played as a round. The first run-through was scrappy, but after just a couple of attempts, we managed a more than passable performance. There was even a little cheer at the end, and everyone was grinning.</p>
<h2>Conclusion</h2>
<p>Assuming that you could allow half an hour, I'd be confident running this workshop as the ice-breaker at the start of a conference, say. Sure, there will probably be some people who aren't that musical; but I think they'll have fun anyway. There might be a handful of people who see such an exercise as a waste of time, but my participants seemed to buy into the idea that <strong>we were doing something as a team that we could not possibly have achieved without the full co-operation of everyone present</strong>.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-16859488796173165842015-09-02T11:00:00.000+01:002017-09-05T10:13:35.587+01:00A Business Operations Manager is ...<p><I>My role in the company is called Operations Manager, or more formally, Business Operations Manager. It's not a role that translates very well to other organisations, encompassing aspects of General Management and Resource Management. This is an internal blog post in which I attempted to characterise the role. Especially useful if you've been baffled by my "poetry" on the same subject.</I></p>
<h2>... the conductor of a symphony orchestra</h2>
<p>Barbara Hannigan's description of her own job as "a humbling realisation that the conductor is part servant, part leader and, most of the time, just trying to stay out the way" sounds suspiciously like Operations Management. It's the engineers and the consultants and even the salespeople that have the individual skills to make the business work harmoniously. Without the Operations team, though, they might as well all be playing their own tunes.</p>
<p>(Source: <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/mar/11/barbara-hannigan-conducting-britten-sinfonia">http://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/mar/11/barbara-hannigan-conducting-britten-sinfonia</a>)</p>
<h2>... but not a fighter pilot</h2>
<p>Commonly, multi-tasking is considered to be a valuable and transferable business skill. It really isn't - unless, that is, you're the pilot of a fast jet. Because, really, very few professions actually require a single person to be performing multiple skilled roles <em>at the same time</em>.</p>
<p>What's really valuable is the ability to rapidly assess problems and tasks, and deal with them in a sensible order. Often I find I start an important email first thing in the morning and it's still half-drafted at home time, because less important but more urgent things have occurred in the meantime. Finishing the email without repeating points I've already made, and making the whole message flow, is a bit of an art in itself. When somebody calls and says that they're following up on the IM conversation from earlier - it's not always trivial to slip back into that conversation without further context. In each case, I'm not multi-tasking, but context-shifting: picking things up; putting them back down; responding to calls and instant messages and emails in something like a managed order rather than complete chaos. And that leads nicely on to ...</p>
<h2>... a first responder</h2>
<p>I'm not a Helpdesk. I don't get assigned tickets in a predetermined order. I get contacted by people who are more or less unhappy about something and who need something done to resolve the problem. Some of those problems are inherently deeply personal. Some affect entire teams. Some will have a serious impact on the performance of the whole business.</p>
<p>There are established <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triage_tag">tools and techniques</a> for medical triage. Sometimes, it would be nice if the same techniques could be applied to business problems. Tie a green tag to the Finance Manager who needs to know if some hours can be moved. A yellow tag for the member of staff who's told his line manager he's not happy in role. Ah, but it's financial month end: now the Finance Manager's problem has deteriorated and warrants a red tag. And that unhappy member of staff has found a new job and quit. Black tag: pain relief only now until the inevitable end.</p>
<p>But caution all the while on communicating your intentions. No patient wants to wake up and discover a black tag tied to themselves.</p>
<h2>... but not a surgeon</h2>
<p>A Delivery Manager might well get the chance to spend an hour - or a whole day - picking apart the issues facing a single project team. The Operations Manager will probably never have that chance. The Operations Manager will always need the broad view of the problems. That, sadly, will always come at the expense of the deep view.</p>
<p>We're working on "professionalising" our Operations team, but the reality is that Ops touches many different functions within the company, all of which are demanding and dynamic. It's exceptionally rare that we'll get the chance to sit in a quiet place and just work on one single problem at a time.</p>
<h2>... a gardener</h2>
<p>The adage says that a weed is simply a plant growing in the wrong place. Surely, then, this makes the Operations Manager a gardener: moving plants to their best location; allowing them access to the light; letting them flourish. </p>
<p>Furthermore, it's been said that gardening is never really about putting plants in the ground; nature can do that perfectly well without any help. It's much more about clearing space, removing obstacles, and letting growth happen naturally.</p>
<h2>... and a master LEGO builder</h2>
<p>The central job of an Operations Manager or a Resourcing Manager is to take the available resources and make them fit the work available. However, there's not a single right answer to any resourcing problem. It's a bit like taking the pieces from one Lego set and the instructions from a different set. At the same time, the Operations Manager needs to constantly guess which Lego sets will need to be built next, and next year.</p>
<p>In the meantime, there will be a steady supply of new Lego pieces arriving that are almost certainly the wrong shape, but which perfectly fit the instructions from six months ago.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-33742793603656401792015-02-20T07:54:00.001+00:002016-02-25T17:03:18.407+00:00An op to the head of the Head of Ops<div dir="ltr">
A misleading excuse for a punning headline. This will be extraction of two lower wisdom teeth under general anaesthetic. Completely routine day surgery. Home in time for lunch. Spoiler alert: I survived.
<p>0745. A bright, beautiful winter's morning. I'm not nervous, yet. The outpatients building looks dilapidated but the staff are welcoming and perky. Wifey is directed to a waiting area, while I sit alone in Room 8. It's bare and tired, but clean. There is trolley with a surgical gown and blanket folded neatly on it; a cabinet; a couple of plastic chairs; a sink; a shelf with magazines from 2010; and a floral curtain concealing the back half of the room, stamped with the words "Do not enter - privacy and decency". I wonder if there's someone sleeping on the other side.
<p>I contemplate reading my book. I've brought with me a bag containing just that and a few coins. The latter is in case I find myself groggily wandering around the car park after my op. Wifey assumes that I'll have had the clarity to remember to pick up my bag before absconding.
<p>0815. The staff nurse comes in to do paperwork, talk about drug options ("I'm rubbish at swallowing pills," I tell her, apologetically, trying not to sound like a two-year-old) and take my blood pressure and weight. She attaches an identification wristband. Then she wants to see my ankles. "It's so I know what size surgical stockings you need. You look ... medium."
<p>Wifey is allowed to join me now. There's not much to do or say, but I'm glad she's here. A nurse wanders up and down the hall, singing. She's very good. We join in a bit. We're not very good.
<p>The consultant comes in. More paperwork. "Did we talk about the risks?" Yes, a small risk that you'll accidentally paralyse my face. "It's not a small risk. Your alveolar nerve runs right next to the roots. What would you like to do?"
<p>What I would like is to have more than five seconds in which to digest this information and make a decision based on quantifiable risks. One in a thousand chance of paralysis? One in ten? Evens?
<p>I tell the consultant that I'll accept her best recommendation. She thinks for a moment and decides to hedge her bets: extract one tooth and perform coronectomy on the other. She gets out a permanent marker and draws a large figue 8, with a line over it, on one side of my face; and 8C, with a line over it, on the other side.
<p>This is so you don't cut off my leg by mistake? I ask.
<p>"Or something else," she says, gravely.
<p>Wifey and I are left alone. I find an open packet of sweets in the bedside cabinet and contrive to spill them all over the floor. Wifey ventures past the "Do not enter" curtain and discovers a birthing pool - a relic of this building's past as the maternity ward.
<p>The staff nurse returns with a soluble paracetemol. "How bad are you at swallowing pills, really? I could get you an antibiotic solution and soluble painkillers, but I'd have to go all the way over to the pharmacy ..."
<p>Do you know those tiny anti-malarials? I ask. I can't swallow them. Sorry.
<p>She does a fairly good job at pretending that she's not annoyed.
<p>A man in a quilted jacket wanders in and announces that he's the anaesthetist. He looks at the paperwork and asks a couple of questions about allergies and when I last ate.<br />
<p>We are left alone again.
<p>But then it's all go: a nurse tells me to get into the surgical gown and stockings. She returns ninety seconds later to check that I've done so - to find Wifey laughing hysterically and taking photos while I try, with low levels of success, to don the stockings.
<p>Then I'm on the trolley, paperwork in my lap, and being wheeled out of the room by a porter and anaesthetic nurse. I'm wheeled into an unfamiliar corridor and we joke that I'm going to be dumped in the car park. Unfortunately, I've forgotten my bag full of change.
<p>It's disconcerting being fully in control of my faculties, yet being pushed around the place. However, I remember that, in just a few minutes, I will be completely helpless and in the hands of a group of experts. A trolley ride now is nothing.
<p>I'm taken into the tiny anteroom of the theatre and the anaesthetist from earlier appears. He and the nurse check my signature on the paperwork and the ID band on my wrist. There's a clock above the inner door: it's just about 0955.
<p>A cannula is inserted into the back of my left hand. "Are you allergic to penicillin?" the anaesthetist asks. I've never had it, I tell him. He looks genuinely taken-aback. "Not even as a child? Never had tonsilitis?" A long pause as he weighs the risk. "Welcome to being a human," he mutters, which seems unnecessarily dismissive of my previous years on this planet.
<p>My trolley is moved into the fully-reclined position. On the ceiling, there's a large poster of a tropical beach. A mask appears from behind me. "Are you OK with masks?" asks the nurse, clamping it to my face. "It's just oxygen. There might be a slight smell of gas." What gas? Natural gas? Something sulphurous? Chlorine?
<p>"Have you been anywhere nice on holiday recently?" she asks, and I recognise this as the precursor to being knocked out. I gesture towards the poster on the ceiling. Caribbean for Christmas, I mumble through the mask. "What islands?" Barbados, St Lucia ... "Smell of gas now - breathe deeply," interjects the anaethetist. One deep breath. "I hear St Lucia is nice," says the nurse. "Breathe deeply," commands the anaethetist. A second deep breath. It's beautiful, I agree. A third breath.
<p>Suddenly, I'm at work. Everyone is happy and relaxed. This might be a dream.
<p>Then I'm in a yellow room, and very cold. Someone asks if I'd like another blanket. Not sure whether I can speak, I nod. One is brought.
<p>Now I'm awake, definitely, and in the yellow room for real. The clock on the wall opposite - there seems always to be a conveniently-placed clock - reads 1120. There's a desk in the corner of the room and a nurse working behind it.
<p>I surreptitiously check that I haven't wet myself during the surgery. All good.
<p>I close my eyes a few times. When I open them again, and keep them open, two people come to wheel me back to my own room. I'm told to rest for a while.
<p>I sleep. At one point, I think I hear a nurse phoning Wifey to let her know I'm out.
<p>After forty-five minutes, a nurse comes in to check on me. I'm awake and more alert this time. She asks me to move from the trolley to the chair. She waits a few minutes to make sure I'm OK. "If you're still feeling OK in ten minutes, you can get dressed," she says. In ten minutes, I am and I do.
<p>1300. Wifey returns to fetch me and the staff nurse brings my soluble medicines and tells me to go home. It feels a bit of an anticlimax. I thank her, and the reception staff, and go home to spend a week sleeping in front of daytime TV.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7Bj-5ZX-c_ZZ-UCTlbDWM9aT88fevNs-2BLMJihqZ__G7C4cwIffW0Wpxk2El284aoPkHbqhr_35wvApRO4NzkCYUTEL-TrjH7wbR2HVoukKa-Q6of_sjch32ZKrhH-aWvEw/s1600/2015-02-09%25252008.48.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7Bj-5ZX-c_ZZ-UCTlbDWM9aT88fevNs-2BLMJihqZ__G7C4cwIffW0Wpxk2El284aoPkHbqhr_35wvApRO4NzkCYUTEL-TrjH7wbR2HVoukKa-Q6of_sjch32ZKrhH-aWvEw/s640/2015-02-09%25252008.48.30.jpg" /> </a> </div>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-1598437833300027492014-12-30T12:20:00.001+00:002015-01-05T20:15:25.590+00:00Captain's storytime<div dir="ltr">
Post-breakfast, we're grateful to
be in the air-conditioned comfort of the small, polished-mahogany lounge. On the deck, some crew members are performing routine
maintenance in temperatures of thirty degrees or more.<br>
<br>
There are far more chairs than necessary for the dozen or so passengers who have gathered to hear the billed "Captain's storytime". Nobody seems quite sure what to expect, even the passengers who have experienced this cruise before. <br>
<br>
Captain Sergey enters. His smile seems shy at first, but it quickly becomes clear that he's quite a showman at heart. In fact, with his lean physique, moustache and pristine white uniform, he resembles an older, but still charismatic, Freddie Mercury. Instinctively, his audience move closer to one another, in order to be closer to the speaker. <br>
<br>
It does not start promisingly. "What would you like me to talk about?" he asks, before revealing that he used to be an acupuncturist before becoming a seaman. Several audience-members exchange glances. While he's explaining his theory of holistic medicine, a couple of people slip out, not as inconspicuously as they hoped.<br>
<br>
But suddenly he's talking about the worst storm of his sailing career: as second officer aboard a cadet training ship, in swells of 25m. We were scared, he says, until we realised that we were going to die. Then we weren't afraid any more. The kids realised they were going to die, and they were also no longer afraid.<br>
<br>
Every time the bow went under the waves, we didn't think it was going to pop back out. We had two cadets on the ship's wheel, but we had to replace them every few minutes, because it was so exhausting and painful. The wind blew salt into our faces so hard that we were bleeding. It took three months for my skin to grow back.<br>
<br>
Someone asks whether he's ever taken this ship, and its passengers, through such a storm. He laughs.<br>
<br>
No, nothing like that. Not this ship, not with passengers.<br>
<br>
The worst thing we had to deal with on <i>this</i> ship was the pirates.<br>
<br>
Our route used to take us through the Indian Ocean, past the notorious Somali coast. Pirates were a real threat. We took precautions: razor wire and 10,000 volt electric fences welded around the hull of this ship, this beautiful ship. Screens so that attackers couldn't see where the passengers were on deck. All the watertight doors closed, all the time. Safety muster areas within the bowels of the ship.<br>
<br>
Back in the present, the carpenters start noisily sanding the deck outside. The captain excuses himself, disappears, shouts. The noise stops. The carpenters scurry sheepishly past the window of the lounge.<br>
<br>
The captain bounds back in and continues.<br>
<br>
The owner offered to fly any passengers who wanted to disembark; we
would pick them up again in Goa in a couple of weeks. Eventually, he
insisted upon it - it was just too dangerous. We took a look at our radar system. We had to calculate its effective range at picking up the small, fast boats used by the Somali pirates. We worked out how long it would take to identify a threat and sound the alarm before the pirates were within firing range. We thought we'd have about thirty seconds to get every passenger below decks. It wasn't really feasible with a full ship. <br>
<br>
But we did make the passage once, with passengers. There was a Spanish MP on board. We were protected by the international naval coalition who patrol the corridor. A Spanish warship took special interest in us, because of their MP. We had a small escort boat of British commandos as well.<br>
<br>
And they gave me a machine gun. Just one, and a thousand rounds of ammunition.<br>
<br>
The British commandos followed behind us, the Spanish warship some distance behind them. The crossing was going OK until we saw an unexpected blip on the radar. A small, fast boat, just like the ones the Somali pirates use. It was heading right for us. We radioed to our support vessels. The Spanish warship started accelerating to catch up.<br>
<br>
The unknown boat didn't respond on any of the normal radio frequencies. It got closer and closer. It fell behind us, in a direct line between us and the British commandos. This is exactly what we feared might happen. A wrong decision now could be very serious indeed.<br>
<br>
A warning shot from the commandos would be the most appropriate signal to pirates that we were not to be trifled with. But if they started firing back, we couldn't defend ourselves; the unknown boat was on a direct line between us and the commando boat.<br>
<br>
At the last moment, a call on the radio.<br>
<br>
They weren't pirates; they were Yemeni coastguards.<br>
<br>
Yemen didn't participate in the international naval coalition, but they did like to protect their own waters, and they liked doing it their own way. They had seen the British commandos' boat and assumed it belonged to pirates, just as we had assumed that the Yemeni boat must be pirates. If somebody had opened fire, it would have been very ugly indeed.<br>
<br>
The captain glances at his watch. He's been talking for nearly 45 minutes and the audience are on the edge of their seats. He apologises, but the port pilot is due on board in exactly twelve minutes and he must return to the bridge now.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
</div>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-52486791192533280902014-02-07T15:16:00.000+00:002017-10-03T15:18:16.531+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #7<h2>19</h2>
<p>First: plan for success.<br>
Second: for failure. Third: for<br>
complete disaster.
</p>
<h2>20</h2>
<p>Moon wanes then waxes,<br>
inconstant yet returning.<br>
Forecasts rarely wax.
</p>
<h2>21</h2>
<p>You had success, and<br>
were happy. I remembered<br>
targets, and was sad.
</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-77557716198417559532014-01-30T08:00:00.000+00:002017-09-05T10:18:30.943+01:00Gamification<p><I>Originally published on my company internal blog.</I></p>
<p>Gamification is all the rage in industry. It means using game-like elements - such as small rewards and friendly competition between players - to incentivise people to do otherwise mundane work.</p>
<p>Here are eight old-school games that we could adapt for use in our company.</p>
<h2>Operations!</h2>
<p>Use the tweezers to extract resources from other departments. The catch is that there are 30% fewer resources than players. If two players try to extract the same resource, the Head of Ops's face lights up.</p>
<h2>Game Of Life</h2>
<p>Each player takes a car and chooses whether to go the "business" or "technical" consulting route. Spin the wheel to choose a random project that may or may not be in your consulting route. Spend the rest of the game driving your car around the car park, fruitlessly looking for an empty space.</p>
<h2 class="ms-rteElement-H2">Monopoly</h2>
<p>Each square represents a project. When you land on a project square belonging to an opponent, you must give up some of your resources to that project, even if that leaves you without enough resources. Within five minutes of starting the game, it feels like it's lasting forever, and everyone is grumpy and bored.</p>
<h2>Happy Families</h2>
<p>Players take it in turns to request resources from particular job families - Fran the Firmware Engineer; Will the Web Designer; Beth the Business Consultant. The opposing player does his best to provide staff that match none of the required characteristics.</p>
<h2>Pictionary</h2>
<p>One player acts as the Technical Architect. He draws a vague picture of a system. With no other information, the other players must try to implement the system within unreasonable budget and time constraints.</p>
<h2>Jenga</h2>
<p>Build a tower made out of KitKats. Players take turns to remove one KitKat. When all the KitKats are gone, the game is over and you can't play it again.</p>
<h2>Settlers Of Catan</h2>
<p>Players hold resources that their opponents need. They trade them to complete their work, even though the trades make no objective sense; for example, three web designers are swapped for two business consultants, to build one real-time embedded system. Everyone feels like they've lost.</p>
<h2>Cluedo</h2>
<p>Dr. Black sells the company to the UK's largest aerospace firm. Nobody is murdered. The end.</p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-38564779651988664332014-01-10T11:00:00.000+00:002017-10-03T15:16:14.804+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #6<h2>16</h2>
<p>Accountants circle<br />
overhead: slo-mo raptors<br />
who swoop once per month.
</p>
<h2>17</h2>
<p>Numbers may be raked<br />
like sand into peaks, whose grains<br />
tumble back to ground.
</p>
<h2>18</h2>
<p>Ninjas work at night,<br />
absorbed by secrets. Wise folk<br />
go home for dinner.
</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-54811929201509309902013-12-06T10:00:00.000+00:002017-10-03T15:16:08.662+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #5<h2>13</h2>
<p>Spring follows winter.<br />
Targets follow performance,<br />
which follows targets.
</p>
<h2>14</h2>
<p>Timesheet overheads,<br />
like tigers prowling: unseen,<br />
until it's too late.
</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJDw-csyYO8gXL2_L-ImjL7YSEUQPem23af8XpDN7p6Vl9oObXxKYVZ5FpUqRihUgeyU3nlGu9wkU2HLe-9NW4o1YZ2GKgG8jM7FjcE5tUUKQJPedLk65YCkzDaZ__2A3kBaU/s1600/DSC08530.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJDw-csyYO8gXL2_L-ImjL7YSEUQPem23af8XpDN7p6Vl9oObXxKYVZ5FpUqRihUgeyU3nlGu9wkU2HLe-9NW4o1YZ2GKgG8jM7FjcE5tUUKQJPedLk65YCkzDaZ__2A3kBaU/s320/DSC08530.JPG" /></a>
<h2>15</h2>
<p>Far forest zephyrs -<br />
barely heard whispers - sighing:<br />
"Why's your forecast late?"
</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-59232556937738570712013-10-25T10:00:00.000+01:002017-10-03T15:15:58.835+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #4<h2>10</h2>
<p>Do not lose your way<br />
in the forest of finance.<br />
Swap cake for guidance.
</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7R8AzxiLSajj-GzLvXM5O7y1L5UTtJ1TGSKfbmd8ImWKsazBs22KYGki7wLl7zzWOevDmo8VljNNRWpzWW60XwX_v_jewHxpkKzXvAvA9IUN7UbR6XTP4pITp-hrLsj3JmjM/s1600/DSC08510.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7R8AzxiLSajj-GzLvXM5O7y1L5UTtJ1TGSKfbmd8ImWKsazBs22KYGki7wLl7zzWOevDmo8VljNNRWpzWW60XwX_v_jewHxpkKzXvAvA9IUN7UbR6XTP4pITp-hrLsj3JmjM/s320/DSC08510.JPG" /></a>
<h2>11</h2>
<p>Dragon's piercing gaze<br />
falls on RAG status reports,<br />
probing for weakness.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfJxDSTQa3iohMXdEK3x8mnN9e3NHSV0uvdZZ5g41uRwqgmvgboUS7ZzZBhyphenhyphen31KOePcgZPeW_kSlgFFp-5rARoqFg7pEK5hKUIzKr-KJ0-ygNBTpganxUpqPDAXzpEEHmNIo2/s1600/bamboo-villa-carlotta.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfJxDSTQa3iohMXdEK3x8mnN9e3NHSV0uvdZZ5g41uRwqgmvgboUS7ZzZBhyphenhyphen31KOePcgZPeW_kSlgFFp-5rARoqFg7pEK5hKUIzKr-KJ0-ygNBTpganxUpqPDAXzpEEHmNIo2/s320/bamboo-villa-carlotta.jpg" /></a>
<h2>12</h2>
<p>Departments: towers<br />
of bamboo. Between, torrents<br />
of resources flow.
</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-27767352783310144922013-10-10T15:00:00.000+01:002017-10-03T15:15:43.688+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #3<h2>7</h2>
<p>Target: our desire.<br />
Forecast: your expectation.<br />
Plan: mutual journey.
</p>
<h2>8</h2>
<p>Projects, when gardened,<br />
grow, live, breathe. Left untended,<br />
they wilt, choked by weeds.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-ir4MGT3WkVLoEmBVq_j8dkVK5N0eROL_1TEbX2dhqSflQQz1KHboMsUjtR7YO4PXZxWUldb5xiwTmU_16FQlYAK5GXOASUJBVhX0Z_4v0fwr-MMR3lATvzY568u32iR7tvY/s1600/DSC08516.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-ir4MGT3WkVLoEmBVq_j8dkVK5N0eROL_1TEbX2dhqSflQQz1KHboMsUjtR7YO4PXZxWUldb5xiwTmU_16FQlYAK5GXOASUJBVhX0Z_4v0fwr-MMR3lATvzY568u32iR7tvY/s320/DSC08516.JPG" /></a>
<h2>9</h2>
<p>Targets are as dreams<br />
on waking: swiftly fading,<br />
barely remembered.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-45636490534281184672013-10-01T15:03:00.000+01:002017-10-03T15:15:28.618+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #2<h2>4</h2>
<p>Among the columns<br />
imagined figures flicker,<br />
grow, become real.
</p>
<h2>5</h2>
<p>Your project sets sail<br />
on dark and stormy oceans.<br />
I am your lighthouse.</p>
<h2>6</h2>
<p>In the beginning,<br />
no process, no procedures;<br />
great minds, working hard.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yt30S6RhjKoF9hr4W4gKEWPj1C7pnKyPwK0m7dV5rx8-QIvb8D_S7-ydJUXHvUrTIisCO-WYbu6kWKRGIvAU4E5fQ2mcdunJodb0aHf96YkupDxXca2JTneog9YeNEMWiQSA/s1600/DSC08049.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yt30S6RhjKoF9hr4W4gKEWPj1C7pnKyPwK0m7dV5rx8-QIvb8D_S7-ydJUXHvUrTIisCO-WYbu6kWKRGIvAU4E5fQ2mcdunJodb0aHf96YkupDxXca2JTneog9YeNEMWiQSA/s320/DSC08049.JPG" /></a>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-24454834491268079542013-09-13T14:56:00.000+01:002017-10-03T15:15:01.821+01:00Zen and the art of Business Operations Management #1<h2>1</h2>
<p>Targets. Plans. Forecasts.<br />
Is your forecast real or dream?<br />
Do your dreams come true?</p>
<h2>2</h2>
<p>Consideration<br />
should always be given to<br />
utilisation.</p>
<h2>3</h2>
<p>Talent - ideas -<br />
technology - time - testing -<br />
revenue - profit.</p>
David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-48307773555771496312013-09-09T16:20:00.000+01:002017-09-05T10:21:46.710+01:00Four functions I'd like to see in the next version of Excel<p><I>Originally published on my company internal blog.</I></p>
<p>Excel provides a bewildering array of built-in functions for all manner of scientific and statistical analysis. It even lets users write their own functions. But no matter how flexible a tool is, users will inevitably want immediate, specific functionality that meets their needs now. Here are some Excel functions I'd love to see.</p>
<h2>ACTUALPERCENTAGE()</h2>
<p>Copy-and-paste a percentage from a text source, and the value is stored is a number such as 50. But Excel stores actual percentages as a fraction (0.5) and merely dislays them as a number with a % sign. This means that 50, when imported from a text source, displays as 5000%. That's definitely wrong.</p>
<p>This useful function looks at the context of your number, including the number of decimal places that you've set, and decides whether it should be divided by a hundred or not.</p>
<h2>CELLFORMAT()</h2>
<p>Conditional formatting lets you set the format of the cell based on the cell's contents. For example, cells containing negative numbers can be highlighted in red.</p>
<p>But what if you want to change the contents of the cell based on its formatting? For example, what if all red cells should have their values weighted? That's where CELLFORMAT() comes in. It returns a description of the format of the cell against which you can do useful comparisons and adjust your business logic accordingly.</p>
<p><strong>=IF(CELLFORMAT()="Red with yellow stripes", "Safe to bathe", "Do not go in the water")</strong></p>
<p>Remember: It's considered best-practice to design your spreadsheets so that business logic depends upon the formatting of the cell.</p>
<h2>ABACUS()</h2>
<p>Excel already includes a ROMAN() function which converts numbers into Roman figures. But what if your Excel user isn't an ancient Roman, but instead is a Mesopotamian or Egyptian from 2,500BC? That's where ABACUS() comes in: it converts numerals to a visual representation of beads. An optional second argument returns the result in the Sumerian base-60 system.</p>
<h2>CPP()</h2>
<p>Everyone knows that VBA is a toy language used only by failed software engineers who've turned into ops managers through sheer bad luck. What Excel really needs is a way of executing a proper language, within the constraints of a normal formula (ie 32,767 characters long). CPP() executes C++ code within the context of the spreadsheet. Spreadsheet objects are available in the same way that they are to VBA.</p>
<p><strong>=CPP("#include <iostream> ; #include <worksheet> ; int main() { cout << \"Hello, \" << Worksheet.Cells(\"A1\").Value(); return 0; };")</strong></p>
<p>See? Simple, clear, powerful.</p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15512328.post-60388541150038588822013-07-15T12:51:00.001+01:002017-09-05T15:34:53.983+01:00Six baffling Excel functions<p><i>Originally published on my company internal blog.</i></p>
<h2>
BAHTTEXT</h2>
<p><strong>What it does:</strong> The baht is the currency of Thailand. BAHTTEXT(123) returns the words "One hundred and twenty-three baht", but in Thai.</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling:</strong> Because this is the only function in Excel that does anything like this, and it's only available for the baht. There's no equivalent for converting a number to text in any other currency or language.</p>
<h2>
CODE</h2>
<p><strong>What it does:</strong> CODE("HELLO") returns the code for the letter "H" in the computer's current character set</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling:</strong> For a start, it's somewhat difficult to see why anyone might ever want to use Excel to get the ASCII / ANSI / whatever code for the first letter of a string. And then there's the contortions you'd have to go through if you wanted, say, the ASCII code for the <em>second </em>letter instead.</p>
<h2>
DAYS360</h2>
<p><strong>What it does:</strong> Returns the interval between two dates, in days, whilst assuming that all years have 360 days in them.</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling:</strong> I can just about see why a company might have equal-length accounting periods - 12 months times 30 days - but I'm seriously struggling to see why you'd want to do date arithmetic on this basis. An optional second argument gives you a modicum of control over which five or six days of the year get ignored but still leaves open the awful question: what if my birthday no longer exists? Do I still get cake? Also, there are now automatically five (or six) fewer shopping days left until Christmas... I think. And there now exists both a 29th and a 30th of February every year.</p>
<h2>
ROMAN</h2>
<p><strong>What it does: </strong>Converts from numbers to a text string in Roman numerals. For example, ROMAN(5) returns "V" and ROMAN(21) returns "XXI".</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling: </strong>Three reasons. First, unless you need to put a copyright date at the end of a TV programme, why would you ever want Excel to work in Roman numerals? Second, there's a bewildering array of optional arguments that return strings in different forms, most of which, I suspect, wouldn't mean much to a real Roman. Third, there's no function for converting a Roman numeral string back into conventional Arabic digits - so having converted a number to Roman, it can't be processed any further.</p>
<h2>
SUBTOTAL</h2>
<p><strong>What it does:</strong> Sums across a range of cells but excludes any cells that already contain a SUBTOTAL function. This means that you can use a SUBTOTAL function on a group of lines, and a SUBTOTAL again against a group of groups, without counting the same figures twice.</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling:</strong> Because it doesn't actually sum, and hence doesn't actually provide a subtotal, unless you give it a very specific first argument: the number 9. Not only do you have to know that the first argument is one of 22 pre-defined function reference numbers, but you also have to remember that the most obvious default number is not 1, but 9.</p>
<h2>
DAVERAGE</h2>
<p><strong>What it does:</strong> There's a range of database functions whose names start with a "D". This one returns the average from a database or list of values.</p>
<p><strong>Why it's baffling: </strong>OK, actually, it's quite straightforward and not baffling at all. But I like to think of this function as being called DAVE_RAGE which nicely defines my normal experience when using Excel.</p>David Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05076700641480265003noreply@blogger.com0