The first month of a new decade seems to have flown by double quick!
I guess a large part of that sensation is down to having so much going on in all parts of my life right now.
On the “life in general” front, the weather has featured strongly. My last post talked about high winds - very unusual around here, and even more unusual for those conditions to persist for a couple of weeks rather than a couple of hours. They brought a couple of lengthy power outages. Then that week we had snow. Lots of shoveling, and my body knew by the end of the week that it had had a major workout. Then rain, and more wind. And more rain. Yes, I know this is actually a rainforest, but the downpours last week were exceptional. Floods and mudslides blocking highways and disrupting telecommunications.
Work-wise, we’ve been leading up to a big IT upgrade which brought a series of issues that had to be sorted out. That, thankfully, is now out of the way and has had all last week to stabilize, but the upgrade itself took over the whole of the previous weekend.
Things have been equally unusual this month in the writing world. I’m now in the thick of editing The Long Dark, and at times actually enjoying it! This is a novelty. I enjoy editing and revising about as much as dental work, but this time feels different. In part, I think it’s because I started the month writing a number of new scenes to flesh out a couple of themes more fully. This made it feel a lot more like writing than editing. But that has given me a boost to keep up the momentum through the longer slog of reviewing existing chapters.
So, yeah, busy. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely in a way that calls for a slower and more relaxed February. Here’s hoping.
Showing posts with label The day job. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The day job. Show all posts
Sunday, February 2, 2020
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Movember
In case you’ve never heard of Movember, it’s a charity that raises funds and awareness for men’s health. They hold a fundraising drive every November, which usually involves growing moustaches.
This year, my office decided to hold a “reverse Movember”. A group of us who already had facial hair signed up, and all month people in the office placed money on the individual(s) they most wanted to see shave it all off.
I’ve taken part in Movember a couple of times before, where I started the month clean-shaven. Ali hates it! She was happy for me to enter this time - as long as I didn’t “win”.
Throughout the month, there were three or four front runners miles ahead of the rest of the pack. I thought I was safe. There was a lot of buzz and excitement in the office as the organizers counted down the last half hour of bidding. I had to go into a conference call during that time, but the overall bidding was along the same lines. It seemed to be a question of which of the top people would finish up in front, with the other ten of us lagging miles behind.
I came out of my call to find that someone had been doing some sneaky secretive collecting, and literally in the last minute dropped nearly $400 on my name! To say I was in shock was an understatement. Especially when I realized I would have to break the news to Ali. But a deal is a deal, so it had to come off!
Before - yes, I was a bit of a scruff. I normally don’t have a full beard and I keep it trimmed short. But for the occasion I let everything grow out all month.
After - including a drastic haircut.
Overall, the office raised just over $1,300 for Movember, so it was worth it.
This year, my office decided to hold a “reverse Movember”. A group of us who already had facial hair signed up, and all month people in the office placed money on the individual(s) they most wanted to see shave it all off.
I’ve taken part in Movember a couple of times before, where I started the month clean-shaven. Ali hates it! She was happy for me to enter this time - as long as I didn’t “win”.
Throughout the month, there were three or four front runners miles ahead of the rest of the pack. I thought I was safe. There was a lot of buzz and excitement in the office as the organizers counted down the last half hour of bidding. I had to go into a conference call during that time, but the overall bidding was along the same lines. It seemed to be a question of which of the top people would finish up in front, with the other ten of us lagging miles behind.
I came out of my call to find that someone had been doing some sneaky secretive collecting, and literally in the last minute dropped nearly $400 on my name! To say I was in shock was an understatement. Especially when I realized I would have to break the news to Ali. But a deal is a deal, so it had to come off!
Before - yes, I was a bit of a scruff. I normally don’t have a full beard and I keep it trimmed short. But for the occasion I let everything grow out all month.
After - including a drastic haircut.
Overall, the office raised just over $1,300 for Movember, so it was worth it.
Saturday, June 1, 2019
Treat every day like your first
My organization puts on a fabulous learning event each year, where they invite speakers and facilitators to talk and lead sessions. The event took place last week over three days with a variety of sessions to choose from. It’s an opportunity for staff to get out of the office for a day or two and hear some great speakers.
One of the keynote speakers last week was the inspirational Drew Dudley. He talks all over the world about everyday leadership, and his theme was the need to come into work every day as if it’s your first day on the job.
Yes, there’s a funny story behind this about a tour guide who took him out into the desert in a dune buggy, but the guide brought such joy and energy to his work because, as he put it, “I’ve been doing the same job for seventeen years, and every day is my first day.”
And it occurred to me this morning that the same applies in life outside of work.
When we emigrated from Britain to Canada, we expected to have some tough adjustments to make. One of the golden pieces of advice on immigration is to make a list of all the reasons why you chose to move. When things get tough, take out that list to remind yourself why you did this.
That advice is along the same lines of resetting your mental state to recapture the hope and excitement of those early days. Drew Dudley just takes it a lot further.
And it’s true. As I drove to the grocery store this morning, I was struck afresh by my beautiful surroundings. Glorious sunshine, open fields, mountains in the distance, wide and empty roads ... And I could appreciate afresh the unhurried ease of shopping, uncrowded aisles, the friendly staff ... as if for the first time.
So, despite all the people-driven crap going on in the world, take time to look with fresh eyes at the wonder that is the world we live in. The wonder that we all too easily take for granted.
One of the keynote speakers last week was the inspirational Drew Dudley. He talks all over the world about everyday leadership, and his theme was the need to come into work every day as if it’s your first day on the job.
Yes, there’s a funny story behind this about a tour guide who took him out into the desert in a dune buggy, but the guide brought such joy and energy to his work because, as he put it, “I’ve been doing the same job for seventeen years, and every day is my first day.”
And it occurred to me this morning that the same applies in life outside of work.
When we emigrated from Britain to Canada, we expected to have some tough adjustments to make. One of the golden pieces of advice on immigration is to make a list of all the reasons why you chose to move. When things get tough, take out that list to remind yourself why you did this.
That advice is along the same lines of resetting your mental state to recapture the hope and excitement of those early days. Drew Dudley just takes it a lot further.
And it’s true. As I drove to the grocery store this morning, I was struck afresh by my beautiful surroundings. Glorious sunshine, open fields, mountains in the distance, wide and empty roads ... And I could appreciate afresh the unhurried ease of shopping, uncrowded aisles, the friendly staff ... as if for the first time.
So, despite all the people-driven crap going on in the world, take time to look with fresh eyes at the wonder that is the world we live in. The wonder that we all too easily take for granted.
Saturday, August 25, 2018
My daughter thinks I’m a British spy
And apparently all her friends are also convinced I’m a spy.
Seems it stemmed from her being consistently unable to tell her friends what I do for a living. And I can understand her difficulty because, apart from my job title (Director of Application Management) I find it hard to describe what I actually do.
This has always been a problem, when we used to have more regular family dinners and rounds of “what did you do today”. Trying to describe what I did today in a way that would make sense to anyone is nigh-on impossible without sending everyone to sleep. I blogged about this a few years ago here.
That was a typical day back then. Things are not often as hectic now, but still hard to wrap your head around unless you understand the IT world, so my stock answer to that dinnertime question has always been “meetings”.
As a result, this sense of mystery evolved into speculation that I must be involved in something clandestine for the government, and speculation that we moved from England to Canada because we had to flee the country in secret.
I guess it doesn’t help that all her friends also know I write stories about undercover agents, assassins, and plots and intrigues. How would I know all that stuff unless I was a spy? Hint: I don’t, it’s all a big bluff!
Still, it came as a bit of a shock to think that she honestly thought her balding, middle-aged daddy, cultivating a food baby, might have a dark secret life.
And I almost think she was serious, too!
Seems it stemmed from her being consistently unable to tell her friends what I do for a living. And I can understand her difficulty because, apart from my job title (Director of Application Management) I find it hard to describe what I actually do.
This has always been a problem, when we used to have more regular family dinners and rounds of “what did you do today”. Trying to describe what I did today in a way that would make sense to anyone is nigh-on impossible without sending everyone to sleep. I blogged about this a few years ago here.
That was a typical day back then. Things are not often as hectic now, but still hard to wrap your head around unless you understand the IT world, so my stock answer to that dinnertime question has always been “meetings”.
As a result, this sense of mystery evolved into speculation that I must be involved in something clandestine for the government, and speculation that we moved from England to Canada because we had to flee the country in secret.
I guess it doesn’t help that all her friends also know I write stories about undercover agents, assassins, and plots and intrigues. How would I know all that stuff unless I was a spy? Hint: I don’t, it’s all a big bluff!
Still, it came as a bit of a shock to think that she honestly thought her balding, middle-aged daddy, cultivating a food baby, might have a dark secret life.
And I almost think she was serious, too!
Sunday, August 19, 2018
Agile thinking in writing
Last week I took a one-day introduction to Agile. As an approach to writing software, Agile has been around for years, but it seems to be becoming the norm now that more tools are out there to support the approach with automated testing and deployment.
Our division is running full tilt into this new world, hence the introductory training.
The software world grew from an esoteric art form and, in an effort to mature its practices, has traditionally treated itself like an engineering discipline - hence “software engineering”. It borrowed practices from the engineering world, where things like bridges and buildings can be planned out to the Nth degree before a single concrete piling is poured.
This works very well for buildings and bridges. People have been building them for millennia, and the principles and materials in use are well understood. It is perfectly practical to design a structure on paper, and be confident that the end result will be built according to plan.
The trouble with applying that thinking to software, is that the world is still young, and the principles are poorly understood, and new ideas (new building materials) are being constantly invented.
Worse, people have lived with buildings and bridges for thousands of years and pretty much know what they do and what they want from them. Software, on the other hand, is constantly opening up new horizons and new ways for people to interact. And that world is expanding at an exponential rate.
So, the engineering approach to software suffers from two fatal assumptions. That it’s reasonable to expect people to know in advance what they want, and that the world won’t change beyond recognition while you’re in the middle of delivering the product. These assumptions work well for bridges and buildings. Software blows them both out the water.
Agile sidesteps these assumptions by using an exploratory approach to software development. The overall goal should be understood, but how you get there will evolve as you start building, start showing some results, and get feedback to guide you. Rather than everything being planned out up front, what you do now ... what avenues you explore ... will educate you better on what works and what doesn’t and will guide what you do next.
As I sat through the day, I realized that this closely mirrors my own approach to writing. I do start with a goal in mind, but with no idea how I’m going to get there.
I start writing.
What I learn from what I write (or where I get stuck) will inform where I go next. I don’t start at the beginning and plow through to the end, I find the story structure emerges as I try out scenes and get to understand the story better. I hop around picking the next section to attack, and priorities will change as things get fleshed out. The whole writing process for me is an exploration and a learning activity.
It shares a lot of characteristics with this Agile approach to software that I have to learn to manage. Maybe there’s hope for this old dinosaur yet.
Our division is running full tilt into this new world, hence the introductory training.
The software world grew from an esoteric art form and, in an effort to mature its practices, has traditionally treated itself like an engineering discipline - hence “software engineering”. It borrowed practices from the engineering world, where things like bridges and buildings can be planned out to the Nth degree before a single concrete piling is poured.
This works very well for buildings and bridges. People have been building them for millennia, and the principles and materials in use are well understood. It is perfectly practical to design a structure on paper, and be confident that the end result will be built according to plan.
The trouble with applying that thinking to software, is that the world is still young, and the principles are poorly understood, and new ideas (new building materials) are being constantly invented.
Worse, people have lived with buildings and bridges for thousands of years and pretty much know what they do and what they want from them. Software, on the other hand, is constantly opening up new horizons and new ways for people to interact. And that world is expanding at an exponential rate.
So, the engineering approach to software suffers from two fatal assumptions. That it’s reasonable to expect people to know in advance what they want, and that the world won’t change beyond recognition while you’re in the middle of delivering the product. These assumptions work well for bridges and buildings. Software blows them both out the water.
Agile sidesteps these assumptions by using an exploratory approach to software development. The overall goal should be understood, but how you get there will evolve as you start building, start showing some results, and get feedback to guide you. Rather than everything being planned out up front, what you do now ... what avenues you explore ... will educate you better on what works and what doesn’t and will guide what you do next.
As I sat through the day, I realized that this closely mirrors my own approach to writing. I do start with a goal in mind, but with no idea how I’m going to get there.
I start writing.
What I learn from what I write (or where I get stuck) will inform where I go next. I don’t start at the beginning and plow through to the end, I find the story structure emerges as I try out scenes and get to understand the story better. I hop around picking the next section to attack, and priorities will change as things get fleshed out. The whole writing process for me is an exploration and a learning activity.
It shares a lot of characteristics with this Agile approach to software that I have to learn to manage. Maybe there’s hope for this old dinosaur yet.
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Inner peace
Last weekend, I was thinking about writing a post on introversion/extroversion, when I remembered I already did something like that a year ago, and for much the same reason.
This time last year we held a division-wide all staff meeting. Given that we were bringing hundreds of people together from all over the province, and that most of them work directly on front counters serving the public, that conference took place over a weekend which took away the time I normally depend on - as an extreme introvert - to recharge my mental batteries.
Last weekend I reached the end of two weeks of highly intense and interactive departures from regular work, which for introverts is the definition of exhaustion.
We had another division-wide conference, but this time it was a smaller group and was able to take place on regular workdays. It was three days of presentations (which us directors had to prepare and deliver) and some great conversations. On its own that would have been fine, but by sheer coincidence it was book-ended by four days’ traveling out of town on an intense project workshop the preceding week, and followed by two days’ highly interactive training on, of all things, giving presentations.
Don’t get me wrong, these were all fabulous experiences individually, but run them consecutively and by the end I was ready for the funny farm.
It’s taken me the past week to get back on an even keel work-wise and energy-wise. Along the way it got me musing about the kinds of people the workplace values.
As a society, we claim to value diversity, and yet it seems we consistently revert to one image of success: that of outgoing sociability, to whom “networking opportunities” represent joy unbounded. This ignores a significant portion of the population to whom the words invoke a visceral dread.
It kinda peeves me that people seem to expect introverts to behave like extroverts in order to progress, but that seems to be the world we live in. Is my perspective simply skewed? How does it look from your perspective?
Meanwhile, I’m enjoying a weekend of rest and re-energizing activities such as reading and writing and long walks in the spring sunshine. How about you?
This time last year we held a division-wide all staff meeting. Given that we were bringing hundreds of people together from all over the province, and that most of them work directly on front counters serving the public, that conference took place over a weekend which took away the time I normally depend on - as an extreme introvert - to recharge my mental batteries.
Last weekend I reached the end of two weeks of highly intense and interactive departures from regular work, which for introverts is the definition of exhaustion.
We had another division-wide conference, but this time it was a smaller group and was able to take place on regular workdays. It was three days of presentations (which us directors had to prepare and deliver) and some great conversations. On its own that would have been fine, but by sheer coincidence it was book-ended by four days’ traveling out of town on an intense project workshop the preceding week, and followed by two days’ highly interactive training on, of all things, giving presentations.
Don’t get me wrong, these were all fabulous experiences individually, but run them consecutively and by the end I was ready for the funny farm.
It’s taken me the past week to get back on an even keel work-wise and energy-wise. Along the way it got me musing about the kinds of people the workplace values.
As a society, we claim to value diversity, and yet it seems we consistently revert to one image of success: that of outgoing sociability, to whom “networking opportunities” represent joy unbounded. This ignores a significant portion of the population to whom the words invoke a visceral dread.
It kinda peeves me that people seem to expect introverts to behave like extroverts in order to progress, but that seems to be the world we live in. Is my perspective simply skewed? How does it look from your perspective?
Meanwhile, I’m enjoying a weekend of rest and re-energizing activities such as reading and writing and long walks in the spring sunshine. How about you?
Saturday, October 8, 2016
The pace of change
I’m an IT director in our provincial government, and last week my ministry organized a two-day conference to explore themes and trends in technology.
One of the biggest messages I took from those two days - reinforced by one speaker after another - was the pace of change in the technology world.
It’s scary!
No, I mean really scary, as in ten years from now will anyone who’s an adult today even understand the world any more?
Ideas that were pure science fiction ten years ago are reality today. And the scariest part is that the pace of change is exponential. That means that in five years time we’ll be living with technology that is speculative and far-fetched today. And the same will be true a mere two years after that. Then a year after that.
Will we be able to recognize the world a generation from now?
Regardless of the real world, this poses serious problems for sci-fi writers. We all know how novels from the 1950s feel dated today because of the changes in technology, but they still enjoyed a few decades’ shelf life first.
Ten years ago I was writing a novel (which I never finished) that involved computers worn as jewelry, gesture recognition, direct neural stimulation to provide sensory input, and an exclusively virtual interface. That all seemed safely far-fetched back then, but ten years on all those elements are here today in some form or another.
When I wrote Tiamat’s Nest, autonomous self-driving cars still seemed safely a few decades away because computers as a whole were still too prone to stupid errors and failures to be entrusted with the task. But this year we have them on the streets in some cities. That frightens me because no matter how well they perform when things are going well, computers are still dangerously error-prone. Not to mention prone to malware, and how about the prospect of being kidnapped by your own car - the ultimate in ransomware?
So, to all member of Homo Sapiens V1.0 out there, how do you cope with the accelerating pace of change in the real world. And to sci-fi writers, how do you stay speculative when the most way-out ideas you have might become reality before your book is even published?
One of the biggest messages I took from those two days - reinforced by one speaker after another - was the pace of change in the technology world.
It’s scary!
No, I mean really scary, as in ten years from now will anyone who’s an adult today even understand the world any more?
Ideas that were pure science fiction ten years ago are reality today. And the scariest part is that the pace of change is exponential. That means that in five years time we’ll be living with technology that is speculative and far-fetched today. And the same will be true a mere two years after that. Then a year after that.
Will we be able to recognize the world a generation from now?
Regardless of the real world, this poses serious problems for sci-fi writers. We all know how novels from the 1950s feel dated today because of the changes in technology, but they still enjoyed a few decades’ shelf life first.
Ten years ago I was writing a novel (which I never finished) that involved computers worn as jewelry, gesture recognition, direct neural stimulation to provide sensory input, and an exclusively virtual interface. That all seemed safely far-fetched back then, but ten years on all those elements are here today in some form or another.
When I wrote Tiamat’s Nest, autonomous self-driving cars still seemed safely a few decades away because computers as a whole were still too prone to stupid errors and failures to be entrusted with the task. But this year we have them on the streets in some cities. That frightens me because no matter how well they perform when things are going well, computers are still dangerously error-prone. Not to mention prone to malware, and how about the prospect of being kidnapped by your own car - the ultimate in ransomware?
So, to all member of Homo Sapiens V1.0 out there, how do you cope with the accelerating pace of change in the real world. And to sci-fi writers, how do you stay speculative when the most way-out ideas you have might become reality before your book is even published?
Friday, April 4, 2014
Spring is sprung
This is my favorite time of year. The days are lighter, the sun is out (sometimes), and everything is springing into new and fresh growth. Cherry blossom briefly brightens the streets all over town.
I am settling into a new job. The initial feelings of drowning are fading, and I'm now getting to grips with the acute awareness that I've got to start producing results. And there's so much to do it's hard to know where to start.
I'm getting used to that little extra traveling - now based downtown rather than on the outskirts. This is especially true of cycling. First time out, on the return journey my legs seemed to go on strike at the 21km mark, reminding me that we should have been home by now while I persuaded them to keep going the extra 4km.
All this means upheaval that I'm giving the A to Z a miss this year, but I'm cheering from the sidelines for all those intrepid bloggers taking part in the blogging marathon this year.
I am settling into a new job. The initial feelings of drowning are fading, and I'm now getting to grips with the acute awareness that I've got to start producing results. And there's so much to do it's hard to know where to start.
I'm getting used to that little extra traveling - now based downtown rather than on the outskirts. This is especially true of cycling. First time out, on the return journey my legs seemed to go on strike at the 21km mark, reminding me that we should have been home by now while I persuaded them to keep going the extra 4km.
All this means upheaval that I'm giving the A to Z a miss this year, but I'm cheering from the sidelines for all those intrepid bloggers taking part in the blogging marathon this year.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
We are emotional animals
It's been a week of emotional turmoil this past week. Nothing bad happened, quite the opposite, but all the same the effect has been draining.
Back before Christmas, I applied for another position in Government, and was called for a written assignment and an interview in January. Last week I was told they wanted to make me an offer.
All good news. This was a position I was interested in, it represents a step up, and it sounds like a great fit for my experience.
Being a logical and analytical person, I was prepared to weigh the pros and cons and practicalities and everything points to this being the right move for me.
I was totally unprepared for the rush of unfamiliar and unexpected emotions to follow.
There were the obvious suspects: elation at winning (when I'd more-or-less resigned myself to bad news) balanced with fear of the unknown, and feelings of "am I doing the right thing?" There is still anxiety about leaving behind so much familiarity (I've been working in the same building for over eight years), but relief at the prospect of leaving behind the accumulated baggage of eight years, and sadness at the people I'll be parting from.
But the overwhelming sensation was of being adrift, of not belonging either here or there. I sat in work meetings, suddenly feeling cut off and disengaged like the topics at hand were no longer my concern. The sensation of suspended animation was heightened by anxiety that it wasn't yet entirely real. It was a couple of days before I had a chance to sit down with my new boss to discuss the offer, then I informed my direct colleagues, then waited for a more formal communication to be emailed out. All this time I felt like I was adrift between two worlds and that events had suddenly taken a life of their own. There will be more of that to come, as I start to hand over my duties and begin to move into my new role.
Meanwhile, I started to feel better yesterday when I finally found time to sit down and start making notes to hand over. That simple act gave me a much-needed compass bearing for my nervous energy. And I started to feel excited by the possibilities and what I hope I can bring to my new team. That has got to be a good sign.
The lesson is that, much as we like to think we are rational and in control, that is a long way from the truth. Like a dinghy in mid-ocean, while the waters are calm and the wind is steady we can choose our heading. But when the storm rises, the best we can do is cling on and hope to stay afloat. The illusion of control is shattered.
We are, by nature, emotional rather than rational animals. When we get a gut feeling, we may try to rationalize it or argue against it, but all we are really doing is trying to fool or persuade the emotional being at our core that is really calling the shots. And that rarely works, because it is evolutionarily older and wiser than our rational selves.
And that emotional self has been well and truly at the helm this past week.
Back before Christmas, I applied for another position in Government, and was called for a written assignment and an interview in January. Last week I was told they wanted to make me an offer.
All good news. This was a position I was interested in, it represents a step up, and it sounds like a great fit for my experience.
Being a logical and analytical person, I was prepared to weigh the pros and cons and practicalities and everything points to this being the right move for me.
I was totally unprepared for the rush of unfamiliar and unexpected emotions to follow.
There were the obvious suspects: elation at winning (when I'd more-or-less resigned myself to bad news) balanced with fear of the unknown, and feelings of "am I doing the right thing?" There is still anxiety about leaving behind so much familiarity (I've been working in the same building for over eight years), but relief at the prospect of leaving behind the accumulated baggage of eight years, and sadness at the people I'll be parting from.
But the overwhelming sensation was of being adrift, of not belonging either here or there. I sat in work meetings, suddenly feeling cut off and disengaged like the topics at hand were no longer my concern. The sensation of suspended animation was heightened by anxiety that it wasn't yet entirely real. It was a couple of days before I had a chance to sit down with my new boss to discuss the offer, then I informed my direct colleagues, then waited for a more formal communication to be emailed out. All this time I felt like I was adrift between two worlds and that events had suddenly taken a life of their own. There will be more of that to come, as I start to hand over my duties and begin to move into my new role.
Meanwhile, I started to feel better yesterday when I finally found time to sit down and start making notes to hand over. That simple act gave me a much-needed compass bearing for my nervous energy. And I started to feel excited by the possibilities and what I hope I can bring to my new team. That has got to be a good sign.
The lesson is that, much as we like to think we are rational and in control, that is a long way from the truth. Like a dinghy in mid-ocean, while the waters are calm and the wind is steady we can choose our heading. But when the storm rises, the best we can do is cling on and hope to stay afloat. The illusion of control is shattered.
We are, by nature, emotional rather than rational animals. When we get a gut feeling, we may try to rationalize it or argue against it, but all we are really doing is trying to fool or persuade the emotional being at our core that is really calling the shots. And that rarely works, because it is evolutionarily older and wiser than our rational selves.
And that emotional self has been well and truly at the helm this past week.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
A to Z 2013
I loved the comments on my last A to Z related post, trying to guess what my theme for this year might be.
All good guesses, and perfectly logical from what you see of me on this blog, but all way off the mark. Nobody hit on my day job, which is probably fair because I make a point of not posting about it too much.
This year, I will be posting alphabetically on topics related to software development.
* Pause for my two readers to polarize into opposing camps *
That statement probably had tech-heads salivating at the thought of posts on SQL, Java, OO, and server virtualization, and had everyone else running for the hills.
There will be none of that tech-speak in this series
If anything, it's quite an anti-nerd series. I will be posting about the human side of software development, and the need to keep the geek firmly in the closet when trying to solve real world needs.
I hope it's something non-IT people will find interesting. IT folks are welcome, too!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Origins addendum
Some of the comments on my "Origins" post on Monday sparked a couple of thoughts which were worth follow-up posts.
In my "Origins" story, it sounded like I just started writing out of the blue. That's certainly how it felt at the time, and, as far as recreational creative writing goes, that is indeed true.
But, in retrospect, it wasn't quite as surprising as I may have portrayed it.
Looking back, I've actually been writing for many years, I just didn't realize it at the time.
Until my family and I left the UK, I was a software developer. Far broader than just programming, my work was "soup to nuts", and the dry world of professional IT offered many surprising opportunities for good writing - if only you knew where to look for them.
First off, there's the obvious world of coding comments. Long ago, I learned to respect the human mind's tendency to forget what was running through it at the time it wrote something. So, I learned the value of very clear explanations of complex thought processes, written as if explaining something to a complete stranger.
Then my company moved to data dictionary technology, and comprehensive documentation was embedded deep into every aspect of the development cycle. Faced with the task of describing, for example, the "Customer number" field, it begged a response slightly more substantial than "A number for the customer."
So, I practiced the art of asking, "What thing of value can I say about this?" and I lost my paralysis when faced with a blank page, and nothing more than vague and elusive thoughts with which to fill it.
In other parts of the software development cycle, I waged a crusade to write things like business requirements, process descriptions, high level system designs, and user guides, in plain and accessible lay terms. If I could write something that didn't induce chronic narcolepsy, I reasoned, then maybe people would actually read the darned things.
More than this, some of these documents verged on storytelling. Did you ever realise how much a complex workflow resembles a story? There's the end user - the protagonist - embarking on an epic journey to place a purchase order, playing a deadly game of "Hunt the Part Number" with the Guardian of the Database, seeking the blessing of the Expense Authorities, and then battling the perils of Misquoted Prices, Partial Deliveries, and Changing Requirements.
I developed stamina, too. Some of these documents ran to hundreds of pages.
At the other end of the scale, my professional work sometimes demanded leanness bordering on the anorexic. Ever tried to present a complex business case, with an explanation (to someone who is meeting this proposal for the first time), options with pros and cons, and a recommendation - all in less than two pages?
When you add this all up, throwing in a bit of fiction wasn't so much of a leap after all.
Question: What opportunities for writing present themselves in your life?
Question: What opportunities for writing present themselves in your life?
Saturday, April 16, 2011
On the move again
Isn't it funny how often either nothing seems to go right, or everything seems to tick along nicely? I know the human mind is always on the lookout for patterns, but those kinds of periods in life always seem to stick in the mind.
Last week at work was way less frenetic than any other time this year. There's lots going on, but I found time to breathe, time to think. Yesterday, especially, I was able to sit down and apply some uninterrupted thought to some of the problems facing the team. Whether any of that thinking was worthwhile or not is still to be seen, but it was a refreshing change. Something I have badly missed.
Today, in a rare break in the un-Spring-like weather this year, I got out the paint and started some finishing touches on the pirate ship. Photos to follow when I have more progress to show.
And also today, I finally got around to submitting more novel chapters to Critique Circle. I've resigned myself to the fact that revisions are going to lag way behind the critiques, and decided to push more through the queue. This is going to be a long process, and right now it's standing in between me and some real writing.
Last week at work was way less frenetic than any other time this year. There's lots going on, but I found time to breathe, time to think. Yesterday, especially, I was able to sit down and apply some uninterrupted thought to some of the problems facing the team. Whether any of that thinking was worthwhile or not is still to be seen, but it was a refreshing change. Something I have badly missed.
Today, in a rare break in the un-Spring-like weather this year, I got out the paint and started some finishing touches on the pirate ship. Photos to follow when I have more progress to show.
And also today, I finally got around to submitting more novel chapters to Critique Circle. I've resigned myself to the fact that revisions are going to lag way behind the critiques, and decided to push more through the queue. This is going to be a long process, and right now it's standing in between me and some real writing.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Help desk shorthand
Random thought #1: my team provides technical support for a portfolio of large software applications. We use a ticketing system to log and track calls from customers. When each ticket is resolved, it needs to be updated with details of cause and resolution.
Random thought #2: most typed notes these days are sprinkled with widely-understood shorthand notations, e.g. LOL, ROFL, IMO, WTF, ...
Breed the two thoughts, and you get ...
ACE - Another customer error
AFTUNG - Application failed through unexplained network glitch
APADNSAC - Application performing as designed, not sure about customer
BRAZIL - Customer is nuts
INABIAF - It's not a bug, it's a feature
NIT - Network is toast
PIIS - Plug it in, stupid!
RTFM - Read the freakin' manual
SHAFAWISM - Server had a fit and went into single-user mode
SINP - Software is not psychic
UCOW - User can't operate Windows
Random thought #2: most typed notes these days are sprinkled with widely-understood shorthand notations, e.g. LOL, ROFL, IMO, WTF, ...
Breed the two thoughts, and you get ...
A dictionary of help desk shorthand
ACE - Another customer error
AFTUNG - Application failed through unexplained network glitch
APADNSAC - Application performing as designed, not sure about customer
BRAZIL - Customer is nuts
INABIAF - It's not a bug, it's a feature
NIT - Network is toast
PIIS - Plug it in, stupid!
RTFM - Read the freakin' manual
SHAFAWISM - Server had a fit and went into single-user mode
SINP - Software is not psychic
UCOW - User can't operate Windows
Important note: all the above are entirely fictitious. Almost. Whatever! We would never, ever ... ever ... put anything disparaging about a customer into a help desk ticket.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Last post of the decade
As 2010 draws to a close, I am enjoying a rare few minutes of tranquility. Amazing, considering that we have a house-full right now.
At work, we got the all-clear to finish early this afternoon. These three days between Christmas and New Year are always a blessed opportunity to take time out from the usual pressing demands.
This is now the third year in a row that I've used the time to focus my thoughts on the essentials of my role as a manager, with a view to regaining control of my own time. In past years, all the good intentions evaporated early January in a flurry of new issues, new projects, and the clinging baggage of last year's loose ends.
This year will be different! Now I've roped in other managers and my boss to help me keep focused, and to help work out whether I am going mad trying to do other people's jobs for them, or whether maybe there really should be two of me.
But that was earlier.
Now I'm home. The family are home. Ali's parents are still with us until next week, and we have to make room for our friend Bob, visiting from up-island for New Year. So my desk and laptop have temporarily migrated from the end room (my "office" and general store and rubbish dump) downstairs into our bedroom, so we can set up the foldaway bed.
I am sitting here in the warmth of the wood stove, listening to conversations upstairs. The kids are outside playing while the sunshine lasts. No arguments! Bliss! Bob, who is a keen musician, is giving Matthew's keyboard a try out. It is lovely to hear music permeating the house.
Soon we will be on our way to a party at the nearby Recreation Centre. Swimming and skating, water slide and hot tub await, followed by music and fireworks.
But the best bit is, when I post this, I know I will be sharing my experience with some new friends scattered across the globe. This blogging experiment is probably the biggest surprise of the year for me, and I am amazed at the people I've made contact with in just a few short months.
So, to all those of you who have added a new dimension to my life, I wish you all best wishes for 2011.
At work, we got the all-clear to finish early this afternoon. These three days between Christmas and New Year are always a blessed opportunity to take time out from the usual pressing demands.
This is now the third year in a row that I've used the time to focus my thoughts on the essentials of my role as a manager, with a view to regaining control of my own time. In past years, all the good intentions evaporated early January in a flurry of new issues, new projects, and the clinging baggage of last year's loose ends.
This year will be different! Now I've roped in other managers and my boss to help me keep focused, and to help work out whether I am going mad trying to do other people's jobs for them, or whether maybe there really should be two of me.
But that was earlier.
Now I'm home. The family are home. Ali's parents are still with us until next week, and we have to make room for our friend Bob, visiting from up-island for New Year. So my desk and laptop have temporarily migrated from the end room (my "office" and general store and rubbish dump) downstairs into our bedroom, so we can set up the foldaway bed.
I am sitting here in the warmth of the wood stove, listening to conversations upstairs. The kids are outside playing while the sunshine lasts. No arguments! Bliss! Bob, who is a keen musician, is giving Matthew's keyboard a try out. It is lovely to hear music permeating the house.
Soon we will be on our way to a party at the nearby Recreation Centre. Swimming and skating, water slide and hot tub await, followed by music and fireworks.
But the best bit is, when I post this, I know I will be sharing my experience with some new friends scattered across the globe. This blogging experiment is probably the biggest surprise of the year for me, and I am amazed at the people I've made contact with in just a few short months.
So, to all those of you who have added a new dimension to my life, I wish you all best wishes for 2011.
Friday, November 5, 2010
No No WriMo
Many writerly blogs are a bit on the quiet side at the moment as many people take part in the annual writing marathon known as National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. The idea of this is to write, from scratch, a novel of 50,000 words in the month of November.
It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be there.
The month is an orgy of speed writing, never mind the quality feel the word count, and endless angst over targets and shortfalls. Progress counters sprout like mushrooms in the blogoshpere.
No, before you ask, I'm not doing it.
Real life is intruding way too heavily on my writing time these days to even think about that kind of output. Actually, I think that time is not so much the problem as energy.
Cutbacks at work over the last year have left my division barely able to sustain day to day operations. On top of that we have added workload imposed from above in the form of reorganisations, new planning processes, massive projects to deliver new political initiatives, and wholesale office moves to consolidate space to allow building leases to be given up.
People can only sustain that pace of work for a limited time. We've been keeping it up without relief and without an end in sight for over a year. Everybody acknowledges that it's a problem. Nobody is offering any practical answers.
I've been holding a cold at bay for the last month on a blend of Benylin and adrenalin. I came home this evening and promptly fell asleep.
Writing is a mentally demanding activity. When I'm in the groove, words flow smoothly for a while, but only after I've invested the mental gruntwork to envisage clearly what I'm trying to write.
At the moment, that is out of the question. The best I can hope for is to peck away more at revising Ghosts and maybe start putting chapters up for critique.
It feels a bit like watching the London marathon, seeing all those people braver than me pounding the course, and feeling their pain.
So...from the sidelines...NaNoWriters, I salute you!
It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be there.
The month is an orgy of speed writing, never mind the quality feel the word count, and endless angst over targets and shortfalls. Progress counters sprout like mushrooms in the blogoshpere.
No, before you ask, I'm not doing it.
Real life is intruding way too heavily on my writing time these days to even think about that kind of output. Actually, I think that time is not so much the problem as energy.
Cutbacks at work over the last year have left my division barely able to sustain day to day operations. On top of that we have added workload imposed from above in the form of reorganisations, new planning processes, massive projects to deliver new political initiatives, and wholesale office moves to consolidate space to allow building leases to be given up.
People can only sustain that pace of work for a limited time. We've been keeping it up without relief and without an end in sight for over a year. Everybody acknowledges that it's a problem. Nobody is offering any practical answers.
I've been holding a cold at bay for the last month on a blend of Benylin and adrenalin. I came home this evening and promptly fell asleep.
Writing is a mentally demanding activity. When I'm in the groove, words flow smoothly for a while, but only after I've invested the mental gruntwork to envisage clearly what I'm trying to write.
At the moment, that is out of the question. The best I can hope for is to peck away more at revising Ghosts and maybe start putting chapters up for critique.
It feels a bit like watching the London marathon, seeing all those people braver than me pounding the course, and feeling their pain.
So...from the sidelines...NaNoWriters, I salute you!
Friday, October 8, 2010
A day in the life...
Sometimes when we sit down to eat as a family, we go through the usual rounds of "what did you do at school/work today?" We each take turns to tell something about our respective days.
When it comes to me, unless something out of the ordinary has happened that the rest of the family can relate to (i.e. not technical IT stuff), and unless I've seen deer or other wildlife on the trail, my stock response is usually "meetings". It's become a bit of a standing joke. I mean, most of what I do would need an hour of backstory and explanation to make any sense of it, or is just one of a myriad tiny events that make up my day.
So here is my dinner-time report of a typical day last week...
8:15 Drop lunch things on desk and sign on to network. Launch usual programs - Outlook, a time tracking spreadsheet, and a word document with all my "to-do's" and reference information. I'd be lost without that document.
Clear out action items finished yesterday, check calendar (groan!), and skim emails for anything burning. I like to keep my inbox down to one page, everything else gets deleted, answered and deleted, or added to my to-do list and filed or deleted.
8:30 Weekly one-on-one with one of my direct reports. Quick check-in, things going OK. Finish early.
8:50 Manage to get hold of member of staff to verify what an expense claim covers (system descriptions not very descriptive) and what is still left to pay.
9:00 Meeting with five members of staff to discuss exchange of knowledge on how to maintain part of one of our systems. They've already got things rolling. Good. Way more "can-do" and initiative now than when I first joined the department.
9:25 Director collars me and one of my team leads looking for some information on another application. Needed urgently for a business case going into the new technology planning process for next fiscal.
9:30 Weekly progress meeting on a development project to replace an obsolete module that refused to port to Windows 2003. Verified everything ready for a demo to the business owners this afternoon.
10:00 Gap before next meeting. Clear off the emails that keep magically appearing.
Crap. Server issues affecting another one of our applications. The team is stretched trying to keep production services running, and an aggressive project manager is still badgering them about some testing due to be completed today. Get real! I need to step in for a manager-to-manager chat about priorities. Few trips backwards and forwards through the building to calm nerves, discuss business pressures and priorities, and get a true sense of the issues and possibilities. With contractual obligations hanging over us, the business owner is seriously thinking about putting this testing ahead of production. That is unheard of; he must be nervous. It's his call at the end of the day, but I need to make darned sure he has good information to base a decision on. The team at my end also need clear direction and reassurance that I'm ready to back them up and keep the shit off their backs. Compose a quick email to summarise the conclusions clearly, and then speak to the director in Hosting to escalate the issue.
11:00 Weekly one-on-one with another direct report. All calm there too.
11:30 Meeting with a Security manager to discuss internet blocking policy.
12:00 Another email blitz. Wow! Some good news about a member of staff who's been battling cancer and might be getting ready to return to work. It's nice to hear good tidings once in a while.
Server issues still not fixed, but business owner seems reconciled to the testing being held up.
12:15 Update performance and development plan. Work goals still relevant. Career goals...entirely irrelevant while we're all in siege mode trying to survive on a shoestring.
12:30 Breathing space to get back to those emails that I've not had a chance to deal with properly yet. Yes, I do have a system, but some things need a bit more time to handle than others and it's amazing how quickly things can get out of control. Clear out all the older versions of running email conversations. Delete anything that I missed first time around. Read the rest carefully to make sure there's not an action item buried in there. Don't want to drop anything.
12:50 Try to track down my director to check in on a few things. Saw she's had some information from the team but want to make sure she's got what she needs for the planning meeting. Also not yet had a chance to brief her on the service issues (still outstanding).
1:05 Eat lunch while reading a redrafted business case. Morphed from a relatively simple replacement proposal into a transformational service management strategy. Nicely worded, clear story. Well done. Note of appreciation to the authors.
1:50 Go down to the presentation room to help prepare for the demonstration. Mild heart attack. The room is full of other people and they look like they're settled in for a long spell! Double check room booking. Yes, officially we're still on. Start sweating as 2:00 approaches, my team and business users gather outside the door, and the squatters seem no closer to finishing.
2:00 Mild heart attack.
2:00:30 Room empties. We enter. Presentation goes well and we finish early.
2:50 Meet with manager colleague to discuss agenda items for an all-staff meeting scheduled next week. Director supposed to be there but warned me she might not make it. We reckon there are some big-ticket items that will be on people's minds so build the agenda around those.
3:30 Back to email hell.
3:40 Mentally shift gears again. Gather together preparation notes for interview we need to conduct next week.
4:00 Meeting with other member of interview panel to discuss key selection criteria and suitable questions. Director still tied up in planning meeting, and it's her competition. We reckon we've got a good set of questions now, but will need to discuss weightings and scoring next week.
4:40 Final tidy up. Check no loose ends and nothing critical left outstanding.
There's a year's worth of stuff on my to-do list that I may never get around to doing. In this overstretched and understaffed world prioritisation is the name of the game. We are all living under the tyranny of the immediate. If I can get through the day finishing the things I'd earmarked for today then I'm happy. If I knock off an item from tomorrow's list ahead of time, well, that's a bonus.
4:50 Shut down PC and head for home.
So, how would you convey any of that at the family dinner table?
When it comes to me, unless something out of the ordinary has happened that the rest of the family can relate to (i.e. not technical IT stuff), and unless I've seen deer or other wildlife on the trail, my stock response is usually "meetings". It's become a bit of a standing joke. I mean, most of what I do would need an hour of backstory and explanation to make any sense of it, or is just one of a myriad tiny events that make up my day.
So here is my dinner-time report of a typical day last week...
8:15 Drop lunch things on desk and sign on to network. Launch usual programs - Outlook, a time tracking spreadsheet, and a word document with all my "to-do's" and reference information. I'd be lost without that document.
Clear out action items finished yesterday, check calendar (groan!), and skim emails for anything burning. I like to keep my inbox down to one page, everything else gets deleted, answered and deleted, or added to my to-do list and filed or deleted.
8:30 Weekly one-on-one with one of my direct reports. Quick check-in, things going OK. Finish early.
8:50 Manage to get hold of member of staff to verify what an expense claim covers (system descriptions not very descriptive) and what is still left to pay.
9:00 Meeting with five members of staff to discuss exchange of knowledge on how to maintain part of one of our systems. They've already got things rolling. Good. Way more "can-do" and initiative now than when I first joined the department.
9:25 Director collars me and one of my team leads looking for some information on another application. Needed urgently for a business case going into the new technology planning process for next fiscal.
9:30 Weekly progress meeting on a development project to replace an obsolete module that refused to port to Windows 2003. Verified everything ready for a demo to the business owners this afternoon.
10:00 Gap before next meeting. Clear off the emails that keep magically appearing.
Crap. Server issues affecting another one of our applications. The team is stretched trying to keep production services running, and an aggressive project manager is still badgering them about some testing due to be completed today. Get real! I need to step in for a manager-to-manager chat about priorities. Few trips backwards and forwards through the building to calm nerves, discuss business pressures and priorities, and get a true sense of the issues and possibilities. With contractual obligations hanging over us, the business owner is seriously thinking about putting this testing ahead of production. That is unheard of; he must be nervous. It's his call at the end of the day, but I need to make darned sure he has good information to base a decision on. The team at my end also need clear direction and reassurance that I'm ready to back them up and keep the shit off their backs. Compose a quick email to summarise the conclusions clearly, and then speak to the director in Hosting to escalate the issue.
11:00 Weekly one-on-one with another direct report. All calm there too.
11:30 Meeting with a Security manager to discuss internet blocking policy.
12:00 Another email blitz. Wow! Some good news about a member of staff who's been battling cancer and might be getting ready to return to work. It's nice to hear good tidings once in a while.
Server issues still not fixed, but business owner seems reconciled to the testing being held up.
12:15 Update performance and development plan. Work goals still relevant. Career goals...entirely irrelevant while we're all in siege mode trying to survive on a shoestring.
12:30 Breathing space to get back to those emails that I've not had a chance to deal with properly yet. Yes, I do have a system, but some things need a bit more time to handle than others and it's amazing how quickly things can get out of control. Clear out all the older versions of running email conversations. Delete anything that I missed first time around. Read the rest carefully to make sure there's not an action item buried in there. Don't want to drop anything.
12:50 Try to track down my director to check in on a few things. Saw she's had some information from the team but want to make sure she's got what she needs for the planning meeting. Also not yet had a chance to brief her on the service issues (still outstanding).
1:05 Eat lunch while reading a redrafted business case. Morphed from a relatively simple replacement proposal into a transformational service management strategy. Nicely worded, clear story. Well done. Note of appreciation to the authors.
1:50 Go down to the presentation room to help prepare for the demonstration. Mild heart attack. The room is full of other people and they look like they're settled in for a long spell! Double check room booking. Yes, officially we're still on. Start sweating as 2:00 approaches, my team and business users gather outside the door, and the squatters seem no closer to finishing.
2:00 Mild heart attack.
2:00:30 Room empties. We enter. Presentation goes well and we finish early.
2:50 Meet with manager colleague to discuss agenda items for an all-staff meeting scheduled next week. Director supposed to be there but warned me she might not make it. We reckon there are some big-ticket items that will be on people's minds so build the agenda around those.
3:30 Back to email hell.
3:40 Mentally shift gears again. Gather together preparation notes for interview we need to conduct next week.
4:00 Meeting with other member of interview panel to discuss key selection criteria and suitable questions. Director still tied up in planning meeting, and it's her competition. We reckon we've got a good set of questions now, but will need to discuss weightings and scoring next week.
4:40 Final tidy up. Check no loose ends and nothing critical left outstanding.
There's a year's worth of stuff on my to-do list that I may never get around to doing. In this overstretched and understaffed world prioritisation is the name of the game. We are all living under the tyranny of the immediate. If I can get through the day finishing the things I'd earmarked for today then I'm happy. If I knock off an item from tomorrow's list ahead of time, well, that's a bonus.
4:50 Shut down PC and head for home.
So, how would you convey any of that at the family dinner table?
Thursday, September 9, 2010
(2005) Confusion rules!
September 2005
Dear Aunt Agatha,
It is wonderful to see a regular pay cheque going into the bank account again after all those months, but - man! - what I'm having to do to earn it! It's such a huge adjustment after my previous work experiences, on so many fronts.
First of all, the organisation itself is vast compared to what I'm used to. This is only my third employer (not counting fill-in jobs here & there), but the previous two were at least sizeable by Guernsey standards. Guernsey Electricity at 250, and Barings at 500. Both were part of larger organisations, one belonging to the public service and the other a company within the ginormous ING Group, but those wider organisations barely made themselves felt. A memo here and there, an intellectual awareness of the parent organisation, but very little practical impact on day-to-day life.
Here, I'm in a division, 500-strong, which is just a small part of a ministry, just one of many in the BC Public Service. And I can feel the weight of the org structure above and around me.
To compound matters, the organisational detail is way more granular. Both Guernsey Electricity and Barings had a relatively small number of departments and I knew the function of each of them. I could go to (for example) any one of maybe 20 people in the custody department and ask a question, and get a consistent answer. They worked as a coherent and robust team. Here, there is so much specialisation that the number of distinct functions is vastly greater for the same number of people. Often there is only one person in the whole organisation with a particular set of knowledge. I keep asking about things, and instead of being told "you need to speak to someone in department X", I get "you need to speak to Joe Bloggs." And if Joe Bloggs isn't there, hard luck! I've spent ages trying to map out the working relationships of the many individuals I need to deal with, and just listing out the departments is mind-boggling.
My head is spinning trying to take it all in.
Then there is the process - and/or lack of it. On the one hand, we know that Canadians love their paperwork. We'd heard about that any number of times during the immigration process, and we've seen it in action since.
My first few days at work were largely spent alone at my desk ploughing through a two-inch stack of forms.
I jest not!
And yet, bizarrely enough, I've also found an astonishing lack of standards and processes that I've taken for granted for so many years. I'm losing count of how many times I've asked "how do I do X?" and then spent a merry few hours like an amateur sleuth tracking down the answer. Because nobody really knows for sure, and you can be sure it's not written down anywhere in a readily accessible way. And every department will have evolved their own unique way of doing things, so any advice you get may not hold true for your own situation.
Even something as simple as an up-to-date org chart, an invaluable atlas for a newcomer, is not available. Not, at least, for the use of us hoi polloi.
This, I've discovered, is where it really pays to make friends with a good admin assistant. They usually know the answer, or where to start looking for it.
Finally, there are the many cultural differences to cope with. I suppose we've been relatively insulated from it so far. Yes, we've dealt with all sorts of new things these past few months, but they have all been individual instances and short-lived. Now I'm fully immersed in it throughout the day. The biggest and most widespread difference I've found is that people are a lot more open and forthright than I'm used to. If someone doesn't like something, they'll say so. None of the British reserve here! I've seen personal dislikes coming up in meetings, sniping, bullying, and I've heard many anecdotes of outright shouting matches, tears, and door-slamming. Maybe I've not experienced a wide enough sample of British workplaces, but in the settings I do know, behaviours like that would have been almost impossible to imagine. I've come to the realisation that diplomacy and people-management is going to be a much larger part of my job than anything remotely technical.
But, as I keep reminding myself, I'm happy to put up with a lot for the benefits it brings us.
Dear Aunt Agatha,
It is wonderful to see a regular pay cheque going into the bank account again after all those months, but - man! - what I'm having to do to earn it! It's such a huge adjustment after my previous work experiences, on so many fronts.
First of all, the organisation itself is vast compared to what I'm used to. This is only my third employer (not counting fill-in jobs here & there), but the previous two were at least sizeable by Guernsey standards. Guernsey Electricity at 250, and Barings at 500. Both were part of larger organisations, one belonging to the public service and the other a company within the ginormous ING Group, but those wider organisations barely made themselves felt. A memo here and there, an intellectual awareness of the parent organisation, but very little practical impact on day-to-day life.
Here, I'm in a division, 500-strong, which is just a small part of a ministry, just one of many in the BC Public Service. And I can feel the weight of the org structure above and around me.
To compound matters, the organisational detail is way more granular. Both Guernsey Electricity and Barings had a relatively small number of departments and I knew the function of each of them. I could go to (for example) any one of maybe 20 people in the custody department and ask a question, and get a consistent answer. They worked as a coherent and robust team. Here, there is so much specialisation that the number of distinct functions is vastly greater for the same number of people. Often there is only one person in the whole organisation with a particular set of knowledge. I keep asking about things, and instead of being told "you need to speak to someone in department X", I get "you need to speak to Joe Bloggs." And if Joe Bloggs isn't there, hard luck! I've spent ages trying to map out the working relationships of the many individuals I need to deal with, and just listing out the departments is mind-boggling.
My head is spinning trying to take it all in.
Then there is the process - and/or lack of it. On the one hand, we know that Canadians love their paperwork. We'd heard about that any number of times during the immigration process, and we've seen it in action since.
My first few days at work were largely spent alone at my desk ploughing through a two-inch stack of forms.
I jest not!
And yet, bizarrely enough, I've also found an astonishing lack of standards and processes that I've taken for granted for so many years. I'm losing count of how many times I've asked "how do I do X?" and then spent a merry few hours like an amateur sleuth tracking down the answer. Because nobody really knows for sure, and you can be sure it's not written down anywhere in a readily accessible way. And every department will have evolved their own unique way of doing things, so any advice you get may not hold true for your own situation.
Even something as simple as an up-to-date org chart, an invaluable atlas for a newcomer, is not available. Not, at least, for the use of us hoi polloi.
This, I've discovered, is where it really pays to make friends with a good admin assistant. They usually know the answer, or where to start looking for it.
Finally, there are the many cultural differences to cope with. I suppose we've been relatively insulated from it so far. Yes, we've dealt with all sorts of new things these past few months, but they have all been individual instances and short-lived. Now I'm fully immersed in it throughout the day. The biggest and most widespread difference I've found is that people are a lot more open and forthright than I'm used to. If someone doesn't like something, they'll say so. None of the British reserve here! I've seen personal dislikes coming up in meetings, sniping, bullying, and I've heard many anecdotes of outright shouting matches, tears, and door-slamming. Maybe I've not experienced a wide enough sample of British workplaces, but in the settings I do know, behaviours like that would have been almost impossible to imagine. I've come to the realisation that diplomacy and people-management is going to be a much larger part of my job than anything remotely technical.
But, as I keep reminding myself, I'm happy to put up with a lot for the benefits it brings us.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Unsung heroes
One of the comments on my previous post included some kind-hearted good wishes for the job search, and also some observations on the stigma attached to working in government.
Firstly, I can reassure you that the job search is long over. The Dear Aunt Agatha label is a flashback to five years ago, starting from when we landed in Canada. The distant relative and the letters are fictional, but the events themselves are drawn from my journals at that time and are an attempt to recapture our family experiences as new immigrants.
Of course, five years on, we are still a long way from shaking off the label of "newcomers".
But the other bit got me thinking (dangerous!) and it is true. There seems to be a worldwide stereotype of government workers as being lazy, incompetent, and set up for life.
Now, there are undoubtably examples to prove the rule, but my experience in my own corner of government is very different. I am but one tiny voice in a howling wilderness, but seeing as this is Public Service Week here in BC I cannot let the myths go unchallenged.
Job security first: having seen the effects of "workforce adjustment" over the last year let's put a dose of reality around this one.
Part one is easy: non-unionised management are no more secure than anyone in the private sector. Screw up...you're out. No longer needed...you're out. So if you rise in the ranks you can forget about security.
Part two: the union does try to look after the security of its members, but that has some unfortunate consequences. At the end of the day, if your position is redundant then somebody has to go. They'll do their best to find you somewhere else, i.e. a vacant position, but if you have seniority then you might end up displacing someone more junior. So in net terms, there is no more job security across the workforce as a whole than anywhere else. What happens is that the security is concentrated in the hands of the more long-term staff, and all the uncertainty is most cruelly heaped on the newcomers. This year we had people in an agony of suspense for months, knowing that their hold on their position was at risk and waiting to see how the dice would land.
As for "lazy", I have to laugh. I don't think I've ever worked with a harder-working group of people.
Before going any further, I should explain my stance on the term "lazy" to avoid misunderstanding. I suspect that many people, especially those who find themselves driven to work long evenings and weekends, will happily dismiss anyone not regularly turning in a 60+ hour week as lazy.
IMHO laziness has nothing to do with how many hours you clock on the job. It is about what you do with those hours. My own view is that regularly working insane hours is a sign of poor management, not something to be proud of, unless you've made a deliberate and informed choice to live your life that way.
Out here on the West coast, people generally have a deep respect for work/life balance. I don't think it is at all lazy to set boundaries around how much of your life work is allowed to encroach on, in order to leave time for...well...life.
But while you are at work, you are there to work and be productive.
My organisation runs the BC Provincial IT network. Lots of people rely on this network for things like 911 dispatch, getting welfare cheques, bringing criminal cases to trial, setting up emergency fire control centres during the fire season...lots of real-world health & welfare or life & limb dependencies.
In my building, people slog their guts out to keep things running. We've been crippled by cutbacks over the last year but none of the work has gone away. Everywhere I look people are busy. I often come home with my head spinning from all the conflicting tugs on my time and attention because we all have too much to do and too few people to do it.
I could tell you how much the staff here understand the importance of their work, and how dedicated they are. Instead I'll show you through a real story from 2008.
Just as Canada was sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, the power went out across the whole of southern Vancouver Island. It came back an hour or so later. No big deal, our datacentre has backup power and loads of protection devices.
Nevertheless I went to check for emails just in case, and quickly realised that things were not rosy. I eventually managed to get through to the security desk and learned that the whole network was down. I realised there was nothing I could do to help right then; my world is in the applications layer and none of that can begin to work until it has a network to run on. But dozens of staff had already abandoned their families and their dinners and checked in, not even waiting to be called, and starting putting the network back together.
They worked through the night and on through the following day (which was a public holiday) to bring everything back online. One of my own team answered a call at 2am to restore one of our application services critical to the IT business. And everyone was back in the office the following day for their normal shift.
These are not lazy people.
Firstly, I can reassure you that the job search is long over. The Dear Aunt Agatha label is a flashback to five years ago, starting from when we landed in Canada. The distant relative and the letters are fictional, but the events themselves are drawn from my journals at that time and are an attempt to recapture our family experiences as new immigrants.
Of course, five years on, we are still a long way from shaking off the label of "newcomers".
But the other bit got me thinking (dangerous!) and it is true. There seems to be a worldwide stereotype of government workers as being lazy, incompetent, and set up for life.
Now, there are undoubtably examples to prove the rule, but my experience in my own corner of government is very different. I am but one tiny voice in a howling wilderness, but seeing as this is Public Service Week here in BC I cannot let the myths go unchallenged.
Job security first: having seen the effects of "workforce adjustment" over the last year let's put a dose of reality around this one.
Part one is easy: non-unionised management are no more secure than anyone in the private sector. Screw up...you're out. No longer needed...you're out. So if you rise in the ranks you can forget about security.
Part two: the union does try to look after the security of its members, but that has some unfortunate consequences. At the end of the day, if your position is redundant then somebody has to go. They'll do their best to find you somewhere else, i.e. a vacant position, but if you have seniority then you might end up displacing someone more junior. So in net terms, there is no more job security across the workforce as a whole than anywhere else. What happens is that the security is concentrated in the hands of the more long-term staff, and all the uncertainty is most cruelly heaped on the newcomers. This year we had people in an agony of suspense for months, knowing that their hold on their position was at risk and waiting to see how the dice would land.
As for "lazy", I have to laugh. I don't think I've ever worked with a harder-working group of people.
Before going any further, I should explain my stance on the term "lazy" to avoid misunderstanding. I suspect that many people, especially those who find themselves driven to work long evenings and weekends, will happily dismiss anyone not regularly turning in a 60+ hour week as lazy.
IMHO laziness has nothing to do with how many hours you clock on the job. It is about what you do with those hours. My own view is that regularly working insane hours is a sign of poor management, not something to be proud of, unless you've made a deliberate and informed choice to live your life that way.
Out here on the West coast, people generally have a deep respect for work/life balance. I don't think it is at all lazy to set boundaries around how much of your life work is allowed to encroach on, in order to leave time for...well...life.
But while you are at work, you are there to work and be productive.
My organisation runs the BC Provincial IT network. Lots of people rely on this network for things like 911 dispatch, getting welfare cheques, bringing criminal cases to trial, setting up emergency fire control centres during the fire season...lots of real-world health & welfare or life & limb dependencies.
In my building, people slog their guts out to keep things running. We've been crippled by cutbacks over the last year but none of the work has gone away. Everywhere I look people are busy. I often come home with my head spinning from all the conflicting tugs on my time and attention because we all have too much to do and too few people to do it.
I could tell you how much the staff here understand the importance of their work, and how dedicated they are. Instead I'll show you through a real story from 2008.
Just as Canada was sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, the power went out across the whole of southern Vancouver Island. It came back an hour or so later. No big deal, our datacentre has backup power and loads of protection devices.
Nevertheless I went to check for emails just in case, and quickly realised that things were not rosy. I eventually managed to get through to the security desk and learned that the whole network was down. I realised there was nothing I could do to help right then; my world is in the applications layer and none of that can begin to work until it has a network to run on. But dozens of staff had already abandoned their families and their dinners and checked in, not even waiting to be called, and starting putting the network back together.
They worked through the night and on through the following day (which was a public holiday) to bring everything back online. One of my own team answered a call at 2am to restore one of our application services critical to the IT business. And everyone was back in the office the following day for their normal shift.
These are not lazy people.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Yawn...need...sleep...
It feels like my feet haven't touched the ground in the last week.
Magic is still settling in. Not too keen on the name myself, but that was the children's choice. She is still quite skittish and selective about when she can be approached. We are keeping her shut in our room for now, until she is settled enough to be introduced to the rest of the menagerie. She definitely doesn't like being approached while she is on the floor, but is happier on our bed and comes over for cuddles more and more often.
She kept us awake the first couple of nights, jumping up, jumping down, exploring, playing with some of the toys we've put out for her...luckily she seems to be getting over that now.
This week at work has been even more hectic than usual, so many demands on my time that I'm barely keeping my nose above water. In fact this past year or so feels like I've been sprinting a marathon, and it doesn't look likely to improve any time soon. The one thing that keeps me sane is being utterly ruthless about closing the door on it when I leave the office and not being tied to a phone or *shudder* a BlackBerry.
Not that home is any less hectic, of course. To the list of extra-curricular activities we have now added music lessons for Matthew. He's having a go at the clarinet. Just a few lessons to start, to see how he gets on, but he impressed everyone by getting a note out of the instrument on the first attempt, and he is picking up techniques that his teacher says many more advanced students struggle with. And he enjoys it, which is kinda important.
And I am glad to be back on my bike again after a couple of weeks hiatus around Easter. That one-hour cycle is valuable "down time" for me.
And finally, sucker for punishment, after taking feedback from "Miss Snark's First Victim" Secret Agent contest back in February, I tuned the first page of Ghosts of Innocence a bit and sent it in to Ray Rhamey's "Flogging The Quill". After a few weeks in the queue it was posted today. Some mixed comments from readers to take on board, but I was pleased that Ray himself voted to turn the page and continue reading.
Magic is still settling in. Not too keen on the name myself, but that was the children's choice. She is still quite skittish and selective about when she can be approached. We are keeping her shut in our room for now, until she is settled enough to be introduced to the rest of the menagerie. She definitely doesn't like being approached while she is on the floor, but is happier on our bed and comes over for cuddles more and more often.
She kept us awake the first couple of nights, jumping up, jumping down, exploring, playing with some of the toys we've put out for her...luckily she seems to be getting over that now.
This week at work has been even more hectic than usual, so many demands on my time that I'm barely keeping my nose above water. In fact this past year or so feels like I've been sprinting a marathon, and it doesn't look likely to improve any time soon. The one thing that keeps me sane is being utterly ruthless about closing the door on it when I leave the office and not being tied to a phone or *shudder* a BlackBerry.
Not that home is any less hectic, of course. To the list of extra-curricular activities we have now added music lessons for Matthew. He's having a go at the clarinet. Just a few lessons to start, to see how he gets on, but he impressed everyone by getting a note out of the instrument on the first attempt, and he is picking up techniques that his teacher says many more advanced students struggle with. And he enjoys it, which is kinda important.
And I am glad to be back on my bike again after a couple of weeks hiatus around Easter. That one-hour cycle is valuable "down time" for me.
And finally, sucker for punishment, after taking feedback from "Miss Snark's First Victim" Secret Agent contest back in February, I tuned the first page of Ghosts of Innocence a bit and sent it in to Ray Rhamey's "Flogging The Quill". After a few weeks in the queue it was posted today. Some mixed comments from readers to take on board, but I was pleased that Ray himself voted to turn the page and continue reading.
Friday, February 26, 2010
The five P's
With a new fiscal year looming, it is Planning Season at work. Not that we have much to plan with. No money to do anything but essential operations, and big organisational changes being concocted largely behind closed doors at the executive level that will probably derail anything we might consider doing.
But we must try, if for no other reason than to get our unit into the best possible shape to take whatever merde drops on us over the next few months.
So we are building next year's operational plan using a framework to capture goals for different aspects of our work. Under the "process" heading, my director chose to use "the five P's" as guiding principles for building branch-wide processes.
Many years ago, I developed "the five P's" as a yardstick to help me decide when something could truly call itself a standard. I've used this for software development standards, but I guess the same principles could apply anywhere where people are trying to regulate their own or other people's activities.
These are what I am looking for in a standard ...
It should be ...
Purposeful
This is a biggie for me. And helps explain a contradiction in me. I hate over-regulation, and yet I am an avid fan of professional standards. My maxim is "no rules without reasons".
Trouble is, once you start down on the standards road it is difficult to know where to stop. Ever-increasing control takes over and becomes an end in itself. I've seen standards manuals where everything is rigidly set out in minute detail, and everybody sweats blood to conform, but nobody can begin to explain why.
And for all you conformity nazis out there, "consistency" is not a valid purpose, not in itself, even though it is often cited as a reason for setting standards. Ask yourself why consistency is a good thing in this instance. For example, layout standards might help you quickly orient yourself in an unfamiliar piece of code, or variable naming standards might allow you to make some safe assumptions about a variable's characteristics when you see it, without having to track down every reference to it first. Those are perfectly good purposes, but make sure they exist and that you understand them.
If everyone out there understands why a standard is there, and can see benefits in it, then they are more likely to apply it.
And, finally, understanding the purpose allows you to recognise when it is out of date, or when it is in need of updating and how to do so safely without losing sight of the original purpose.
Practical
Should really need no explanation. If it is not practical to use, then it won't happen!
And, remember, standards are supposed to be there to serve you, not the other way around. The best ones are those that make life easier rather than harder.
And the very best are those that are an integral part of your working methods rather than an add-on. For example, if your standard is to use a source code repository and a change process that specifies how & when code should be booked out and in, then what better than to integrate that into your development desktop so that the correct standards are applied automatically as you go about your work?
Published
So, the first two points were probably fairly obvious, if not always practised. Now we are getting into more subtle areas.
To me, a standard cannot call itself a standard until it is documented. Until then, it is simply a convention or a common working practice.
If it isn't recorded, then how can it be communicated? How do you know everyone has the same understanding of it? How can you be sure that it is being applied correctly and consistently?
But simply writing it down somewhere is not quite enough. By "published" I mean documented somewhere accessible so that everyone can get at it.
Promoted
It's one thing to write down a standard, even somewhere accessible, but what good is that if no-one knows it's there? The next step is to make sure the right people know about it, and understand it, and remember it.
In other words, you need to promote it.
And, most importantly, people need to know that you are serious about this, which leads nicely into the home straight ...
Policed
OK, you've got a good standard, it has purpose and it's practical. You've written it down somewhere public, and everyone knows about it.
Are we there yet?
Not quite. It is still no good unless people actually use it. And the only way to determine that is to police it. Somehow.
Now, I don't necessarily mean that you literally need to have someone watching over people to make sure they do the right thing, and to pick up on infractions. You can do, of course, and in some cases that may be the right thing to do, but not always.
What you should do is decide how to make sure your standard is properly applied rather than just leaving it to chance.
Often, simple peer pressure is enough, especially if the working environment is collaborative. And if you've done a good job of making sensible and practical standards that the whole team buys in to and can see the benefits of, they will soon spot and correct problems.
Or you can take the more formal approach, for example by explicitly including standards checks into your QA process.
But, as with practicality, the "gold standard" to look for are those standards that are an integral part of normal working practice. In other words, you do it the right way because that is also the easiest way.
So many people see standards as constraints, as obstacles. I think that is usually because they've had a bad experience with the standards zealots.
But we must try, if for no other reason than to get our unit into the best possible shape to take whatever merde drops on us over the next few months.
So we are building next year's operational plan using a framework to capture goals for different aspects of our work. Under the "process" heading, my director chose to use "the five P's" as guiding principles for building branch-wide processes.
Many years ago, I developed "the five P's" as a yardstick to help me decide when something could truly call itself a standard. I've used this for software development standards, but I guess the same principles could apply anywhere where people are trying to regulate their own or other people's activities.
These are what I am looking for in a standard ...
It should be ...
Purposeful
This is a biggie for me. And helps explain a contradiction in me. I hate over-regulation, and yet I am an avid fan of professional standards. My maxim is "no rules without reasons".
Trouble is, once you start down on the standards road it is difficult to know where to stop. Ever-increasing control takes over and becomes an end in itself. I've seen standards manuals where everything is rigidly set out in minute detail, and everybody sweats blood to conform, but nobody can begin to explain why.
And for all you conformity nazis out there, "consistency" is not a valid purpose, not in itself, even though it is often cited as a reason for setting standards. Ask yourself why consistency is a good thing in this instance. For example, layout standards might help you quickly orient yourself in an unfamiliar piece of code, or variable naming standards might allow you to make some safe assumptions about a variable's characteristics when you see it, without having to track down every reference to it first. Those are perfectly good purposes, but make sure they exist and that you understand them.
If everyone out there understands why a standard is there, and can see benefits in it, then they are more likely to apply it.
And, finally, understanding the purpose allows you to recognise when it is out of date, or when it is in need of updating and how to do so safely without losing sight of the original purpose.
Practical
Should really need no explanation. If it is not practical to use, then it won't happen!
And, remember, standards are supposed to be there to serve you, not the other way around. The best ones are those that make life easier rather than harder.
And the very best are those that are an integral part of your working methods rather than an add-on. For example, if your standard is to use a source code repository and a change process that specifies how & when code should be booked out and in, then what better than to integrate that into your development desktop so that the correct standards are applied automatically as you go about your work?
Published
So, the first two points were probably fairly obvious, if not always practised. Now we are getting into more subtle areas.
To me, a standard cannot call itself a standard until it is documented. Until then, it is simply a convention or a common working practice.
If it isn't recorded, then how can it be communicated? How do you know everyone has the same understanding of it? How can you be sure that it is being applied correctly and consistently?
But simply writing it down somewhere is not quite enough. By "published" I mean documented somewhere accessible so that everyone can get at it.
Promoted
It's one thing to write down a standard, even somewhere accessible, but what good is that if no-one knows it's there? The next step is to make sure the right people know about it, and understand it, and remember it.
In other words, you need to promote it.
And, most importantly, people need to know that you are serious about this, which leads nicely into the home straight ...
Policed
OK, you've got a good standard, it has purpose and it's practical. You've written it down somewhere public, and everyone knows about it.
Are we there yet?
Not quite. It is still no good unless people actually use it. And the only way to determine that is to police it. Somehow.
Now, I don't necessarily mean that you literally need to have someone watching over people to make sure they do the right thing, and to pick up on infractions. You can do, of course, and in some cases that may be the right thing to do, but not always.
What you should do is decide how to make sure your standard is properly applied rather than just leaving it to chance.
Often, simple peer pressure is enough, especially if the working environment is collaborative. And if you've done a good job of making sensible and practical standards that the whole team buys in to and can see the benefits of, they will soon spot and correct problems.
Or you can take the more formal approach, for example by explicitly including standards checks into your QA process.
But, as with practicality, the "gold standard" to look for are those standards that are an integral part of normal working practice. In other words, you do it the right way because that is also the easiest way.
So many people see standards as constraints, as obstacles. I think that is usually because they've had a bad experience with the standards zealots.
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