For generations, the rules of Lego were simple: many pieces, all able to connect in many ways, led to many outcomes.
That almost drove the company into bankruptcy, though.
Lego kits saved the business. Each kit has just one way to do the work, follow the instructions carefully. Industrial indoctrination in a box.
While it made Lego plenty of money, it didn’t create a generation of creative thinkers. And following instructions is what most organizations want.
Now that robots and AI are here to follow instructions, though, we might need people who can draw plans, not simply follow them.
Built into the concept of “interesting” is the unexplored. The temptation of discovery and the new.
And so, by definition, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, it’s likely that there is something more interesting somewhere else. The people at the next table may be talking about something more fascinating than your date is… the only way to know is to listen in.
Part of the curse of the smartphone is that it brings the more-interesting chasm right into our hands. Being present and focused now takes Herculean effort.
As long as we choose to imagine it, the apparent insufficiency of here and now will be with us. Sometimes it even comes knocking.
Nailing it in the first take is a sign of preparation and professionalism. No need for two tries if you are clear about what you’re doing and how.
The next take is where hope lies. This one was pretty good, but next time, we’ll bring it.
And the last take is good enough. That’s why there are no more takes after that.
One of the best traditional bakeries in New York has a kitchen you can see from the counter. People wait in line for their handmade French baguettes, and the confirmation that they were made right here and right now is reassuring.
I noticed that the baker was using a mechanical gadget called a loader. It allows her to place and shape six baguette onto a board, and load them into the oven all at once.
It’s hard to imagine anyone being disappointed by this. It’s still the same loaf, still handmade, but like the electric mixer they use to knead the dough, it seems to be part of the authentic process, not an industrial one.
The challenge is in what happens next…
Mechanized scale brings productivity and certainty, but it also brings huge short-run rewards for cutting corners. Save a penny a loaf with a handmade product and it’s not big deal. Save a penny a loaf when you make 10,000 a day and it begins to add up to real money. So it pays to add a bit of stabilizer, change to a more reliable oven temperature and switch to a cheaper flour…
This is what people who care about quality are actually fretting about. It’s not the scale. It’s the shortcuts that sometimes come with it.
Quality, by definition, is meeting spec. If you don’t like the spec, make the spec better.
We can have scale and consistency and quality. But we can’t have all three at the same time when we race (or are pushed) to the bottom.
Bit by bit, we either make things better or we make them worse.
Compared to what?
98% of the time, the state champ loses at nationals.
Every billionaire but one isn’t the richest person in the world. Only one of the 300 people who direct a feature film each year will win an Academy Award.
And only one public company has the greatest share price growth.
Competition is often a useful source for fuel. In our scarcity-driven world, looking for external metrics might be a productive way to focus our energy or gather resources.
But it’s also a trap.
A trap that seduces us into accepting someone else’s priorities.
A trap that causes us to forget what got us here and to ignore our good fortune.
And a trap that takes us out of this moment as it pushes us to imagine another one, less likely, in the future.
When we’re captured by the death spiral of scarcity and dominance, we’re signing up for a journey that’s all about the destination, a destination we’re quite unlikely to reach.
Consider what made this worth doing in the first place. Why isn’t that enough?
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