There’s an overlooked power tool right in front of us. Every individual and organization can use it well, but rarely does. I could write a book on this, but here’s the post instead:
Synchronized work happens together, on a shared schedule, in real time.
Asynchronized work (my spellchecker says this isn’t a real word) happens on our schedule.
Phone calls are sync. Texts are async.
Network TV was sync. Youtube and Netflix are async.
Writing a screenplay is async. Making a movie from that screenplay is sync. Going to opening night is sync, watching it two months later online is async.
Writing a book is async. Publishing a book is sync. Reading it is async.
A staff meeting is sync. A memo is async.
Commercial air travel is sync. A private jet is async.
Each offers costs and advantages.
When I go to a live concert, it’s happening. For me, for the audience, for the act. If any of us is having a bad day, it detracts from the experience. But when it’s right and it’s real, magic ensues. It’s largely unrelated from the experience of listening to the same song streamed (async) or on the radio (a blend of the two).
I imagine that your energy levels and mood fluctuate during the day. When working on async projects, the smart path is to match your internal energy with the work to be done. Write blog posts when you’re on a post-swim high, pay bills when all you can manage is clerical work.
Organizations that don’t account for the cost of sync-meetings waste not just billions of dollars but the insight and energy of the people who might be able to contribute if the timing and approach were different.
Sync has three advantages:
But it has costs and risks:
The implications are everywhere we look, and the status quo works to maintain its sync or async status.
Media companies that are in love with whatever sync/async built their organization often flounder when the media consumption axis flips. The only reason Amazon and Netflix exist is that their sync predecessors couldn’t figure out how to deal with an async relationship with the customer. And now that Netflix has a huge advantage, they’re timid about shifting some of the content to a sync model that would create more buzz… and Amazon has failed to capture the real-time shopping experience that’s so common online in China.
When we were forced to work from home six years ago, offices freaked out. Some embraced the async magic it offered, while many bosses were at a loss on how to manage people they couldn’t see in real time.
One reason is that employees had been indoctrinated in the idea that work was what you did when someone was watching. If you were ‘working’ from home, it was okay to also do errands and a workout, because without a hall monitor, you were off the clock.
On the other hand, some used the freedom the way a productive writer does. Without the distractions of real-time sync, there was plenty of time to get some actual work done.
Once you see it, all sorts of new insights come to mind:
The handoffs. Much of the leverage and the friction in our modern world lives at the points where work switches modes. A deadline, for example, is a sync point imposed on async work.
Who owns the clock? Sync is more than a scheduling choice, it’s also a display of power. The person who calls the meeting has already decided to spend everyone else’s time. Bosses call meetings; the employee sends a memo.
Async moves power from the coordinator to the creator.
Flips are opportunities. Why are college applications async, while job interviews are sync? Kickstarter turned product launches async, and Ted Turner turned news into something that broke.
Fake async. Over time, async creeps toward sync. It’s ironic that Slack messages, texts and email which succeeded because they were async, now create an expectation of real-time response. These are async tools used with sync expectations, so you get the interruptions of sync without its energy.
Name it. Protect your work style and the expectations for what you deliver. Organizations can be more mindful of the cost of sync, and creators can properly price their effort for each kind of work. There’s a reason it costs a million dollars to have Bob Dylan sing at your birthday party.
Sync creates cultural side effects. When everyone at the watercooler is talking about the same thing, cultural cohesion follows. When Netflix moved to binge viewing, they used their capital advantage to make it very hard for others to keep up by producing enough shows. But by sticking with this moat, they’ve diminished word of mouth. Far more people talked about Nathan Fielder’s movie during launch week than ever talked about his streaming show.
AI is currently async. An agent never needs a meeting and works at 3 a.m., so humans become the sync bottleneck. But as its power increases, expect AI to be a partner in most sync events.
Trust is built in sync and spent in async. Async works better between people who already know each other. New teams, new hires, and new customer relationships may need sync at first. The alternative is to build systems that are async by nature, enabling new participants to earn trust in powerful new ways. Online reputation systems and thoughtful online communities are getting better at this.
Here are three simple axioms to start the process with:
Futility: It might feel like it doesn’t matter.
Fear: Of choosing wrong, or doing it wrong.
Responsibility: It isn’t given, it’s taken. Which is why so many leave it on the table.
Possibility: Showing up to have your say could change things for the better.
Identity: This is what people like us do, it’s part of being in this community.
Defiance: Some would rather you stay home. Your vote is a limit on their plans.
Gratitude: For the people who came before, and for the ones who never had the chance.
Dignity: Because for a moment, everyone ought to have the same impact.
Solidarity: Standing with the others when they choose to stand with us.
Hope: This may be our best chance to make things better.
That’s a lot to dance with from one single action. I think it’s worth it.
That changes everything. This is the spot, your spot, a spot worth protecting. Trees understand the power of the neighborhood and the value of good neighbors.
Trees can’t be anonymous, and they succeed by standing tall and sticking it out. Trees do better in a forest, surrounded by other trees.
And trees think in long time frames, because now keeps changing but later is the actual urgency.
Trees are mortal. And so generations are the actual long game. Fires and floods will come and go, but the seeds spread and flourish.
As humans, we often underestimate the gift of new decisions, new locations and the ability to quit and move on.
And just as often, we miss the chance to plant roots and stand for something.
HT to Lisa Gansky.
The reason we train is to get better.
Every successful product goes from version 1.0 to 2.0, eventually.
Very few people still drive a Model T.
It’s not perfect, not yet. But we ship the work because it’s on the way to the next step.
Perfect isn’t possible. Better always is.
The slogan is “when you care enough to send the very best.”
But more accurately, it’s “when you don’t care enough to be on the hook.”
For a low-stakes social interaction, the Hallmark card is a convenient and safe solution. Low-risk, it gets the job done. People don’t blame you for letting someone from Kansas say a nice thing on your behalf.
Now, it’s happening at scale. If you want to be left off the hook, AI is a convenient excuse. Do what it says. Ask it what to dress up as for this Halloween, or what to write in your marketing copy. Let it design your website or write your resume. Perhaps you could have it write your wedding vows as well.
Our culture prizes convenience ahead of just about everything else, and AI slop is convenient. It saves us time but it also saves us emotional labor.
The dilemma is obvious. Unlike a Hallmark card, AI is available to do just about everything. And when we’ve streamlined our life to a convenient nub of its former self, then what?
There’s a different path. Insist that AI ask you questions. Challenge it to challenge you.
Then choose. Sign your work.
AI isn’t the cause of slop, and it’s not a good excuse for slop either.
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