I’m fascinated by the working style of successful teams and individuals, specifically in the creative realm. I think that’s what’s been drawing me to diaries and biographies lately. I’m not expecting to find some key to unlocking creativity, but I have been collecting guidelines that I can cling to in the limitless expanse. One of the guidelines is the Buddhist principle about learning to let go, so I should probably throw my whole list into the river right now. But let me indulge myself for a moment instead. The problem is, I’m sick of feeling both overbooked and underlimited, so I’m looking for ways to either accomplish more with less, or more with the same, or simply less. Less means stabbing my ambition and letting it bleed a little, and I’m not ready to stick the knife in yet.
So I’m stuck hunting for design principles and working styles that can help me make sense of my work. I’m attracted to them because they’re about understanding the medium—any medium. They are solely about process, but they are not Life’s Little Instruction Book entries about having a solid handshake. So in a way they are constrained: they contain no subject and no emotion, no social etiquette. They’re not supposed to make you happy in life; they’re simply there to boost creatively productivity. They aren’t too general; they’re just general enough to be useful. We all find inspiration but apply it differently.
Archive for March, 2005
how we work
Monday, March 14th, 2005Blink
Thursday, March 10th, 2005Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink is about split-second decision making. Specifically, it’s about having loads of experience to draw from when making split-second decisions. It’s a roller-coaster ride—a fast read that hurls armchairs of psychology at you that are surprising enough to make you want to stand up and tell someone what you just read. Gladwell takes us through food tasting labs and military exercises and murder cases and lie detectors and improv comedy and numerous psych experiments that bring up a variety of questions about the workings of the subconscious. He shows us marriage councilors and car salesmen and art collectors whose success is based on the ability to make split-second decisions, or decisions about a split-second in time, by distilling their lifetime of experience quickly.
Gladwell also shows us places where quick judgments go wrong: novice cops, unable to handle their first high-pressure encounter smoothly, or politicians and businessmen who rise to power on dignified looks and stature alone, fooling everyone along the way. He shows us an ER where a finely-tuned and thoroughly researched decision tree, posted on the wall, replaces doctors’ judgment calls and improves the success rate in isolating heart attacks among patients with chest pain—traditionally very difficult to predict because it draws upon dozens of medical and emotional indicators.
There are many tangents on Gladwell’s path. The book feels like a series of New Yorker articles. But I like that about it—my easily distracted mind was fully engaged. My favorite chapter covers the Facial Action Coding System, an encyclopedia of facial expressions, photographed and numbered, by psychologists Paul Ekman and Silvan Tomkins. The FACS provides a vocabulary for the most common facial expressions, and once you have enough experience with it, you can improve your interpretation of facial expressions. Gladwell is quick to point out that we already interpret facial expressions continuously, subconsciously, but that we’re not always able to tap into our interpretation directly, so our detection of someone lying, for example, might bubble up to the conscious brain in the form of a vague feeling of discomfort or fear. Ekman and Tomkins can see things more clearly, though, because they’ve built a vocabulary and spent years studying and making faces.
That’s the real point here: The best art historians may be able to spot a fake from across the room, the best cops can quickly and accurately size up a tough situation, and the best food tasters can taste the difference between Oreo cookies that came from two different batches, but none of this is possible without vast experience placed in a well-developed context. So don’t expect to start mind-reading tomorrow.
This is Gladwell’s second book after The Tipping Point, and while I don’t think it’s quite as powerful in its conclusions, it’s still a lot of fun.