The Mess

Making magic from mess.

Category: Opinions

Opinion pieces on world events, and tech news, hopefully somewhat related to The Mess NZ.

  • Potentially pointless

    “You have so much potential. I hope you don’t waste it.”

    Dad, that’s not what I needed to hear. I needed you to ask “what piece is that? I really like it.” Or perhaps “Your playing is really improving, I enjoy listening to it.” Now my playing is tainted with a need to succeed, to reach some height, some purpose – all of which I have no idea what they are.

    The fact that my piano playing was (and has to this day remained) a personal challenge, emotional expression, escapism, and has for the most part been kept to the ears of myself and my closest, should be enough. Shouldn’t it? Is it ok to play for the sake of playing, enjoy the sounds and feelings of the music, and the strange pseudo-spritual connection to the composer and their intent, taking over my thoughts and body? My soul says yes. My mind says “of course not you fool, so I’m just going to remind you of all your failures and self-professed short-comings while you play unless you’re either locking in and going to be a concert pianist, or you give up and go so something that will actually help us reach our potential”

    What even is potential?

    I’m a bit of an electronics/physics nerd. One way of visualising potential in electronics is imagining a hill or a valley. A ball is on the top of the hill, or the ledge of the valley. The potential energy this ball has available to give, is determined by the height of the hill relative to the “bottom”. The other way around, how much energy would it take to push the ball back up the hill?

    What does that have to do with me becoming a concert pianist to make my Dad not think I’m wasting my potential? Is that the target I have to reach? Is that the bar that’s been set for me? And how the heck did he know that’s my potential and I still don’t? Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe potential isn’t this thing that I should be.

    It’s Meaningless

    Potential is meaningless as a target.

    Potential fundamentally, and by definition, is NOT a target. It’s a capacity, a requirement, an amount of work that can or needs to be done, and can be used and expended.

    What happens when you use all of the electrical potential in a battery? It goes flat. If it’s non-rechargable you throw it in the bin. If it’s rechargable, you can recharge it, and it gains all this potential back, and it can roll down the hill again.

    What happens when the boulder is at the bottom of the hill? You need to push it up there again – if you want it to gleefully roll back down, for whatever reason. I don’t know. Was Sisyphus happy? Albert Camus certainly thought so with his conclusion “One must imaging Sisyphus happy.”

    Doesn’t life often feel like slogging away at rolling a boulder up a hill, a brief respite at the top then pushing it down the hill and watching all that momentum expend itself, then come to rest at the bottom?

    So what did Dad mean?

    I conject that my dear Dad wasn’t consciously aware of what he actually meant when saying he hoped I would reach/wouldn’t waste my potential. He certainly hadn’t read this definitive blog post on what potential actually is.

    What he may have been implying by saying I have “huge potential”, is that in his opinion I’m sitting on top of a very high hill. That I have a lot of energy to give to the world and holding onto it, not pushing that boulder down the hill, is wasted and perhaps (what it felt like to my 14 year old mind) selfish.

    At the time, sitting there playing music I thought I WAS using all my potential. What else could I be doing at that moment? It’s funny thinking about it now. In my little head back then I actually had the right answer! I was in the moment, I was doing what I could then and there, and that’s all that I ever could have been doing. So no wonder Dad coming in and saying that he didn’t want me to “waste potential” was confusing and frustrating to hear. It fundamentally didn’t make any sense.

    Results are not guaranteed

    It’s scientifically psychologically and physiologically testable that “action” only happens in humans when there is some “potential” – either positive or negative. Perhaps we have the promise of money, love, dopamine. Perhaps we have the threat of no money, loss, or a lion waiting to eat us.

    Potential is a slope, either up or down from where we are now, to the place that we need to – or better yet – know we’re going to be whether we like it or not. The steeper the slope, the greater the difference between now and this destination – in other words, the greater the potential, and the greater the likelihood and drive for action to take place.

    It seems to me the way to maximise potential, and maximise the likelihood for action (motivation), is make that slope steep somehow. How do we do this? Do we set ourself lofty goals and targets that are huge beyond our wildest dreams? Am I going to gain one million blog readers by the end of 2026? Be a concert pianist?

    NO! …. aww…

    The results, the outcome – any metric that is outside of your control to make certain – are not good motivators to get moving. The promise of results is not what is going to give you the potential to act, to do, to move. Why?

    A result that is not met doesn’t exist!

    They are phantoms. They are intangible. Results and outcomes may be useful for assessing the work you’ve already done, perhaps learning for future attempts, but they are NO good to make you do the work.

    “Aha!” You may say. “My boss says if I don’t meet these targets, then I’m in trouble, ergo I work hard to meet them.”

    Yes – subtle difference. Is it the result making you motivated? Imagine if you had those targets but your boss said “Hey, if you don’t meet these targets that’s all good, no stress at all, doesn’t mean anything” – do you think you’d put in the same energy? The contrarians of you out there may say “YEAH I WOULD BECAUSE I’M NOT A SLACKER” but even that proves my next point.

    Maximise your potential

    If you want a surefire way to maximise your potential – stay focussed this is subtle – don’t give yourself a goal or a target to reach but instead:

    Give yourself a responsibility and/or a deadline.

    The responsibility could be external. Being accountable to someone else is extremely motivating as it taps into our social animal and our sense of duty and purpose in society.

    It could be totally internal. An example? Me writing this, right now. Why am I doing this? Am I doing this because I’ve got a target of engagement I want to meet? My million readers by the end of the year? No way. I’m doing this because:

    • I know that if I write more, I’m going to get better at writing (that’s not a specific result) and I want that.
    • I put a website live on the Internet, and I told myself I’d keep the content fresh.
    • I gave myself a requirement to write a post every 2 weeks.
    • I don’t want another project dead in the water.
    • I know I enjoy writing once I get going.
    • I was bored, and I didn’t know what to do with myself before bed, and I wasn’t tired yet, so needed something to fill in the time.

    That’s it. That’s enough to get me writing and re-writing this and posting it for all (the millions) to see. I was mincing around the house not knowing what to do. Then I remembered I had this post that “needed” to be done. This created a slope of potential which happened to lead down the stairs to the dining room table where I’m typing these words.

    That’s it. That’s the secret. That’s all it takes.

    Some of those reasons like “not wanting another project dead in the water” sound pretty sad. To me, that’s incredibly useful. I’ve lived a life of not finishing projects – jumping around all over the place, and getting disappointed in myself if I didn’t follow through. Avoiding those negative feelings is actually quite motivating! My past failures have built up my future potential to actually stick to something for longer.

    Also note that some of those “motivators” are self-assigned, and some are through learning. “I gave myself a requirement”. Am I letting down anyone externally if I don’t do it? Not yet… Just me. At the moment, that’s enough of a responsibility I have to myself to create a potential to write.

    In summary

    You’re reading this post because I achieved the impossible. I reached my potential. I set up a website, and told myself I’d post about once a fortnight. I have lived 42 years and failed probably twice as many times, which feels bad and I don’t want to feel bad. I got bored before bed, had a list of things I could have done, but the slope of potential tipped me towards finishing this post.

    And I’m done. I’m pushing publish. I’m going to bed a happy, fulfilled man who feels like he’s achieved something. I’m going to wake up to a million readers. Or not. It doesn’t matter.

    I also know that in a few days, I’m going to start thinking about writing another post. I’ll start jotting down ideas to get ready to fulfil that 2 week turnaround responsibility I’ve given myself.

    I’ll push the boulder back up the hill, and watch it roll down again.

    One must imagine me happy.

  • LinkedOut

    Hold on to your professional network, LinkedIn’s catching strays today from some rando on the internet. Never has it felt so important for me to bury my head in the sand of 1’s and 0’s of the internet, not worry about what the hell other people are doing, and get on with my own life and work.

    A pre-post disclaimer:

    • If you find yourself in this post and you don’t like it, feel free to post on LinkedIn and give your “7 top reasons why I hate this post – and you should too”.

    I don’t hate everyone that uses LinkedIn. No, not at all. It’s just, how do I put this… Spending more than about five minutes scanning posts and profiles, where everyone is a Chief-Something-Or-Other, sharing their latest industry insight that they thought up and definitely no-one else ever did before, gassing up a “connection” who’s saying a heart-felt goodbye to a solid 7 years in their previous role to move into that inevevitable level-up they’re totally ready for, excited about and deserve – makes me, before tearing out my eyeballs, want to post a “Bye-bye, Internet – Hello freedom!” story on my own LinkedIn.

    I’ll be sure to include overinflating of my confidence, qualifications, work achievements, friendships, and use it as a clever segue into advertising for my new company and next meet-up or LinkedIn event you should totally come to.

    I have been LinkedIn.

    But I always felt on the outside. I felt like an awkward character in a sitcom. The one that walks into a conversation with a big smile on his face and fake laugh, says something awkward and off-base, to have everyone shuffle off looking into their drinks or stare at him blankly.

    I am on the autism spectrum. On the line between “this person has autism” and “this guy is just a bit wierd and flakey and needs to just get better at life”. It’s an awkward place to be sometimes. I’m thankful I got diagnosed with that and ADHD as it does explain some experiences.

    For example, there are stories of people absolutely shocked to hear about their antics the previous night after their 7th shot of Tequila which was definitely only 3 wasn’t it? They swear they don’t remember a damn thing. “Did I REALLY say that?”, and “Oh how embarrassing… Was I being mean? Was I a dick?”

    Imagine having that experience, but instead of 7 shots of Tequila, it was 7 hours of doom-scrolling old acquaintences’ and current friends business successes and prowess.

    LinkedIn’s special brand of FOMO I like to call “You gotta be LinkedIn to win”, drives you to re-word your profile for the nth time in the last 2 years. Now you’re posting some crap about your achievements over the last 2 decades: You’ve been a professional pilot, videographer, software engineer, flight simulator builder, work-culture reformer, tech guru and ambassador, transforming the processes, practices and technologies of multiple organisations, making a measurable impact to the outcomes of staff, clients and KPIs. To make yourself human, it’s vital to remind the world you like to play board games, smoke meats, and/or are an amateur classical pianist. Like a normal person.

    Imagine coming back in 3 months, and reading words that, like the aforementioned morning-after, you have absolutely no recollection of writing. Realising that hackers have better ways to use their time than hacking into and writing this rubbish on your profile – and a quick check on the level of your Tequila – you come to the conclusion that some strange, historical shadow self wrote this. You’ve been grinding the last few months, super busy, head down, getting stuff done! ACTUALLY making a difference and loving life – it’s been great.

    Ashamed of this obviously drunk-on-something persona, you quickly log in to empty your profile details – perhaps even “temporarily suspend” your account. Then come the questions.

    “What part of me can write stuff like this? What possessed me to think this sounded good at the time?” You ask, as you take a swig from the Tequila bottle.

    So I hear (from your profile) you’re a culture expert?

    Brilliant. Then you’ll understand exactly what I’m about to say.

    LinkedIn is a cult.

    No wait – that was a joke! More like a cult-ture. Culture, yes, that’s what I meant. Can’t spell culture without cult… That’s a joke too! Hahahaha… ahh.

    A story for another post, but I’ve had a couple of involvements with organised religion over my life. I feel roughly the same sense of shame when I look back at myself in those periods, as I do looking at my old LinkedIn writings.

    Another bias of LinkedIn shows when even people’s “failure” posts are wrapped in a glowing story of success. It’s all about positive self-promotion. Which hey, you go guy/girl, get it, shout those successes from the rooftops. I’m introspective, and self-critical to a healthy degree (after much work). I have had my most transformative and wonderful interactions, by sharing my stories, unfiltered and honest. And that’s not for everyone, and not for LinkedIn!

    So what DID happen to me? What part of me DID write this bollocks? This is where you and millions of other LinkedInians can go about your merry network-updating, plus-oneing, “I’m stoked to announce” lives. LinkedIn is not a healthy place for a person like me. To someone with my neurology, I’ve had to learn that not everything on LinkedIn is fake, phony, and insincere. Even if some of it IS, in the neurotypical world this still has some kind of societal value in terms of “normality”. It’s “the way it’s done around here”, the culture. It can help people feel generally optimistic, connected, excited, motivated to do better perhaps. Calling it out as fake, makes me look like almost as much of a dick as <redacted> was trying to dance with the bouncer saying “he loves it” while spilling their Tequila all over him.

    I “get” this on an academic level, but I do not and can not feel this value in my own life. When trying to participate, I feel like I’m broken, different, missing out, and not living up to this standard, this “way” – this culture – of LinkedIn. I do not belong there – I feel fake, phony, and insincere.

    It’s ok to not belong.

    So that embarassing rubbish that I wrote on my profile? Well (and boy I feel some of that self-loathing rising up in my gullet even saying this) it’s mostly true. I didn’t need LinkedIn at all to get where I’m at now, and I won’t need it, or choose to use it where I’m going (don’t ask I have no idea). I get far more genuine success, productivity, happiness, optimism, networks, friendships, and general well-being from being LinkedOut.

    But, that’s just me. Is it you too?

    Do you have your own views on LinkedIn culture and whether some people just “don’t belong”? Post a reply and let me know below, or join me at my next networking event…

  • Just Use AI Bro!

    An extra leg. A sixth or seventh finger. A cat wearing boxing gloves fighting a dog. A political interaction between an eastern and wester leader that seems just… a little too romantic and sexy to be real. Eager, annoying, affirming enthusiasm for your half baked idea you thought you’d research and ended up saying “yes, I am a genius. I knew it”.

    Coming across unconsented AI created content has started to elicit a response of anger, frustration, annoyance, and disappoitment in people who come across its slop in the corners of the internet. Or it leaves you patching up the holes made in your life after convincing you absolutely should – nay – MUST start that knitted plushie business after quitting your current job. Follow your dreams baby, we’ll make it real! Thankfully in my case, it often just leaves me refactoring/patching up code instead of poorly made plushies.

    I’m a software engineer. They call us “SWE”s in the biz these days. It’s a term I’ve heard specifically AI and big-tech CEOs use disproportionally more than other folks in the tech industry. Perhaps it’s yet another way of separating the actual level of skill and human ingenuity and intuition required for the job. It makes it easier to talk about us as a disposable, replacable “units of work capability” that can be replaced by the equivalent promise of an AI agent.

    Engineer is too human of a term to give to “SWE”s. Its connotation is too skillful. Heck, I think of an engineer, I’m thinking of someone who designs and calculates a bridge that spans a 400ft gorge, or a rocket builder, electric car designer… Not some monkey at a keyboard bashing out lines of nearly inevitably “buggy” code for a decent salary. It’s playing to my imposter syndrome. In reality, whether I like it or not, some of the stuff I build is mission critical for businesses, their compliance and safety. The decisions I make, how well I work with clients and the rest of the team, my discipline, intuition and experience surely gives a LITTLE credence to the term “engineer” right?

    Maybe it’s just my fragile, work-incompatible, messy, unpredicatble and expensive human ego talking.

    We get juicy speeches from the like of Anthropic’s CEO, and Open AI every 6 months spouting that in 6 months human “SWE”s will be unneeded. In fact we can probably just pack up our things now, because in the AI HQ, they tell us their own AI is already writing most its own code, so yeah. Why do I need to be paid a salary to get dorito crumbs all over the keyboard? Why even try?

    Remember the phrase “1000 monkeys at 1000 typewriters will eventually write the entire works of Shakespeare”? Infinite Monkey Theorem? That’s what comes to mind with the fabled “country of geniuses in a data centre” that one CEO likes to say on repeat. Hell of a lot easier to write Shakespeare if you’ve got say, ALL OF SHAKESPEARE THAT’S ALREADY BEEN WRITTEN available to you to copy. Also more possible if you’re harnessing the power of the sun, or maybe the heat of all humanity stewing in vats of life-supporting fluids living in a virtual “just imperfect enough to stop us for suspecting something’s up” world… They should make a movie about that.

    Ironically (look I NEVER know if I’m using that word right – would it be ironic if this is the correct use?), while getting mad at these people threatining the relevance of my being and value to the workforce, I’m probably “tabbing” away to AI auto-complete suggestions, or writing a new prompt for AI to go run with scissors and see what magic or mayhem it might pull off.

    There are studies that suggest that AI only makes you “feel” faster rather than actually increasing a SWE’s output – but by jeeves if I don’t FEEL like it’s made me faster at my job! I mean, luckily for me I have a pretty good benchmark. It’s a complicated formula:

    How much shit I get doneTime\frac{How~much~shit~I~get~done} {Time}

    There are at LEAST a dozen more subtle variables that have been simplified out of this formula to help non-engineers and non-SWEs understand it, but that’s pretty much it. If I run that through my calculator, it’s pretty clear that I’m… pretty much exactly as fast as before. But my feelings!

    Perhaps my prompt engineering is lacking. Perhaps I’m lacking in vibes. Maybe I should be using Cursor instead of CoPilot, or better yet be running my own LLM locally, the $10k+ investment will easily pay off in a year. I mean, the internet told me there’s this one guy that’s shipped like, 20 AI built apps in a month and is raking in $100k in revenue! Damn I should get on board that HYPE!

    Why the heck do I use AI then?

    Hold on to your Doritos because you may be surprised to hear it – I actually like using AI and I think it’s a fantastic tool. Didn’t I just say it doesn’t make me faster? YES. But what I didn’t include, is how much it’s made me BETTER. Here’s the summary of what AI has done for me:

    AI has helped me look at nearly every issue that I tackle through a different lens, and provides me with a multitude of ideas and patterns that either didn’t come naturally to me, or were outside of my current knowledge, or I was too lazy or under too much time pressure to research and learn by my own volition.

    Using AI over the last couple of years, my ability to write code and solve problems more thoroughly, with less technical debt within the same or increased time pressures, has increased.

    ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

    So really, like the internet, cars, spatulas, screwdrivers, rocks, cats – AI, to me, is a tool to help me get my work done in a more efficient way. Efficiency being “what you get out vs what you put in”. And the REAL formula is more like:

    How much shit I get done∗log(Quality of said shit)Time∗Number of refactors\frac{{How~much~shit~I~get~done} * log({Quality~of~said~shit})}{{Time}*{Number~of~refactors}}

    Now the mathematicians in here might say “hang on, doesn’t the term ‘Quality of said shit’ partly INCLUDE ‘Number of refactors’. Yes. Yes it does. An inverse relationship. # of refactors goes up, quality of said shit usually (but not always) goes down. I said it was complicated ok?

    What’s critical to me, is there’s an experienced human SWE behind the steering wheel, who knows how to drive. Sure there are self-driving cars, but what the heck’s a toddler going to do if the car suddenly decides to freak out and request human intervention? It might make for a hilarious Vince Vaughn movie moment, but you’d probably prefer an experienced driver to be there? They can see and interpret the meta-situation – seeing how the car got there, where it needs to be, the best way to get there, and will happily re-engage the autopilot once we’re back on track.

    I don’t know if I’ve made a point with this ramble, but I’ll put this through AI for polishing over my empty Doritos bag!