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About me: I'm an unrepentant generalist finding my way in a world of specialists. I started this blog to review books, but I now talk about topics ranging from management to cognition to social software.
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As many of you know, I’m off at the AYE conference, and one of the major attractors for me personally was Jerry Weinberg. I’ve read books of his like Becoming a Technical Leader and The Secrets of Consulting, and his systems thinking approach is an inspiration to me (his second “law of consulting” is “No matter what they say, it’s always a people problem”).
I attended his first session yesterday afternoon, on being able to say “No” and mean it. It started off somewhat slowly, but things picked up when he requested a volunteer to talk about a situation where they should have said “No” but didn’t. The volunteer discussed a time when he had given an outsized raise to an employee in the early days of his company. Jerry had the conversation role played out in the middle of the room, and a few lines into it, he called freeze to discuss what he saw going on.
He’s a freaking people ninja. In this particular case, he explained how the volunteer was defending his position of not wanting to give a big raise, without ever testing how serious the raise request was. As somebody else pointed out, it’s okay for others to want whatever they want, including a big raise, but we have to recognize those wants as being requests, and treat them as such, rather than treating them as demands to be defended against, subjugating our own opinions in the process. As Jerry asked the volunteer, “Why don’t you value yourself?”
It reminded me of a passage from Speaker from the Dead, where Miro sees Ender clearly for the first time, and says something like “It was as if he knew people at such a deep level that he just brushed past the surface illusions” (the real quote is better but I don’t have it with me). That’s what it felt like watching Jerry parse these conversations. He just ignored the artifice, said what he thought was going on, and was totally present and congruent. Inspirational.
I then got the even greater bonus of going out to dinner with Jerry afterwards – in the session, he said he wanted to meet some of the new conference-goers and five of us immediately volunteered. We talked about a lot of different things, but I particularly liked it when he got into the war stories of old-time hacking. Fun fact of the day – Jerry said that six of the twelve programmers that originally wrote Fortran spent their time developing a single keyword, and he asked me what I thought that was. I took a couple guesses, and he enjoyed telling me the answer was FREQUENCY, and seeing the puzzled look on my face as I had never even heard of it (it was the first thing removed from the language after release). In some sense, he’s a generalist role model for me, as he’s done software, psychology, systems thinking, writing, etc. (he talked about his PhD in systems, where he had to satisfy professors in a number of different fields from linguistics to engineering, even though none of them could pass each others’ tests).
Unfortunately, Jerry announced via Twitter yesterday that he has been diagnosed with fatal thymic carcinoma and this will be his final public appearance for the foreseeable future.
I’m glad I decided to go this year to the conference. The rest of the conference has been good, but meeting Jerry has definitely been a highlight and I’m glad I got the opportunity.
Anybody that’s been following my Twitter feed knows I’ve been working long hours recently. I’m actually working harder now than I was last year when I was working full time while finishing my master’s degree at Columbia. This would come as a surprise to, well, pretty much anybody that’s ever worked with me, given my tendency to do just enough to get by and no more. So what’s different about working at Google for me? My current answer to that question requires a detour through some other things I’ve been thinking about.
I really liked Po Bronson’s book What Should I Do With My Life? when I first read it (his original Fast Company article is a nice introduction). Trying to find a place for myself in the professional world has been an ongoing struggle, as while I have the capability to do anything, I have often found myself in situations where I was stuck doing the “wrong things”. Bronson recently published an update article with his perspective since publishing the book, and a couple quotes from that resonated with me:
“All jobs have things you hate about them. But real people feel fulfilled by the overall purpose of their organization that the shitty parts are worth putting up with. It’s not what you do, it’s what you’re working towards. …you know the feeling you desire — fulfillment, connection, responsibility, and some excitement.”
I think these last four characteristics he describes are absolutely key for me. I don’t define myself by the specific work tasks that I have to do, as I have the flexibility to do any number of tasks. I aspire to define myself with the meta-work of being a generalist. I want to feel that I am getting to use my unique potential and abilities in the course of doing my job. I need to find some sort of meaning in what I’m doing, or at least be working towards both personal and company goals.
As Bronson observes, there are annoying parts of every job – the question is whether the goal towards which one is working is worth the annoying parts. To put in a larger sense, it is important to know the answer to the question of “Why am I doing this?” In a similar vein, when I have friends considering grad school, I argue strenuously against it and try to dissuade them from going. This is not because I don’t value education – it’s because grad school is really hard, and the only way to get through it is to know exactly why you are going. My arguing against grad school is a way for me to get them to articulate their core reason for going to grad school.
To get back to my original question of what makes my job at Google different than other jobs I’ve had in the past is that I can see how I am contributing to making the company work better. I do genuinely believe that Google is making the world a better place, all things considered, as it provides us all with tools that are astonishing in their ability to put information at our fingertips. I can see a future for myself where I get to use all of my skills and talents in that goal. The only obstacle between me and that future is myself – I have the opportunity, the skills, the support to get there.
So while the long hours are irksome, they are not morale-destroying – we were joking this week about who in our group would be the first to snap, and I was surprised to realize that I wasn’t anywhere near snapping. I have hit my limits before and know what that feels like. But in this case, while I am tired and occasionally cranky, I feel like the work I am doing is recognized as meaningful, both to the company and to my future, and that’s far more sustainable for me than working even half the hours on dead-end tasks like technical support.
This has tremendous implications for managers. In a free agent world, getting the top people is no longer about paying them the most (beyond a certain point, I don’t think it makes a difference) or showering them with perks – it’s about giving them challenging, meaningful, interesting work. Managers need to find ways to engage their employees by framing the work that needs to be done in a narrative that propels the employee forward into a desired future. Getting back to Bronson, managers need to work with their employees to answer the question of “Why am I doing this?” And the answer doesn’t have to be existential – it can be as simple as earning the money to support one’s family. But there needs to be an answer, because without that answer in place, the annoying parts of the job will wear anybody down.
Anyway. We’ll see how I feel in another month if things don’t slow down, but for now, it was interesting to think about how this job has given me the belief that I can finally stretch myself in the directions I want to go with my career and life, in terms of building on my interests in interdisciplinary collaboration. It’s not a Great Cause ™, but the belief that I have found a good fit for my skills and talents is exciting enough to me to keep me going through the long hours. That being said, it sure is nice to take a weekend off and actually have time to write down some of my thoughts 
Google has a program called Self-Powered Commuting, where they let employees track the days on which they get to work via self-powered methods (primarily biking or walking). At the end of the year, they tote up the number of days, and donate a proportionate amount to charity.
What’s amazing to me is how effective this program is at making me feel guilty when I don’t bike to work. I have the tracking page set up to open as one of my initial tabs, and every morning I don’t bike to work, I feel a slight twinge when I have to close the tab without clicking the button. And when I look back at the month, I can see which days I missed and wonder what my excuse was for not biking. The simple act of checking in once a day and tracking how I did is remarkably effective at reinforcing the habit of biking that I want to inculcate in myself.
In a similar vein, I recently found Joe’s Goals, which is a website based on the same concept. It allows you to set goals for yourself, assign them different point values, and track them on a daily basis. For instance, I give myself 1 point for flossing and eating 4 fruits a day, but 3 points for going to the gym or posting here. And now I can see tangible progress towards acquiring these habits – I’ve flossed every day for a week!
It’s silly that such a small thing as checking a box once a day can reinforce habits that I have been saying I should acquire for years. But it does. By reducing my goals down to a daily yes-or-no question, there’s no fudging, there’s no “I’ll get to it tomorrow” – there is only whether the box gets checked or not. I read recently that new behaviors take a month to set into place as habits (Google Answers has a couple references), so if I can keep up these habits for a month, then I can perhaps add a couple more next month. We’ll see.
But I think tracking has applicability beyond personal improvement, specifically in management. One of my favorite management anecdotes is the story of how Andrew Carnegie (I think?) was asked to figure out how to make an underperforming factory more productive. He said all he needed was a piece of chalk. He arrived at the shift change between the night crew and the day crew, asked the outgoing crew how many widgets they had produced, wrote that number on the wall with the chalk, and waited. The incoming crew asked what that number was. He told them. At the end of their shift, the number was erased and replaced with a higher number. The night crew put up a higher number, and soon the factory was outperforming other factories. The story may be apocryphal, but I find it indicative of the power of tracking (and also competition in this case).
Many management texts recommend SMART goals – that’s Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-Bound. And those are good, although the method biases action towards easily measurable goals, which may not be aligned with overall organization goals. But the Self-Powered Commuting and Joe’s Goals pages show me that having regular checkpoints is really important as well, so that one can’t be procrastinating on those goals. I suspect that some of the benefit of Agile methods is having a daily stand-up meeting, so everybody knows they have to make progress each day. My best manager checked in with me once a week, to find out what I’d done the previous week, and what I planned to do the next week.
What are the behaviors you want to inculcate in yourself and others? Would tracking those behaviors, either privately or publicly, help? It’s a theory, and we’ll see how the Skinner-ian self-management experiment goes for me. If I’m still sticking with it in a week, I’ll move the Joe’s Goals tracker to my sidebar .
[Ed: We take a detour from our normal posts about cognition and management to talk about pants. Feel free to skip this post. Really. Just go on your way. It's a waste of your time anyway. I'm just working out some clothing issues in public.]
I recently posted on Twitter, which then posted as my Facebook status message, about my attempt to convince myself that I should spent ~$200 on these bike/dress pants. Something like 10 people commented on these pants, which is kind of bizarre in and of itself, and most of the comments were something like “Duh, of course you should get the pants – they’re nice, you can afford them, what’s the problem?” So this got me thinking about my reticent attitude towards clothing.
Part of it is that, yes, I’m an adult, and I could buy the pants, but at the same time, as an adult, I have to balance my wants with other longer-term wants and run an implicit cost-benefit analysis between dropping $200 on pants today and saving up for a down payment on a house. Admittedly, I think I weight myself too heavily towards the long-term, and almost never buy anything for myself (except books) (and I’m trying to cut back there by using this remarkable place called the library that brings me books for FREE!). So it’s hard to say.
I also have a hard time convincing myself to spend money on clothes in general. I’ve never been particularly interested in looking good, although I make abortive attempts occasionally. Mostly I make one trip a year to Macy’s, or in the last couple years, make one order on L.L. Bean, buy a couple pairs of slacks and shirts, and I’m good. So the idea of spending $200 on a single pair of pants is kind of horrifying to me as that’s typically what I spend on clothes in a year.
Interestingly, I’m willing to spend that kind of money on shoes. I wear shoes every day, and finding comfortable, durable shoes is worth it to me. I love my Ecco boots – I bought them two years ago and they’re holding up just fine despite daily wear and tear (my previous pair of boots lasted four years). I bought a new pair of Ecco dress shoes this summer that I expect to last me ten years.
But clothes aren’t the same way. Part of the reason is that clothes wear out. I at least have finally gotten in the habit of throwing out clothes with holes in them – I had a conversation a few years ago with a friend who asked me whether I owned any t-shirts without holes in them, so this is a bigger step than you might think. I actually paid for new t-shirts (*gasp*) which horrified the thrifty anti-appearance troll within me.
Part of the reason is I’m just bad at buying clothes. I’ve occasionally bought myself shirts and slacks that just don’t work on me for one reason or another, and that money just went to waste. Those just sit on my hangers making me feel stupid – moving back from New York was my excuse to give a bunch of those to Goodwill.
The couple times I’ve gone shopping with friends definitely helped, as they forced me to try on lots of outfits to find out what worked for me. That helped me realize that a significant portion of getting clothes that look good is finding clothes that actually fit. It wasn’t a magical process, there was no secret – it was simply spending several hours trying on things, and seeing what looked good. I still don’t like the process, and am mostly standard sized enough that I can order things over the web, but I at least understand that I could look nicer if I put in the time.
Which raises another underlying tension – I’m uncomfortable with trying to improve my physical appearance. I’ve always identified myself as “smart”, and to some extent, it feels like trying to also look good would dilute my focus. In other words, I present it to myself as a bi-valued choice, and feel like I can only pick one – looking good is explicitly not part of my identity, so I choose not to pursue it. Which is stupid, I know, but there you go.
Anyway, it’s interesting to me that I started thinking about all these topics as the result of an innocent twitter about pants, so I thought I would share. I’m most of the way towards convincing myself these pants would be durable and look good and I could wear them regularly for years, which would be enough to get me to buy them next week some time. Of course, they’ve added more pants choices since I first looked, which is just making the choice harder as I can’t decide which color or which material to get. Damn you, paradox of choice!
In case you were wondering why I didn’t update my blog much in November, it wasn’t just my new job responsibilities at Google. I had also chosen to sing in the San Francisco Symphony’s recording of Mahler’s 8th Symphony, which was recorded last weekend. So the rehearsals used a lot of my extra time and energy this month, but it was totally worth it. Read my account on my chorus page for further details if you’re interested.
Over the weekend, I attended the Convergence08 unconference, which focused on future technologies like biotech, nanotech, artificial intelligence, etc. I had to miss the Saturday morning sessions, as I had a chorus rehearsal for this week’s Mahler concerts, but I was there on Saturday afternoon and most of the day Sunday.
The first session I attended was on “Building a better search engine”, which I chose because I work at Google (although on nothing related to search). The attendees speculated about the next big jump in information finding technology, including:
As an aside, it was interesting to me that I’ve gone from being a technological positivist where technology will solve our problems, to being skeptical of most technical solutions, partially because I now think the hardest and most interesting problems are not solvable by technology per se, but instead require the design of new social technologies to coordinate people in new ways.
The next panel I attended was called something like AI and Sense making. I’m fascinated by the question of how we make sense of the world as my continuing obsession with stories makes clear. This was a session where people discussed the idea of sense making (Gary Klein’s work with firefighters was a big influence), how it could be embedded into technology and possible business ideas built on such technology. The discussion was interesting but because sense making is a fuzzy cognitive concept, one attendee afterwards commented that it was difficult to separate sense making from general AI. Two recommendations for further reading I want to record for myself: Perspectives on Sensemaking, an article by Gary Klein, and Sensemaking in Organizations, a book by Karl Weick.
One useful construct from the session was the idea that we create a frame, view everything coming in through that frame, but keep track of whether things are corroborating with reality. Once the discrepancy with reality grows too large, we have to consider junking the existing frame and finding a new one that fits the data better, which I see as yet another form of Bruno Latour’s process.
Then it was time for the keynote speech by Paul Saffo, which I had been eagerly anticipating after having seen him speak several years ago. I was not disappointed – even though it covered many of the same topics as that previous talk, it was entertaining and informative. Tidbits that I wrote down:
Sunday morning started with a panel on synthetic biology. There were a variety of panelists, with backgrounds in physics, software, and biology, but my favorite was Denise Caruso of the Hybrid Vigor institute, as she questioned the assumptions that the optimistic scientists were making. Her focus area has been on risk analysis, especially in new fields where the risks are difficult to quantify, but her point is that the benefits are equally difficult to quantify, so we shouldn’t be going in with the assumption that innovation is automatically good. Her belief is that we need to come up with better processes and methods for assessing risk with interdisciplinary input. You can see why a generalist like me would be a fan (I actually asked a question during Q&A supporting her viewpoint). I chatted with her a bit afterwards, and also attended the breakout session after lunch with her on innovation and risk, which brought together interesting conversations and different perspectives (the work that Etan Ayalon is doing at GlobalTech Research looks particularly interesting to me). I also liked Caruso’s concept of Bayesian regulation, where it’s not black and white, but involves conditional probabilities.
I missed the next session as I ended up chatting with folks from that first after lunch session for about half the next session, and then had to prepare for my session, “How do organizations think?” I threw it open as a discussion forum expanding on the ideas in my post on organizational cognition, and had a good discussion with the eight people who attended. We talked about different people’s experiences with different organizational structures and what might work to improve those. One key concept that was identified was that designing an organizational culture and structure has to first start with the purpose for which the organization is built. Different structures will serve different purposes, and incongruities between the structure and purpose will cause friction. People expressed interest in possibly having a follow up session after the conference was over, but I didn’t get everybody’s contact information, so I hope they get in contact with me.
I ended up bailing out on the end of the conference during the longevity panel, as I had other plans for the evening, but all in all, it was a good experience – I met a couple new interesting people, had some good discussions, and found new food for thought, which were pretty much my goals for the weekend. But now it’s time to get back to my normal life.
Technorati tag: Convergence08
A few months ago, I volunteered to contribute an essay to a compendium called “The Age of Conversation 2″. The first “Age of Conversation” book resulted after two editors collected submissions on the topic of conversation from one hundred bloggers and self-published the result at lulu.com. The second book, in which my essay appears, is now available at lulu for purchase. It may just be a collective vanity self-publishing project, but it will still be kind of neat for me to see something I wrote bound into a book.
Despite the help of my readership in brainstorming ideas for the essay, one of the requirements for publication was that I refrain from posting my essay here for six months. So if you just want to see my essay, ping me then.
As noted in my last post, this is my first week as an employee of Google. I’m trying to get up to speed on the types of things that I will be doing, which meant spending most of today learning about the ad system, revenue forecasting models, how the Google backend works, etc. Unsurprisingly, there’s a tremendous amount of Google-specific knowledge developed over the past ten years on these topics. Somewhat surprisingly for an engineering organization, the internal documentation is fairly good, and is well-linked to other relevant documentation.
This led to an interesting situation, where my brain started feeling very odd with a sort of buzzing sensation, and I started having trouble thinking clearly. I eventually figured out where I’d felt that way before – it had been during Mike Murray’s Hacking the Mind talk, when he had pulled a buffer overflow attack on the audience by opening loops (by starting stories) and never closing them (by finishing the stories). What had happened is that I had started exploring one topic, seen a link to another topic, opened a new tab to look into that topic, seen a link to a third topic, opened a tab for that, etc. By the time I noticed my brain feeling odd, I was up to ten open tabs on various topics. Yup, I had committed a buffer overflow attack on my own mind to the point where I’d impaired my own functioning.
Once I figured that out, though, it was easy to figure out what to do – I had to close the loops in my mind and offload the storage from my brain. So I started a to-do list with the different topics of interest to be explored later, and the links that I had open in each tab for that topic. I also started a list with links to the tabs that had particularly useful information for future reference. Once I created those lists, I started closing the tabs and thus convinced my brain that it could free up those memory pointers. With the swap space that had been devoted to those open loops, I then had the brainpower to actually think again.
It was an interesting process to watch, but it also highlights a danger of my typical way of learning. I like learning in a top-down fashion, where I learn the big picture of a system first, which gives me a framework on which to attach my understanding of pieces of the system. At the previous startups I had worked at, I could read all of the documentation written by the startup in less than a day, and get a big-picture understanding of how everything fit together pretty quickly. Trying to do that at Google was like trying to drink from the firehose and demonstrated that there are some systems that are just too big for me to hold completely in my brain at once.
So I’ll have to be more disciplined about organizing how I’m learning things this week. As noted, I’ve opened up a couple files to help me organize what I’ve learned so far and what I still need to learn. I’ll also need a few more files to offload information once I’ve learned it, at least until I see it enough times that it can be transferred to long-term embedded storage, which has more capacity.
Anyway, I was entertained by this incident of accidentally malicious self-hacking, so I figured I would share.
I have a bad habit of trying to fake knowledge when I don’t have it. Whether the topic is world politics or art history or technology or postmodern sociology, I like to pretend that I am knowledgeable on the topic and keep on talking. This habit drives some of my friends crazy, as they feel that it is tantamount to lying. One of them asked me why I do it last month, and while I took a crack at an answer at the time, I’ve been thinking about the question and have some more thoughts.
My friend suggested that my faking was a hubris-laden attempt at being a know-it-all. And I think that’s part of it. Through high school, I could know it all, mastering all subject areas to which I was exposed. I was a champion “Scholastic Bowl” (aka Quiz Bowl) player, answering questions from math to literature to history to biology to physics. Even though it’s patently ridiculous for me to now pretend I can be an expert in all of those disciplines, a bit of me still clings to that youthful self-identity, and keeps on trying anyway.
And yet I’m perfectly happy to concede my own ignorance when confronted with somebody that clearly knows more than I do, so it’s not purely an ego thing where I’m trying to assert dominance. There’s something else going on here. After thinking about it some more, I think it’s actually tied into my identity as a generalist.
Part of being a generalist is understanding different subject areas well enough to effectively communicate with practitioners of that subject. That means not only speaking the right jargon, but understanding the structure of thought associated with that subject, and the mental connections that practitioners make. Without this framework understanding, the generalist will not be able to effectively translate into and out of the subject. For instance, physicists are grounded in a quantitative view of the world, so trying to communicate with them in terms of verbal abstractions will be ineffective; mathematical approaches will work better. On the flip side, biologists are more open to fuzziness, as biological systems are much less predictable and temperamental experimental subjects, so qualitative observations are acceptable.
So when I’m faking knowledge on a topic, I’m practicing my skills as a generalist. Do I understand the structure of the subject well enough to keep up my end of the conversation? It’s a test of my mastery of the jargon, of the basic concepts of the field, of the way in which practitioners communicate. If I am not called out as a fake, I pass the unspoken test, and am accepted as one of the community. If I am called out (as my friend once memorably did in a conversation about art history when she said after five minutes “Wow, you know way less about this than I thought you did!”), I can review what I did wrong which helps me improve my understanding of the communication within that subject.
Understanding the language is also an essential element of being accepted within a community. I’ve written about this before with respect to ultimate frisbee culture, but it’s true of any community. Each community has its own jargon and cultural touchpoints, and knowing what those are is part of what it means to be a community member: Chicago Cubs fans are scarred by references to Bartman, classical music buffs have opinions about Mahler and Mozart, certain nerds talk in Star Wars quotes. My ability to learn the basics of the jargon and the culture of many different communities gives me the freedom to travel between those communities as a social butterfly, cross-pollinating between them.
Faking it is also a good way to find out if I’m talking to somebody who actually knows a subject. They’ll be able to catch me out on a topic, which becomes an opportunity for me to learn from them about that topic. This may not work, as many people are too polite to tell other people they’re wrong or full of crap. MIT tends to foster an adversarial conversation style, where mistakes are leaped upon, but more genteel members of society just nod politely and change the subject. So that’s a potential problem with faking it as a means for discovering expertise.
So does faking knowledge on a subject make me a charlatan know-it-all, unfit for society? Or does it make me a generalist, developing my ability to communicate between communities? What do you think?
In a continuation of my reflections on my personal brand as a generalist, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a generalist in corporate America. What is the value proposition that I as a generalist bring to companies and how can my skill set contribute to a company’s success? To put it more starkly, if I were to work as a generalist consultant, what would that even mean and how would I measure my contributions? Grant McCracken’s been struggling with the same question as an anthropologist, and it seems like there’s a lot of overlap between his answer and mine:
“Anthropologists are good at recognizing patterns in social and cultural data. My clients get this about me. They used to ask me to find the solution. More and more, they ask me to find the problem. How, they ask, should we be thinking about this? Anthropologists are good pattern seekers, good assumption hunters.”
Along similar lines, I’ve often said that one of my skills is asking the right questions. When confronted with an unfamiliar situation, I can draw analogies to other situations that I have previously dealt with, and ask a series of questions to narrow the cone of uncertainty. Once the situation is framed appropriately, that elicits a series of appropriate questions. I may not know the answers to those questions, but once the right questions are being asked, I can call on the appropriate specialists to answer those questions, as I described in a previous post defending generalists.
This reminds me of a question a friend asked me a couple months ago: does being a generalist just mean specializing in multiple areas? My instinctive answer was no, but it took me a while to articulate why. There is a different attitude towards the world – when confronted with a problem, a specialist, even a multi-specialist, tries to figure out how to use their mastery to answer the problem as posed, whereas a generalist asks questions to understand the system, possibly revealing an underlying problem that should be handled by a different specialist. I do think that experience in multiple specializations will tend to incline one towards the generalist attitude, as the different perspectives of each specialization will make one have to think about how the system fits together; after all, that’s how I got to this point, wending my way through physics and software and biotech. But I don’t think that’s the only way to become a generalist.
This question of what it means to be a generalist has also come up recently as I try to explain my latest career move to friends; when I say “I’m going to work for Google…”, they nod and say “Yeah, makes sense”, but when I continue with “…as a financial analyst”, they look confused and don’t see how it makes sense with the rest of my career. To explain what attracts me to this position requires a digression into my generalist quest, as part of the reason for taking this job is to give me more perspectives with which to work, including a financial perspective, a quantitative modelling perspective, and the perspective of working for a large company as opposed to a startup. Understanding how companies work as a system requires understanding the financial side, as that is a driving factor in many corporate decisions.
Getting back to the original question of what it may mean to be a generalist consultant, I think it may mean analyzing companies as systems by examining how the different parts of the company are working together. By being able to talk to each area of the company in their own language, based on my own experience as a developer, scientist, manager, and now analyst, I could see how the areas are working together or against each other. The delivered analysis would include asking and answering the right questions to understand why delivered results are not consistent with stated goals, including inconsistent incentive plans, interdisciplinary communication difficulties, etc. (as an aside, I need to do some more reading in the field of organizational behavior and organizational learning, as that would seem to be a field where these sorts of questions are being asked). And the experience of building revenue models at Google will give me tools that may be useful in generating ROI spreadsheets to convince management of the value of such analyses. I don’t know – I’m still playing around with ideas here, as the branding of myself as a generalist is still a work in progress.
Tomorrow, some thoughts on how my generalist perspective sometimes mischievously reveals itself.
P.S. I’m back! Since my last post three weeks ago, I’ve road tripped across the country with a friend and a harp via Chicago, the South Dakota Badlands and Yellowstone, moved into a rented house in Mountain View, and caught up with several Bay Area friends. I start work at Google on Monday, but I’ve been enjoying the time off after a crazy summer of job hunting, packing and moving. If you’re around and want to hang out this week, let me know.
