johnmaconline

Although not opposites, efficiency and resilience are orthogonal.

Efficiency follows from centralized, standard, high-density, and common. In contrast, resilience follows from distributed, heterogeneous, low-density, and unique.

Efficiency thrives on optimization — doing more with less, reducing waste, and maximizing outputs. Resilience, on the other hand, is about having the ability to adapt and recover — not having too much power or functionality in one area of the system.

But beautiful, elegant, and worthy systems — whether business, society, or individual lives — bring facets of both to the table.

The art lies in recognizing how to balance that tension.

We should follow the rules. But what set of rules, and who makes them?
We should do what’s best. But for whom and who decides what’s best?
We should help each other live a good life. But what is a good life?

The tension between what “should be” and what “is” permeates the very fabric of our human existence — a philosophical battleground that spurs introspection, motivates change, and fuels discontent.

The “should be” often finds its roots in our dreams, aspirations, and the morals and ethics we uphold. It’s the world we envision: a place of equality, fairness, and boundless opportunity. The realm where dreams materialize, and justice prevails. But who’s dreams? And justice for who?

In stark contrast, “what is” represents the ground realities, the imperfections, the challenges, and the systemic structures already in place. It’s the world we live in, warts and all. It’s the pragmatic acknowledgment of the present that for sure falls short of our vision of the ideal.

This chasm can be a source of frustration, igniting passion, driving innovation, and spur movements. But there is always tension because of who decides and to what standards.

There is beauty in the tension. You think about what should be. I think about what should be. We both struggle with what is. Together we move us forward.

We scoff at those who display what we consider to be unearned confidence.

We call them arrogant and cocky, and smart people start labeling with smart labels such as Dunning-Krueger.

Basically, how dare they?

They didn’t earn the credentials. They didn’t wait in line. They didn’t start in the mail room. They didn’t check the boxes. They don’t have the experience.

All of this is true, of course. Who doesn’t want someone with the credentials and the experience? Many times, we need that person. When I had my shoulder replaced, I was looking for the team with the most experience — the most amount of “been there, done that.” Because I wanted each step to be routine. From the prep, the hardware, anesthesia, surgery, and post-op recovery. All as routine as possible.

But also, how do we find new solutions? How does one break out of the box? How does anybody do anything new? How do we create work that matters? How does one make a difference?

Through confidence that isn’t necessarily learned or earned because it comes through belief.

Who doesn’t want to be free?

I sure do.

But also, with freedom comes chaos, responsibility, danger, rif-raf, people not like us, consequences, grit, faster, slower, sharks, and a natural meritocracy.

So we have introduced order. With order comes stability, safety, expectations, people like us, understanding, systems, soft pillows, groomed beauty, and a plan.

We rarely argue over whether we need freedom or order. Not really. Mostly, we argue where the line is.

A religious debate, and I’ve always taken one side.

My side has always been the delayed gratification side.

“Good things come to those who wait.”
“He that can have patience can have what he will.”
“The seeds of greatness are often planted in the soil of patience.”

I’ve seen and experienced the fruits of patience. But I also realize, when I’m being truthful with myself, that I’ve used patience as an excuse.

I’ve not started or not completed a million projects because “I’ll have time, someday.” I’ve not looked for new opportunities because “they’ll come when the time is right.” I’ve not taken the trips because “maybe now isn’t the best time.”

I used to think, “I got 40 or 50 years to make it happen.” But age is a funny thing.

I no longer have 40 or 50 years to make it happen. How many? Who knows. But now the clock is ticking. Louder. Clearer. Each tick echoing with urgency.

I am now becoming acutely aware of this veil that masks procrastination, the voice that whispers comforting lies about infinite tomorrows. I see the constant tension between the present and the eternal, between action and waiting. And somewhere in the intersection of these, life unfolds. But there’s a profound difference between patience and passivity.

While I remain an advocate for the wisdom in waiting, I can no longer use it as an excuse to not to.

About 18 months ago, I had my right shoulder replaced. Before I went under, the doctor confirmed which shoulder to upgrade and marked it with his initials.

This marking practice is common among surgeons to prevent errors. It’s a simple system, but highly effective at eliminating avoidable errors. It ensures everyone involved, from the patient to the medical team, is aligned.

And operating on the wrong shoulder is indeed an avoidable error.

My youngest son started a lawn care and landscaping business two summers ago. I taught him a foolproof method that I used to ensure his trailer was securely attached.

Because the trailer disconnecting as you drive down the road is indeed an avoidable error.

My father was a pilot. I watched and helped him apply a rigorous pre-flight checklist prior to engine start, taxi, and takeoff.

Because an accident due to improper clearance around the propeller is indeed an avoidable error.

Systems and procedures are the perfect antidote for avoidable errors. If that’s the problem you’re having, devise a system, teach the system, and stick to the system.

Unfortunately, you can’t, nor should you seek to avoid all errors. Failing forward is an unavoidable part of growth and innovation. While it’s essential to have systems in place for predictable scenarios, it’s equally crucial to stick your neck out.

Life is a blend of caution and courage. While systems protect us from known pitfalls, embracing the unknown equips us with resilience and adaptability.

Success lies within the tension.

The box exists for a reason. Actually several.

The box keeps the rain out and the heat in. It also keeps the rif-raf out and the people like us in.

The box serves as a guide. Here’s a good direction and a great place to play. But also, stay here, don’t go there.

The box serves up ready-made excuses. The box won’t let me.

The box is familiar. Everything makes sense in the box.

Honestly, there’s probably nothing wrong with the box. Billions of people walk around in the box every day. Happy. Healthy. Safe.

But you and I both know that life begins outside the box.

I do it too. I think we all do, but some are much better at overcoming it than others.

I don’t know if it’s human nature — programmed into us at some basic level. Or if it’s learned — taught by the culture and tribes to which we belong. But I do know it’s a force that is difficult, sometimes impossible, to overcome. 

It’s what keeps people in abusive relationships, crummy jobs, and godforsaken circumstances. Those are the highlight reels. You read about them, see them in news clips, and listen to those stories detailed in podcasts. You probably shake your head and say, “not me.”

But it’s also a much darker and more insidious force that keeps billions of others — probably you and me — on a path of mediocre, malaise, and unrealized dreams. 

That force is the familiar.

We love what we know. We do what we know. We choose what we know. We seek out what others know so we can follow it. We borrow what others know. 

But the path to somewhere is paved with the unfamiliar.

I studied Electrical Engineering in college.

One of the basic electrical components one must learn is called an operation amplifier. Op-amps have a ton of practical circuitry uses in our world such as inverters, phase-shifters, amplifiers, converters, and switches.

To perform circuit analysis and design with op-amps, you can assume that the op-amp is “ideal” — this means you assume several characteristics to be categorically perfect.

Ideal op-amps use no power, have infinite input impedance, unlimited gain-bandwidth and slew rate, no input bias current, and no input offset. They have unlimited voltage compliance.

With these assumptions, you go on your merry way designing or analyzing what’s happening — on paper.

And then you get in the lab. Only practical op-amps exist in the real world, and hence, in the lab.

Practical op-amps consume power, have high, but not infinite, impedance, have limited gain-bandwidth and limited slew rate, have some input bias current and input offset voltage. Voltage compliance is limited by the power supply rail, or frequently even less.

Ideal versus the real world.

Ideal can be assumed for analysis purposes — thought experiments, hypotheses, philosophical systems, “should” statements.

But never forget that, as humans, we live in the real world.

While clearing out my closet recently, I discovered some funky ties from the early 90s — relics from my early-career “work clothes” wardrobe. 

I worked at my first intern assignment at GE AstroSpace during the spring semester of 1990. I wore a tie to the office every day, as did every other male worker.

But apparently, this was already progress because a colleague told me, “not so long ago, we could only wear white shirts and conservative dark ties.”

I returned for my second intern assignment during the spring semester of 1991. Casual Fridays emerged, signaling the onset of Business Casual. No more ties on these days. 

After graduating, I began full-time at the same office, with the same team, and the same people in the early summer of 1992. I never wore a tie to work again. And by now, casual Friday attire had morphed into jeans and a respectable shirt. 

By the time I left that job (by then, the company had morphed into Lockheed Martin) in 1995, jeans and respectable shirts had weaseled into the entire week unless you were presenting to management or meeting with customers. 

And now look at us. Who has “work clothes”? What even is Business Casual? 

Sometimes tradition guides us as to the (relatively) “right thing to do.” Sometimes we mistake tradition for the “right thing to do.” 

There’s nothing wrong with tradition. But let’s recognize the difference between tradition and “the right thing to do.”