johnmaconline

Trust is fuel.
Trust is a bridge
Trust is a contract.
Trust is a foundation.

And trust is a currency.

You can trade it, spend it, and invest it. Like with money, you can track your spending and ROI.

Some people say you must earn trust, but what if you choose to freely give it first?

Starting from a position of trust doesn’t mean you’re naive. It means that you recognize that most relationships, businesses, and institutions function best when trust is the default. Trust accelerates collaboration, fuels relationships, and builds stronger communities.

Starting with trust creates momentum. Withholding it creates barriers.

Of course, not everyone will provide a positive ROI. Some will take advantage or not rise to the occasion. That’s why you should freely give it, but not blindly keep it.

Trust left unspent is like sticking money under your mattress. It won’t grow, and it’ll lose value. You have to spend it for it to work.

Like money, trust is only valuable where you put it.

Before automobiles, people spent a lot of time and energy dealing with horse manure. 

They probably complained, but they also recognized it just was. It wasn’t a problem that had a solution. Therefore, whole cottage industries built up around dealing with horse manure. Street cleaning. Resellers. City-center stables and stable hands. 

Along comes the car.

At first, many resisted. Not because they liked horse manure but because they couldn’t imagine a world without it. The entire system was built around horses. 

Why question something so fundamental?

That’s the paradox of problem recognition. If people can’t envision an alternative, they don’t see a problem at all. The mess in the streets wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t avoidable, either.

Then, as cars became practical, something shifted. The problem had always existed, but only after a better way emerged did people truly recognize it as a problem. 

People defend inefficiency, struggle, even frustration. It’s not because they love it, but because they don’t believe there’sanother way. 

Until there is. If you’re designing a better way, the most important part, and probably the hardest part, is to help people understand that the problem has a solution.

That’s messaging. 

How do you pick your expert? The person you’ll hire to diagnose your illness, fix your plumbing, or lead the town.

If you’re like most people, you start with trust. Who you know and who the people you know know. Personal trust is a powerful selector.

If you don’t know somebody, you’ll probably use credentials. Credentials serve as a surrogate for personal trust.

How else do we build either real or surrogate trust? It’s a puzzle.

We trust signals. Small cues that feel like expertise. A doctor in a white coat, a confident politician, a loud voice. But signals can be misleading.

We trust consensus. If enough people believe someone is an expert, we assume they must be. But crowds can be wrong, and reputations can be built on perception, not reality.

We trust teams. Which team are they on? But teams are built upon ideology, loyalty, and compromise. All of which may have ulterior motives.

So, how do you solve the trust puzzle? You test it.

Ask questions. Look for explanations, not just answers. The best experts have something behind the white coat, confidence, and which team’s shirt they wear.

And be wary of those who avoid the questions.

Real expertise can withstand scrutiny. Real expertise knows it’s limitations. Real experts aren’t afraid of your questions. Real experts pass the test.

Does it mean you should fear?
Does it mean you shouldn’t fear?
Does it mean something bad could happen?
Does it mean something good could happen?

Does it mean nothing?

Sales Cycles.
Business Cycles.
Product Life Cycles.
Orbital Cycles.
Hiring Cycles.
Sleep Cycles.
Economic Cycles.
Water Cycles.
Weather Cycles.
Life Cycles.
Market Cycles.

Some of these are human-made, and some are built into the fabric of the universe.

Cycles are systems. Like all systems, you can either work with them or work to change them. If you ignore a cycle, it keeps turning. If you fight it blindly, it fights back. But if you understand it, you can adapt, influence, or even redesign it.

If you want to change a cycle, it’s probably best to first understand it as a system, because systems protect themselves. What will it react to? What will it react against?

You can’t always break a cycle, but you can decide how you engage with it.

Competition can make you smart. Keeps you sharp. Hones your message. Focuses your attention and resources.

Competition can also make you dumb. Distracts you from what’s important. Pulls resources in the wrong direction. Makes you worry unnecessarily.

When thinking about competition, the key is to decide who, not what.

Who’s your competition? Ignore the others.

It’s one thing to read “over 700000 people have died from AIDS in the US.”

That sounds large and unfortunate. It makes you feel sad but in an abstract way. 

It’s quite another to look with your own eyes at a quilt that contains about 50000 3×6′ panels with names on them — Mike, Jerry, Matthew. Now, it feels personal and real. That’s what the NAMES Project has created.

One thing I’ve learned from over 30 years of engineering and making stuff for people to use — it’s hard to feel abstract. It’s easy to feel personal. 

If you’re making something, or trying to get a message out, or trying to make an impact, make it personal. 

We have a propane tank that supplies a few things in our house, most importantly the stove.

Today it’s empty. Zero. No tea. No eggs.

So, I’ve spent the morning working to get propane delivered as soon as possible.

If your tank is empty, the highest priority you have for today is to get it filled.

Who or what fills your tank?