johnmaconline

Of course, most business value propositions are, at their core, some version of “faster, better, cheaper.”

You’ve probably spent your career working under some part of that value proposition. I certainly have. It’s almost exclusively what technology is about. It’s what we at 4TLAS do for our clients. 

But what about life?

We have to eat, fix the leaky roof, keep the checking account (reasonably) balanced, maintain the car, etc. 

Millions of companies and people exist to “faster, better, cheaper” those things for us. Why make a meal when I can have someone do it faster, better, cheaper? Why refinish my own kitchen cabinets when I can have someone do it faster, better, cheaper? Why change the oil myself…

Faster, better, cheaper. It’s hard to argue with.

What do you like doing? And I mean doing — actively participating in some sort of labor.

The enjoyment of labor — whether it’s working on your house or car, crocheting, writing, or cooking — is in the labor itself. The doing. Slower. 

The outcome of your labor may not be as good as someone else could do. You’re not the best, but you’re still proud of it. Worse.

You’re not buying in volume. Maybe you’ve wasted material or money on the wrong thing. Maybe you’ve redone it several times. But now you’re happy with it. More expensive. 

Enjoyment is about engaging. Putting yourself into it through your labor. 

Slower, worse, more expensive. 

An artist can’t price her work based on how many hours she spent at the easel.
The software developer can’t price their app based on how many hours he spent at the terminal.
The soft drink producer can’t price the drink in the vending machine based on how many hours it took to build the can, mix the liquids, fill the can, store it, deliver it, and place it in the machine.

All of these are priced based on (perceived) value to a customer willing to purchase.

Whenever you’re making stuff, remember that it’s not about how much time you put in. It’s about how much value you’re providing.

Most people want to be most people. 

We say things like, “Everybody…” and then fill in the blank. Or, if we’re justifying, we say things like, “But everybody…” and fill in the blank. 

Being a most people provides safety. Protection in numbers. Comfort. No emotional risk. It makes a lot of sense. There’s no problem with being a most people. 

Unless you’re trying to do something.

If so, walk around with your head up.

If you can be the one with your head up for any length of time, this is what you’ll see:

• Most people don’t have their heads up. 
• Most people are hypnotized by their handheld machine.
• Most people don’t say “Hi.”

If you’re trying to do something, you probably don’t want to be a most people.

One way to start is to walk around with your head up.

Authenticity is for your marriage, parents, and closest friends.

Consistency is for your kids, job, and team.

Sure, there are opportunities for your authentic self to show up for your kids, colleagues, and those depending on you. And there is a wonderful congruency in the world when you’re able to align your authentic self with your consistent self.

But when the shit hits the fan, and you’re angry, tired, and drained, those depending on you need the consistent you, not the authentic you.

You always have the right to be the authentic you in any situation, but we also have the right to disagree with, dislike, and reject that version of you. You have the right to sink the ship with authenticity. We have the right to throw you overboard.

Authenticity is overrated in most situations that call for leadership.

“Oh, you’re one of them.”

Depending on context and source, that’s either a slur or a compliment.

The beauty is that it’s up to you to decide.

If you don’t know, you can pause.
If you need to think, you can pause.
If you need to calm down, you can pause.

Never underestimate the pause.

Who’s it for?

It’s not for everybody, so don’t worry about everybody. Worry about your person. Are they an expert or a beginner? You’ll have to make assumptions about terminology, visuals, and workflow. Build them around who it’s for. 

Why are they here?

They’re using your UI to do something. What is that, and why? Simplify around the why. Make the why front and center and dead-easy to understand and recognize. The default workflow should naturally support the why. 

What do they care about? 

Attend to what they care about, not what you care about. They care about feeling smart, heard, and accomplished. Your UI should make them feel all of those.

What do they struggle with?

Tolerate mistakes. Simplify terminology and workflow. Guide via defaults. Use visuals consistently with terminology. Less clicks. Less talking. Less time.

Use the above questions to design your UI. Whether its an app, service, or you. 

Back porch:

Silence. A breeze rustles the leaves in the trees. The smell of coffee. A blue jay whisks by and screeches. More silence. A dragonfly buzzes. Another rustle. More silence. Stationary.

Front porch:

Distant murmurs. The sun peaks under the eaves. A car rolls past. Kids run by. Neighbors stop on the sidewalk for an exchange of pleasantries. A dog barks. Another car. Leisurely.

The Screen:

A cacophony. Three-second blurbs. Scroll and swipe. On to the next. Flashing colors. Free! You’ve won! Special offer! Attention seekers. Energetic.

Porch pace is boring. Not much happens, and certainly not quickly. Go inside to fill your mug and you won’t miss much, if anything.

Screen pace? Exciting. Do it now. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.

You’ll need to engage at screen pace, at least sometimes. The world moves at screen pace. But porch pace teaches you to appreciate where you are right now.