Learning is Change

Questions 222 of 365: How gullible are we?

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Gullibility is an ironic joke to those who are young. We tell each other that the word isn’t in the dictionary or that it is written on the ceiling. We prove ourselves gullible nearly every chance we get because we get so excited about the things that we know can’t possibly be true but that we wish were anyway. We believe in what our older siblings and parents tell us about bunnies who give away chocolate and monsters in closets. We continue to believe out of fear or pride.

As adults, though, we shun gullibility as a vice. We proclaim our abilities to rise above gullibility and rely upon the logic that we have honed over the years. And yet, we get sucked in anyway.

No fewer than four times today I received direct messages employing me to come and sign up for my chance to beta test iPads. These direct messages were from real people I know and follow. Each one of them were sucked into a slick looking webpage enough to give away their Twitter credentials and have their accounts hacked. They were drawn in by the promise of a free iPad. They were lulled into a false sense of security by a beautiful website theme. In short, they were gullible.

I don’t blame them, though. A few weeks ago, I was duped into entering my credentials to visit a mobile movie site. I realized my mistake, but it was awfully hard to tell on my phone that I wasn’t someplace like Netflix. But I think the broader point was that I wanted it to be that easy. I wanted to be able to watch full length movies on my phone so badly that I was willing to take the risk and pass out my account to anyone with enough gumption to promise it to me. I wanted to be gullible, and they knew that. They took what I held as the next logical step in the hope of technology and they ran with it. Because it wasn’t a giant leap, I was okay to be duped. I think that is exactly what happened to others today.

Because the iPad is something that likely each one of those people who out in their information were looking purchasing in the future, they saw this as the means to take that next step into iPad ownership. It wasn’t something that would just be nice to have down the road. These people had put enough time and thought into it to know that if there was some way of attaining one, they were going to do it. And rather than money, they were willing to shell out privacy in order to take that next step.

And, it is that next step that is going to kill us.

Well, maybe not kill, but surely get us into some pretty serious trouble. Because we are so eager for quick fixes and easy ways out, there is no limit to what others can propose to us. So long as it is not too outlandish or too far off what we can see directly in front of us, we are willing to accept some sacrifice to see where this path leads. We are willing to take the next steps with those that we are unfamiliar, but we would never do the same thing if they promised an entire journey.

This is the reason that most people don’t accept the “free cruise” flyer as legitimate, but they do accept the penny auction sites or sketchy Facebook targeted facebook ads (the ones that know your age and the fact that you are a father… just creepy). We accept what we can theorize into being. Whatever bit of magic there is in the offer (free, unlimited, etc.), there is always a basis in something real. There is always a reason that something is so cheap, and if we can see that reason as legitimate then the offer itself has been legitimized.

We are so gullible that we are willing to give away our universal passwords (most people use the same password for everything) for just the hope of attaining what we don’t have right now. It makes me worry about just how much we are being sold that is one step removed from reality. Was the promise of Google Wave’s revolutionary collaboration tool just a bit too magical? Is the promise of 3d video one step beyond what it is that we actually need? Are the ultra low prices at the local discount store or online retailer simply too much? Are we just being gullible?

The answer, probably, is yes.

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Question 221 of 365: Who are we before we have done anything (and who are we after)?

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I am lucky enough to have kept copies of my earliest resumes.

As an assignment in my 11th grade English course, we were required to write up our resume in an astoundingly boring format. Here are the highlights (leaving out some of the more personal information for brevity):

Career Objective:
My future plans include going to college and studying secondary education in literature/English. After which I hope to become a high school teacher for honors and AP courses in English or literature appreciation.

Education:
Chagrin Falls High School.
Chagrin Falls, OH.

Years in attendance:
Three.
Academic Highlights:
AP English 11
AP Comp. Sci.
Five quarters of a 3.5 average or above (honor role)

Extracurricular Activities (School & community):

  • Leader/Instructor of GCPCUG Teen computer Special-
    Interest Group
  • Chagrin Falls Men’s Select Choir
  • Youth Group Member

    • Awards:

  • Joseph Baldwin Award

  • 2nd place in Science Fair for Engineering

  • Midwest talent search participant

    • Skills/Interests:

  • Proficiency in Microsoft Office, Frontpage, and Windows

  • Travel to: Japan, Australia, Argentina, Brazil, Spain, and New Zealand

    • Work Experience:
    Type of Business- Restaurant
    Position- Waiter

    Volunteer Service:

  • Missions trips

    • At this point in my life, I had little to show for my 17 years on earth, at least that would show up on a resume. Yet, I still went through the exercise and tried to come up with things that didn’t seem like I was fluffing too badly. I was never so desperate for life experience as I was when I was doing that assignment.

    I was a kid and I knew it. I didn’t have a blog and I didn’t have a Twitter account. I hadn’t yet started building any kind of reputation outside of the few people I went to high school with (my graduating class was 125 kids, which has got to be one of the worst environments to network within especially because the vast majority of us has started going to school together in grade school). There wasn’t anything that I had done which wasn’t being done by a half dozen or more other people (except perhaps starting a teen special interest group for computer users). So, at that point, the only thing on a resume is potential. All of the things in that short list are basically I owe you’s to the rest of my life.

    Experience and potential are the two sides of a coin for our identities. In the first years of life, our coins are weighted so heavily toward potential that there is almost no consideration of the other side. As our resumes fill up, the balance is restored somewhat. It is only when we stop learning that our experience begins to outweigh our potential, landing up with the same predictability as our stories of the good old days.

    I wonder often at whether or not my balance between experience and potential is sufficient. As I revise my resume for the hundredth time, I am struggling to know exactly what is expeience and what is potential, and how much of either someone else can see.

    I feel as though I did when I was 17, looking at that nearly empty sheet of paper. I am desperate for things that would make me seem more valuable. I am conscious of my relative youth and inexperience with responsibility. I know that my world view is colored by my family and my eccentric technological interests (read: geek cred). My specific skill set is nothing in comparison to the generalists that I imagine are around every corner.

    While all of those things are true, I feel better about putting things on paper. The spaces I have created for learning and collaboration have left a much more permanent (and searchable) resume. The potential is concrete. The plans are already in motion. My coin may remain unbalanced, but as it spins around on the table, waiting to make the decision about my next direction, I feel comfortable in letting it go to chance. I have influenced it enough. The weight is perfect for where I am, and where my resume says I’ve been.

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    Question 220 of 365: Who do we ask to watch our stuff?

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    I don’t regret leaving my laptop, cell phone, iPad, and portable wifi hotspot on the table. I don’t regret leaving it behind in the keep of a few teenage boys. They looked after if just fine for the few minutes that I was away, and I didn’t think twice.

    But, I’m not sure that I could have left those items with just anyone. I would only be judging them on heir looks and their outward personalities, but there are some folks that would not receive my benefit of the doubt. I would love to take a moment to enumerate those people that I do not trust as a general rule. I do this not to express my bias, but to dig down deep into my lack of trust for those who I perceive as having no respect for the things that I am interested in. It is callus and it is rude, but it is also a truth I have. I must be honest about my issues of trust.

    Those that I would not leave in charge of my highly expensive, but replacable, things:

  • Kids dressed up for prom (they are too caught up in their own things to take much priority for my gadgets)
  • Adults with cut off sleeves (they may be cooler from a temperature standpoint, but the out of touch sense I get from this clothing makes me wonder how responsible they are.)
  • Those under the age of 6 (I really don’t want my kids looking after stranger’s things, so I feel like I should reciprocate that).
  • Groups of more than 6 (there is no shared responsibility in groups larger than six. You can always blame someone else for not doing something, i.e., watch things intently)
  • Other people with tons of gadgets splayed out (again, something will get lost in the shuffle here. No one can maintain two sets of identical stuff easily).
  • People in anything that could be considered a disguise including wearing sunglasses and hats indoors. (It’s just sketchy.)

    • So, there you have my awful preducices against those I do not know. What unnamed fears of others do you have?

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    Question 219 of 365: When do we need to invent places to be?

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    The most creative virtual worlds are those that are in our heads. They are the ones that we create out of pure necessity. We need them in order to put things into their place. We constantly reinvent our past so that it meshes with our present. We recreate entire homes and outdoor vignettes that we used to inhabit so that we can actively remember being in that space. Places that no longer exist are particularly poignant.

    My parents’ old closet and attic went away when I was 13, but I travel through the door and look at all of the things hanging there and in boxes almost every week just to prove to myself that it once existed. I look up and see my father’s old eagle scout uniform that I had never seen him wear. I see the boxes with tons of craft items thqt we would never play with because we got too old. I see the open insulation on either side of the attic that I was both terrified of and excited by. The window that no longer exists looking out into our neighbor’s second story. It was always cold to the touch and a little bit voyeuristic. This place now only exists as a virtual world, an invented space that only I can explore.

    I started thinking about these kinds of memories in terms of spaces that will never exist, like online schools or online stores. These places aren’t buildings that were once tangible. They started off as part of the ether. What kinds of memories are created in those spaces that never really had back corners or idiosyncratic hallways? Is there anything that you can remember about those spaces that isn’t completely isolated and solitary. Each one of the experiences of shopping or learning was done from the comforts of your own home or out at the library or wifi hotspot. You may be able to remember the curriculum or the items purchased, but there isn’t a space that speaks to you when you run across it again.

    How Can we be nostalgic for places that don’t exist?

    It makes me wonder if we need to be letting ourselves craft the virtual spaces as concretely as we can and build our own back alleys and hidden compartments of learning and consumerism. What would happen if we provided one another the keys to the front door and we said that everyone should come in and start building the rooms that we need to make the space real. What if everyone could sketch and draw and create a single wall, locker or room that they would be able to invite others to come into and co-create?

    I believe that anyone who takes part in creating the world around them will remember it better and engage in it more completely. We will start to see more informed consumers and learners simply because they have marked up their own little piece of the ecosystem.

    This is not a gimmick. This is about how the future of our world will be concocted. If we are simply going to let the physical spaces fall away because they are more inconvenient than anytime and anywhere, thee must be something that we are replacing them with which allows us to remain engaged with some aspect of design and ownership. If we are seeing the end the school hallway, we must have other ways to engage in that social space without resorting to Facebook only. We need spaces that are inhabited by both adults and kids, which both can co-author.

    Graffiti isn’t optional; it is a birthright.

    We need to show others how awful it would be to feel nothing for how we learned or where we shop. Those are the places that we connect with one another and share stories. Those are the places that we must remain human.

    We can do things more efficiently, more quickly, and perhaps even more effectively by doing them online. But if we don’t create the spaces to go along with them, we have done a huge disservice to our own future.

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    Question 218 of 365: How crippling is indecision?

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    In the midst of trying to figure about a direction for work, for passion, and for sanity, I find myself crippled with indecision. I find myself able to do lots of research and quite a little bit of planning, but pulling the trigger seems to be maddeningly out of grasp.

    I am spending so much time exploring possibilities, I’m not sure that I will have time to pursue any of them. Everything is about skating on the surface. I am afraid of diving in too deep.

    I’m not apprehensive about choosing the wrong thing. I’m worried about not being able to still have all of these possibilities laying in front of me. I’m worried that by choosing one, all of the other ones will just float away.

    And I don’t want them to.

    I want to be indecisive for a moment and procrastonate into a stupor.

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    Question 217 of 365: Who spilled?

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    12-ounce Dr Pepper can sporting the new logo
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    I have always been pretty clumsy. I didn’t know how clumsy until I met my wife. She has a way to showcase nearly every one of my falls and mishaps. She does this by not falling and bumping into walls and tripping herself up. By contrast, I look like an uncoordinated version of the hunchback of Notre Dame.

    On one particular evening, I was quietly drinking diet Dr. Pepper while my wife was helping her friend put together shawls for a wedding. As I went to put down my drink, I found a way to bat it up in the air and spray all of the soda on the room around me. The soda hit it’s mark on the shawls quite nicely. Everyone was thrilled.

    I found that in that moment I was utterly responsible for spilling out what I had to ruin what other people were working on. We were able to salvage those shawls, but there was nothing we could do to fully get rid of that sweet syrupy smell of soda.

    It makes me wonder about other spills that we make. We are clumsy in our attempts to hold on to our own ideas. We let the least tactful thoughts fly out of our hands and land on what others are working on. We practically spray our ideas on reform or lean development out with little regard for when and where they may be mow useful. We have a scattershot approach to change because we let our clumsy natures take over our better judgement.

    I don’t know the answer to making change and traction a bigger part of our lives, but spilling isn’t it. Each new idea should be sipped at and swallowed, savored and supplied as real solutions for real problems (being thirsty for doing things better).

    I guess I am just trying to pledge myself to being less clumsy, to taking my time with each hold of he cup. I may not ever be as graceful as my wife, but with a little luck, I won’t have to apologize and clean up the mess every few days when I have my next spasm of drink shaking ideas. I’m okay just to hold on and sip for now.

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    Question 216 of 365: What are the right triggers?

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    Tic tac toe.
    Image via Wikipedia

    I’ve been thinking a lot about if-then statements. Those little representations of causality that seem to crop up everywhere. If one thing happens then another will transpire. It is the easiest relationship to understand, far easier to get than the complex political or emotional relationships that populate the rest of our lives.

    I first learned about them when I was learning how to program in high school. To me, they seemed like the most inelegant but simplest way of solving problems. When we were asked to develop a tic tac toe game that could play against the code of my peers, I wrote my code as a series of if-then statements, trying to figure out every possible situation and prepare what its reaction should be. As it turns out, I didn’t prepare for every situation because my code broke. I lost because other people didn’t write if-then statements, but rather elegant algorithms for strategy.

    What I learned: if-then statements only work if you know all of the ifs.

    More recently, I see if-then statements every day with my children. If they eat their dinner, then they can have dessert (if it’s a dessert night that is). If they hit one another, they go to time out. It isn’t as if I am trying to program them for every situation, but I am trying to ingrain the causal relationship of their actions into them. I know, though, that this relationship is made up. It is one that I am enforcing because I want them to understand the consequences of making bad choices. Those choices, however, are not really tied to the result. Healthy food does not lead to dessert for everyone. Some people don’t go to timeout for hitting; some people are rewarded for it ( like boxing or self-preservation).

    What I am learning: If-then statements work best when you can control the then.

    Today, I started writing some if-then statements of my own. I created a workflow that allowed me to email my computer at work and have that computer take a screenshot and email it back. All I needed were a couple of well thought out if-then statements and some really good triggers. You see, I needed that workflow to initiate all of the if-thens only once I triggered that I wanted it to happen. I needed to figure out what the first domino should be that would set off the reaction. The causal relationship only goes so far; the trigger is what makes it all happen. I needed to find a great trigger that I could do remotely and would allow me to validate that it was me supplying the request. Email was the only thing that met all of the requirements.

    I will continue to learn: A good trigger is worth a hundred great if-then statements.

    The greatest triggers are those that allow us to focus our attention on a single spot. They are so exacting that whole new sets of possibilities open up. They must be simple. They must be accessible. They must be choices that a child could make or a seasoned veteran of business. They must be like email or SMS, that do not require definition before implementation.

    (This is why Google Wave failed. The trigger to take part was never there. There were lots of wonderful if-then statements in the middle filled with collaborative back and forth and use cases that was pretty engaging. The trigger, though, to go and spend time there was nonexistent. Without the simple push into and reason for starting a Wave, it was doomed to fail.)

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    Question 215 of 365: What happens when languages are made irrelevant?

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    A logo similar to google chrome
    Image via Wikipedia

    This situation now exists:

    Google Chrome senses when a webpage is written in another language and it translates it on the fly into the language of your choice. Google Docs does the same thing with collaborative documents. This means that a great many barriers are removed from creating, researching, and aggregating information from anywhere.

    It also does a couple more things. It makes the teaching of languages nearly impossible in the ways we have done it previously. It also makes us all language experts.

    With easy access to automatic translation tools, there is so little incentive for students who are taking online classes or working on homework to translate their own work. More that that, we can no longer simply take a pass on information if it is written in a different language. We can’t only make collaborations with those that speak our native tongue. We are now responsible for working with others from around the world and not feeling the limits of our mono linguistic obsessed society.

    So, now that this situation exists, what does it mean?

    It means that we can’t do online translation exams. We can’t hire professionals only for their ability to convey meaning from one language to another. We can’t focus all of our energy into the things that a single piece of software can accomplish in a mater of seconds.

    The alternative is to start expecting more.

    Rather than quizzing students on their ability to translate, we need to ore sent them with situations where they would actually have to collaborate to create a working document in both languages. They should be responsible for working with a native speaker of that other language and crafting pieces of writing that demonstrate the ability to fix automated translations. They should create novels and do research and create web pages that chronicle the real work of language experts. And those experts, now that they are everywhere, must do more, too. The real expertise will now be in the language of communication and not static information. We must find the ways in which people are being people (instead of machines) and then translate that into the language of action as well as other more official languages.

    I have a lot of hope that people will use these incredible new tools to good use, but I have a feeling that most will want to shut them out and block them off in order to maintain the same instruction and jobs. The only way to face this technological wonder, is to face it head on and adapt. I hope we are up to the challenge.

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    Question 214 of 365: What changes everything?

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    I don’t often make proclamations that I believe to be true for everyone. I don’t do this because I know that there is a high likelihood of me being wrong. So high, in fact, that I feel as though it would undermine my credibility as an expert on much of anything. However, for this I will make an exception.

    There are two things (and two things only) that are required to create radical positive change:

    1. Knowing that you are not the only expert in the room.
    2. Never submitting or asking for the submittal of a piece of paper.

    I didn’t realize that I held those core beliefs until yesterday. In a convsation I was having, I tried to summarize the main things that I try to get across whenever I speak in public and those are the two things that came out of my mouth. I didn’t realize how true they were until they were both out. I didn’t realize that I had been working toward them for years until they fell at my feet.

    The reason I am writing this is to proclaim that I am not the only expert. I write this to be a part of what has come before, and to build upon it. I am on Twitter because I know that there are others that will give me great context and ideas and whole labors of love that they are contributing to the world. I work so that I can learn, and I play and publish so that I never forget what it is like to be a part of something bigger and more engaging than the endless monologue going on in my head.

    And if in any meeting, classroom, or board room the participants will simply grant to the other people in the room and those following along via digital means that they are not the only ones with value and substance, there is no limit to what can be accomplished.

    I am not talking about the wisdom of crowds. The revolutionary aspect of believing that you are not the only expert in the room comes in simply being humble enough to listen to others. You do not have to accept or believe in what they say. You may even find yourself rejecting their premises, but to simply listen for a moment to the other experts changes the ways in which decisions are made. It isn’t by consensus or by committee, decisions are made with the best expertise available, no matter what the source. If it is a 12 year old or a seasoned professional, knowing that there are other experts in the room and giving them a voice is the only way to move forward.

    The other belief is counterintuitive. If we are listening to all experts and being humble in our approach, surely we should accept paper submissions. Surely we should allow those who still use paper as their means of transmitting information to take part in creating value. To this I say: No.

    The act of removing paper from the equation as a submission format is not meant to save trees, although it might do that. It is not meant to focus everyone on technology, although it may do that as well. Disolving the transmission of paper is responsible solely for disrupting expectations, and exploding what is possible.

    Paper isn’t about ease of use, it is about making concrete and singular the things that would rather be abstract and collaborative. Anything that is written down is held in one place and one time. This is special, and we should treasure it. But it is one thing, and it can only be that. By submitting that piece of paper, you are dictating all that it can be. By asking for someone to submit a piece of paper, you are limiting what you can receive.

    And some will say that we need to limit submissions. We need ot have signatures that can only be that. But submission of a signature that is not tied to the one piece of paper means that we can find that signature elsewhere. We can string together all of the documents with that scrawling across the bottom, and we can start to tell a story through tagged contracts.

    This is a shallow look at revolution. But take a look at the alternative:

    Those that disagree with the two above statements as the catalyst for change could be defined as Paper Experts. They are experts that are only backed up by the paper that defines them (diplomas and letters of recommendation). In every submission of paper to others, they are proclaiming their value (every report, handout, and printed email). In every request for paper they are trying to hold on to power (jumping through legal and beurecratic hoops for signatures and documents requests). Their paper expertise is static. They do not hqve the power to expand their knowledge into a network of experts because networks are not made out of paper. And, they are certainly not made out of people who proclaim their value above all others in the room.

    So, if we want to move beyond being Paper Experts, we must acknowledge publicly every time we speak that we are not the only voices in the room worth listening to. We must honor this in our actions as well by leaving time to listen and protocols to support that effort. We must also stop giving people the option to submit pieces of paper as proof of their knowledge and expertise. We must stop asking for drafts to be marked up. We must stop making copies so that we can further devalue the precious comodity of original creqtive thought. If something is worth sharing, it is worth sharing in open communication. If something is worth submitting, it is worth publishing to those who need the information. If something is worth making, it is worth exposing to the light of day.

    I do not take these words lightly. I understand the gauntlet I have laid out for myself. I just know that it is something I started a long time ago by learning from students and allowing them to turn in their essays on a blog. I guess they are still teaching me.

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    Question 213 of 365: Where is the asterisk?

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    Asterisk
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    I have never understood infomercials. While they may be fun to watch or poke fun at every once in a while, I have never for a moment wanted one of those products bad enough to want to “call and order right away.” I know that there probably is a market for the products that they are selling, otherwise they wouldn’t be so ever-present. I just never could see myself as their target audience. I always just assumed that their target audience weren’t the type of people who looked for an asterisk. They weren’t the folks who really paid attention to the fine print or the incredibly fast talking at the end of every infomercial that explained just how different actual results and the results on the television could be. I have always looked for and listened to such things, even if I did not head their advice.

    I first started looking for asterisks when I bought a super long range frisbee called the Arobe (or something like that). It claimed to be the farthest reaching frisbee in the world. I learned very quickly that this claim was pretty false whenever I threw it. Sure, it went farther than most of the frisbees I had thrown, but it was all in who was throwing it that made it a world record holder. I couldn’t propel the thing much further than the length of my parent’s lawn.

    That first asterisk led me to be skeptical of nearly every claim that came after, including those infomercials. But, I have been noticing a severe lack of asterisks in the claims that people are making every day now about their value and their contributions. For example, there are almost no asterisks in either the Android or Apple app stores. The apps do what they claim to do, except when proven otherwise. There are no claims of “your results may differ” when it comes to describing or creating the new “killer app.” And frankly, without the healthy dose of skepticism that I have learned from buying frisbees and watching over the top infomercials, I would be buying a whole lot of crappy ideas and applications.

    I would like to start seeing asterisks at the bottom of blog posts and news articles with the biases of the author. I would like to start seeing them crop up as links to opposing viewpoints. To me, the web is one big claim that each idea holds the same amount of truth as the next. Every site is proclaiming to have the right information or the right tool or the right context to fit your needs at the moment. But, without an asterisk on each on of those proclamations, there isn’t anything that can be said to be fully true.

    It is the asterisks that make our claims believable. While they may not be entirely convincing with them in there, it is what makes it okay to go out on a limb and state fantastic successes without being delusional. The asterisk is what gives us the freedom to go from ingredients to finished product without having to show all of the steps in between. And yet, the asterisks are so implied online that we forget that they are there at all.

    Twitter is not a life stream. (at least not without an asterisk that leaves room for all of the times that are not spent tweeting).

    Wikis are not completely democratic (at least not without an asterisk that leaves room for all of the edit wars and bias of any given article.)

    News websites do not have the definitive version of the news (at least not without an asterisk that leaves room for citizen journalism).

    Comments and Web Traffic are not the measures of success or importance (at least not without an asterisk that leaves room for quiet authorship and appreciation that goes beyond simple popularity).

    You get my point. The missing asterisks online are too numerous to count. And I would like to start seeing them pop up so that we can proclaim loudly that “results may vary”, even online*.

    *I would like to state my bias for this post. I do not believe everything I read online, but I know a lot of people who do. I look down on those people, and in that sense, I am an elitist.

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