Working Up

by Dwayne Phillips

Keep your earth-shattering new thing quiet for a while. Once it works, shout. This is basic risk management.

Something has never been done before. That means it is difficult. I have a solution. I can do it or I think I can do it.

The best practice, in my experience of doing something or other for the first time, is to keep my mouth shut. Do the work. Make it work. Fly under the radar and keep it quiet.

Once it works, shout!

Since it has never been done before, the work carries risk—lots of risk. All prior efforts have failed. Simple logic shows that my effort will also fail, until it succeeds.

This is risk management. Do the work quietly, but do the work diligently. This isn’t easy, but it can work.

by Dwayne Phillips

Of course software running for the thousandth time works better than some people at some tasks. It has for half-a-dozen decades. Why does this continue to surprise us?

Here is a recent breath-taking story about how AI performs better than doctors at detecting a type of cancer. Of course it does. Put a digital camera on the front end and software running on a computer on the back end. It works better than a human.

The simple reason is the software doesn’t have bad days. The software isn’t tired after a restless night caused by a sick child or worry of a cancer-ridden relative. The software wasn’t in a car accident on the way to work or didn’t have to circle the parking lot for half-an-hour looking for a space.

It has been this way for 50 or 60 years or more. Basic classification algorithms existed long ago and ran on what we would consider to be archaic computers with almost no compute power and memory.

We had these discussions in the 1980s. Expert systems performed better than people. Of course they did. The were not, however, 100% correct. Hospitals stayed away from systems known to be less than 100% because they didn’t want to be sued. Other industries stayed away for the same reasons.

Today, the systems are not 100%, but we accept that now for one reason or another.

Today, we call it “AI” and run supercomputers that slip into our pants pockets. We gasp at the performance. The end of the world is nigh. Well, at least the end of someone’s career is nigh. Old news. Let’s use what we have and move on to some other problem that needs solving.

by Dwayne Phillips

Reducing the time spent typing on the keyboards reduces the number of interruptions. There are new tools that reduce both.

I can type fairly fast. At least I give myself credit for that. Like everyone else, I am interrupted while typing. I could estimate number of interruptions per hour or some rate like that.

The math shows it obvious that one way to reduce the number of interruptions is to reduce the time typing. I should learn to type faster. I really should, but that method of reducing interruptions has its limits, and I am pretty close to those limits now.

Enter a new technology called the large language model and these generative AI tools. What I find in my use is that they reduce typing. I ask questions, a 500-word essay pops out, copy, paste, and edit.

I find the biggest benefit of these tools is the reduced typing. Reduced typing time, reduced interruptions.

Yes, there are problems with these new tools. No, I don’t use them blindly. Yes, they can reduce typing and reduce interruptions. That is a benefit that comes with several noteworthy detriments. Still, it is a benefit. Let’s try to take advantage and reduce interruptions.

by Dwayne Phillips

We have yet more examples showing how remote sensing is difficult. One day, we learn this well enough to anticipate it?

There have been several unmanned craft land on the moon recently. That is a great accomplishment to send something to the moon and have it land soft enough to still function. There is some old saying about any landing you walk away from is good.

Anyways, a couple of the recent unmanned landings on the moon were soft, but, well, uh, not great. One craft landed upside down while another landing sideways, sort of.

I recall the manned landings on the moon in 1969 and the following few years. Those had experienced pilots on board who looked out the window, saw the ground, and made all the adjustments that a person makes when on the scene.

The recent not-so-food unmanned landings were piloted remotely, well, sort of. A type of “auto pilot” guided the vehicles to the surface. Remote control was not possible as the delay in transmission prohibited real-time remote control.

The landings were characterized by a lot of remote sensing. And, well, we know that remote sensing is difficult. I have written on this topic several times before. Remote sensing is STILL DIFFICULT.

Perhaps we will acknowledge that well enough one day to anticipate it. Unmanned spacecraft landing on the moon and other remote bodies depend on remote sensing to work well. That is difficult. That requires a Plan A, a Plan B, and so on.

Flying all the way to the moon is difficult. Landing well via remote sensing is really difficult. It’s that last 100 feet that is critical. Let’s keep trying and let’s do better.

by Dwayne Phillips

To be intentional is to do something that you intended to do. I guess that is better than doing something accidentally or unintentionally. Yet, it has no meaning.

To be intentional is to do something that you intended to do. It is to do something on purpose.

Eating is intentional. I eat because I want to eat; I intend to eat, and I eat on purpose. I am an intentional eater.

Working for a paycheck is intentional. I want a paycheck, so I work. I work on purpose with a goal in mind—a paycheck. I am an intentional worker.

Watching TV is intentional. I watch TV on purpose. I want to watch TV. I am an intentional TV watcher.

All these any many other actions are intentional. I guess I can find something I do that I do not do on purpose.

Hmm, give me some more time. My searching for an unintentional task is quite intentional.

Did I waste enough words intentionally?

by Dwayne Phillips

We reward the fireman, the person who extinguishes a fire. Did the fireman, however, start the fire?

I used to see this often. I worked in a place where engineers would plan projects and deliver systems per their plans. The trouble was: the engineers were terrible planners. They were good system designers and builders, but terrible planners.

The good designers and bad planners would plan projects that would start, finish, and deliver in short periods of time. That was the problem: the periods of time were much too short. The plans were overly optimistic, yet were written in stone. One week into a six-week project, everyone realized that it was a ten- or twelve-week project.

Well, promises had been made. To ask for more time would be to admit a mistake, and mistakes were not allowed. The result was the engineers worked 12-hour days seven days a week to meet the original plan. One engineer I recall cancelled a second honeymoon to meet the plan. These were heroic efforts. Heroes were rewarded like heroes.

But these were firemen arsonists. They set a house on fire (bad plan) and rushed in to put out the fire (12×7 work). They were rewarded for a terrible mistake and then a cover-up of the terrible mistake.

Some of us engineers planned well, worked, delivered, and were never rewarded. We weren’t heroes who worked all those extra, unpaid hours. We planned well, worked the plan, and delivered. We didn’t extinguish any fires because we didn’t create any fires. Only heroic firemen were rewarded as heroes.

I suppose the fireman arsonist still exists. Overly optimistic plans lead to heroic dedication to cover up a mistake. Rewards flow to heroes. Those who plan well are overlooked. I think we can do better. Let’s try.

by Dwayne Phillips

Questions without answers are the easy ones to ask and discuss.

I recently saw a movie about folks building bombs. Large parts of the movie were discussions among scientists and engineers about building devices that kill people, but also save lives by stopping the killing.

Those discussions were easy, much easier than the tasks they had at hand (physics, chemistry, engineering, etc.).

The questions were easy because they had no answers. They could talk and talk and talk all day and no one was right or wrong.

Questions without answers are that way, they are easy because they have no answers. It is easy to talk forever.

Is that what you are doing at work, talking forever about things that have no right or wrong answers? That’s okay for a coffee break, but are you discussing those in meetings? If you are, that is a waste of everyone’s time.

Let’s do better. Table them, “Let’s discuss that at lunch or at the coffee shop before work or the bar after work.”

by Dwayne Phillips

I stumble on something that everyone else in the world has already heard. It is still brilliant.

The only apology is changed behavior.

I heard that on TV the other day. It seems that in various forms, it goes back to ancient times. It was new to me. Still, it is brilliant.

“I’m sorry, I was trying to do good and got confused…”

That is not an apology, that is justification.

“I’m sorry, I will seek counseling and be a better person.”

That is not an apology, that is some sort of bet that I will forget what you did.

“I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. I ask your forgiveness.”

I like that better.

“I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. It will never happen again.” AND IT NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Changed behavior. I like that even better.

by Dwayne Phillips

Some endeavors are so complicated that headaches are expected. Most endeavors, however, have headaches that are caused by the people involved and are unnecessary.

Some endeavors are complicated. That is their nature. Concentration, lots of it, sometimes brings me a headache. I have worked in complicated endeavors and endured the natural and expected headaches.

Then there are endeavors that are not so complicated, but lack of organization and discipline brings headaches. You find yourself balancing on one foot while juggling with one hand and tweaking a knob with the other while holding your dog’s leash with your elevated foot. That is really hard to do without falling and hitting your head on the concrete. Headache.

Hitting my head on the concrete is an unnecessary headache. At my age, I avoid them. Best of luck and call me when you are ready to act like rational adults.

by Dwayne Phillips

It is simple math: the more words presented the more errors present. Rats.

There is a big benefit to brevity: fewer errors.

One way to consider errors is to look at the number of errors per the number of words. Something like five errors per one-hundred words. That is 95% correct and is pretty darn good.

Given 500 words on a typed page, that means 25 errors. Seems like a lot, huh? Well, if our piece of writing is two pages long, that is 50 errors. Three pages? 75 errors.

Aha, a simple way to reduce 75 errors down to only 25 errors: delete two of the three pages.

But, but, and but. No buts. It is simple math. Don’t ya’ just hate simple math? There must be a trick or a catch here, right? Nope. Simple math prevails.

Brevity reduces the number of errors.