Working Up

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.

by Dwayne Phillips

Meet me at the big oak tree outside of town at dusk. They said something like that in the old Westerns. It makes sense to still do this.

There was always a showdown or something in the old Westerns. The big oak tree a mile outside of town at dusk. How did they know how far a mile was? I never could understand that. They always made it though.

That big oak tree was a landmark. Everyone knew where it was. Dusk was a specific time. You couldn’t miss it. A specific place and an specific time.

“Let’s discuss our understanding of the requirements Friday.” A specific place (requirements understanding) and a specific time (Friday).

In some respects, that isn’t flexible or agile or DevSecOps or some other recent thing that we’ve convinced ourselves is better. A landmark never moved. There was only one big oak tree a mile outside of town. Dusk was dusk—no flexibility.

The landmark, however, removed a lot variables. All that was left was to discuss the complex items that would lead to a successful endeavor. All those variables out of the way. The landmark is a big eraser, a big trash can, some other metaphor that helps us to great things. Find the landmark and use it.

by Dwayne Phillips

Philosophy and utopia are great until reality punches everything in the nose—philosophically speaking of course.

Philosophical discussions are great. They may stretch the mind to see other points of view or possibilities. They may lead to better ways.

Philosophy, however, is philosophy and not reality. We need to keep that in mind. A recent article shows that some billionaires are once again trying to build a new place where they can live anew without the technical and other debt that exists in all other places on earth. Great stuff—the stuff of dreams and the outcome of some philosophic discussions.

There is one significant problem with the new utopia envisioned: it all comes to an end when someone else drives a column of tanks down Utopia Ave and says, “Your money or your life.”

No, in order to survive in reality, Utopia needs a Utopian Armed Forces or something to defend what it has. The barbarians at the gate will eventually knock down the gate and do what barbarians have done for centuries. They will pillage, plunder, and do that third thing, too.

Philosophical discussions are great. Sometimes reality collides with the outcome of philosophical discussions.

Okay, Utopia needs a lever. Utopia needs knowledge of something that the rest of the planet needs to exist. Utopia can use that lever to keep the barbarians outside the gate. That’s what the Swiss have done, right? No one attacks the Swiss because everyone’s money is in the Swiss banks. Maybe, but the Swiss also have a large, well-trained, and dedicated civilian defense force. The Swiss defense forces are good enough or have a good enough reputation to make invading Switzerland too costly.

Perhaps the next vision of Utopia will have such a lever that philosophers have discussed for centuries. Perhaps not. We shall see.