Working Up

by Dwayne Phillips

For what it is worth, and I think it is worth much, read or review Orwell’s “Politics and the English Language.”

I didn’t take many English courses in college (just one). While happy, at the time, to skip needless courses, I sometimes regret what I could have learned. Then again, I was young(er).

I was in my late 40s when I first read George Orwell’s Politics and the English Language. I found the content amazing. It wasn’t all original as some of it came from other short and enlightening pieces on writing that I had previously read. Still, Orwell had a way of conveying concepts that cut the heart and mind.

Engineers, like myself, don’t read these types of things. That is probably a great shame. Then again, that may be the reason why engineers “get things done” so often. That argument is left to those who argue those types of things.

At my current age, I have the great urge to require reading of Orwell’s essay over and again and then writing about it to be a prerequisite for college and high school graduation in America. No one has asked me about such, so I doubt anything of the sort will occur. To this day, Orwell is too controversial. His thoughts and writings tend to say, “Look, the emperor has no clothes.”

One of the problems of our day is that it is not the emperor who has no clothes, but those who are supposed to be pointing at the naked emperor who have no clothes.

by Dwayne Phillips

Old metaphors indicate many problems. One result, however, is that they prevent thought. Thinking is a pretty good practice, and I discourage anything that reduces it.

The old metaphor should be avoided. George Orwell wrote about this in his essay on Politics and the English Language. Orwell wrote it much better than I could, so I quote him:

But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves.

Do you have a metaphor? Stop. Think. Write what you wish to convey instead of using the metaphor.

One reason is that pause for thought often causes me to consider the subject of my writing. I learn that I am writing about symptoms and not sickness. Under the symptoms is a real problem. The extra thinking shows me the real problem.

Put away the first piece of writing for now. Write about the real problem and possible remedies.

Hence, the old metaphor can be useful. It can cause me to think, and thinking is something that should rarely be avoided.

by Dwayne Phillips

We can focus on only one thing at a time. That is part of the definition of “focus.” There are ideas for shifting focus that work pretty well.

I can focus on one thing at a time. That is what “focus” means—one thing at a time.

Am I focusing on the problem or the solution? Jump to the solution too quickly, and I probably solve the wrong problem. Stay on the problem too long, and I go no where. Try to focus on both at once, and I just get a headache.

Put the problem on one white board. Put the solution on a different whiteboard (use computer screens or walls or tables or sheets of butcher paper or whatever). The person with the marker stands in front of one whiteboard. Discussion can only be about the topic of that whiteboard. The person can only write on that whiteboard.

The person moves to the other whiteboard. Discussion can only be about the topic of that whiteboard. The person can only write on that whiteboard.

The person moves back and forth between the two whiteboards. The focus shifts from the problem to the solution and back with the person. The discussion follows the shift in focus.

Simple? Maybe. Easy? Maybe or maybe not. Try it.

by Dwayne Phillips

How to you accomplish a big task? One thing at a time. Sorry, I wish there were magic here, but I have yet to see any of that.

I recently removed 6,000 pounds of items from a home. Given each item weighed half a pound on average, that is … a whole lotta’ items.

How do you remove 10,000 or 20,000 items? One at a time. Pick up one item. Remove it. Repeat.

There must be a better way. If there is, I have yet to find it.

I was in the third of four semesters of Calculus in college a few decades ago. The professor explained it something like, “We take a problem we don’t know how to solve, break it down into parts that we don’t know how to solve, and repeat this until we have problems we do know how to solve. Then we start solving.”

This approach of break-it-down and do one thing at a time worked then, it has worked over the decades, and it still works. Seemingly impossible tasks are possible. How do you write 1,526 blog posts? One keystroke at a time. How do you remove 20,000 items? One item at a time.

Magic? I doubt it.

by Dwayne Phillips

If AI wrote this, is that okay? The question isn’t that difficult.

In the past few months, we have all sorts of artificial intelligence or machine learning sites “writing” things for us. Well, this isn’t that intelligent or learned (in my humble opinion), but clever mimicry. Still it is quite useful.

Why do all that typing? Type a question, the software returns a couple hundred words on a general topic. Edit. Finished. The process: ask, edit, finish. No problem.

But can you put your name on that? Did you write it? Did you write it all? Did you write enough of it?

The Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4th, 1776.

There, ten words that I typed. If I had copied those ten words from one of a million places that they appear and pasted them in this blog post, did I write them? Can I claim them? Most importantly, does anyone care?

No. No one cares. It is general knowledge.

Okay, I ask some software a question and it returns 100 or 200 or whatever-hundred words of general knowledge. Do I need to type those words? Do I need to paraphrase and type 90% of those words?

Let’s take a breath. We have dealt with this for a couple of centuries. We quote someone, we give them credit. We quote a result returned by software, we give it credit. Basic stuff, enough written.

But… but what? The general information on a general topic does not make prose. My statement of July 4th, 1776 does not make prose. Any clod or piece of software can spurt words. Let ’em.

Simply write, general information from some-clever-piece-of-software.

We don’t have to write it all.

by Dwayne Phillips

What problems do we want to solve? The simpler are usually the more difficult and more important.

“World hunger,” has been the answer for beauty queens and scholars my entire life. That was the answer to the problem we should solve.

The trouble is, world hunger was solved a hundred years ago. The technology was in place to grow and distribute enough food for everyone on the planet. Let’s move on the the next great problem.

But wait, look at … Yes, there are still people dying of hunger. That happens because some people decide not to distribute food to some other people. Those other people aren’t really people, so feeding those creatures doesn’t matter. There are still some folks who just don’t care about some other people.

What problems do we want to solve? Curing cancer would be a good one. Eliminating blindness or deafness would be good ones.

How about this one: we raise children so that all people value all other people and will distribute food and everything else that is available to everyone who needs it.

Wow. That last one… it’s just too tough to tackle. Let’s focus on something that sounds important but has already been solved—like world hunger.

Let’s not.

by Dwayne Phillips

No one lied, they just omitted some information. There are ways to find the omissions and those things are some of the more important pieces of information we need.

No one lied, they just omitted a few bits and pieces of information. And, oh, if we had those bits and pieces of information we would have understood so much better and done so much better for so many persons.

Information is important. It helps us do better for others. Sometimes, however, it hurts to deliver some information, so we simply don’t mention it. We didn’t lie about anything, we just didn’t say all we knew. That was okay, huh?

Ask context-free questions like,

• “Do you have any more information on this topic?”

That pulls a yes or no answer. Pay attention to the person answering. How much do they pause? Do they stop breathing? Do they look away to avoid answering? Pull more with more questions.

• “Is there something troubling you about this?”
• “Do you wish to talk more later?”
• “May I come see you later to discuss this more?”

There are kind ways to discover the omissions.

by Dwayne Phillips

One of the fundamentals in the engineering of systems and architecture is a “D” word that many loathe in our 21st century.

“Let’s hold off on this until we have to decide,” said a hopeful inhabitant of a post-modern universe.

Yes, there are things that we don’t have to decide until we know more. We should wait on those things that require waiting. Then there is the other 98.6% of the things.

Systems Engineering involves deciding. What are we going to call this? What are the boundaries of this? What are we trying to do? Who are we trying to please? How will we attempt this?

Decisions and deciding. If you are a “J” in the Myers-Briggs world, you decide. If you are an “F” or sometimes feel like an “F” but not always depending on … well, deciding is … what were we discussing?

Sorry about all this folks. To do something often requires deciding on what we are doing to something for someone in someplace at sometime with some method and all those other basic questions.

Don’t want to decide? Try another endeavor. We need lots of folks to try other endeavors.

by Dwayne Phillips

Find the right question. The answer will direct efforts. That is pretty basic, but it seems to work.

The purpose of this blog post is… Well, let me struggle with the rest of that sentence. In my struggles, let me find the right question. How about, “Why would anyone read this?” or “Why is this here?”

I find this to be a useful technique. Ask the right question, think, answer it, work.

• Statement: The purpose of this blog post is…
• Question(s): Will anyone read this? If yes, who? Why would they read this?
• Statement: The Requirements are…
• Question(s): What is the problem?
• Statement: The high-level design is…
• Question(s): In broad, loose terms, what is a solution?
• Statement: The detailed design is…
• Question(s): In precise, concrete, and specific terms, what is a solution?
• Statement: The implementation is…
• Question(s): What works?

The list could continue.

Try the technique. Start with a question instead of a declarative sentence.

by Dwayne Phillips

Let’s step aside from the usual thoughtful post and muse a bit a few days before Christmas.

Sitting in Starbucks as I write these posts, I sometimes see small children pushing open the glass door as they exit. They are as excited when they exit as when they entered. Starbucks has a lot of goodies for those under age five.

And most folks under age five are not as excited about the goodies as they are about going someplace with a special adult.

These small children push the glass door open with their hands. There is a push bar to open the door. That, however, is too high for the average three-year-old. Someone should have put a push bar down low for these children. The children wouldn’t leave their hand prints on the glass. The employees wouldn’t have to be on their knees to clean the hand prints off the glass. That’s a tough job.

Maybe not. After all, the little hand prints down low on the glass door are called a “leading economic indicators.” People, who will one day frequent Starbucks with money and demand for goods, are building fond feelings for the place. They will return.

And is the world worthwhile without the glee of three-year-olds?

One thing I notice is that when one of these happy fellows skips through Starbucks, all the older customers smile. There is something special about being in a place where people smile.

In addition to coffee and wifi, seeing three-year-olds skip with glee is one of the major reasons I come to places like this.