The Subtle Art of Floundering
Is a Dorito a complex system?
Anything good I’ve ever made or done has started small. There were no shortcuts, because there was no big goal in mind. No destination tempting me. Just consistency, competitiveness, and a fair bit of fun. All in all, I think specific, long-term ambitions might be a fool’s errand… for at least a few reasons.
Gall’s Law
First of all, there’s a strong argument that anything that’s worth anything came from something simple. Apple computers started out simple. Internal combustion engines were inspired by fire pistons. Liberal democracy is the result of hundreds of rounds of trial and error. And Doritos, with all their 26 Frankensteingredients, originated from the humble tortilla chip.
While a Dorito *might* not qualify as a complex system, it shares a quality with the other examples. All of them would have been impossible to design from nothing.
“A complex system that works is invariably found to have evolved from a simple system that worked. A complex system designed from scratch never works and cannot be patched up to make it work. You have to start over with a working simple system.”
The important part here is making something that works. Easier said than done. Most things don’t work, which is why it’s smart to try a lot of things. Only a few will work, but that’s all you need.
Consider the opposite scenario. When you put all your eggs in one basket and try to design a specific, complicated solution, you get fewer shots at making something that works.
Making something that works is a numbers game, not just a strategy game. Therefore, specification is an overrated approach. An equally productive, if not better method is to make something, anything that works. Then go from there.
Imagining a certain future then reverse engineering it into reality isn’t necessarily a bad strategy. It’s just kind of unnatural and I think most people can’t do it effectively (myself included).
Barbell Optimism
Another reason that specific, long-term ambitions are overrated: it’s easier to predict failure modes than success modes. Strangely, despite that, specific goals are expressed in terms of success, not failure. This is almost always true. I’ve never seen Item 1. Avoid Bankruptcy on a five-year strategic plan. Sadly, I have seen many five-year strategic plans.
There’s a lot to be said for getting specific about managing downside risk and being pragmatic about upside potential. I lost the tweet, but Luca Dellanna said something along the lines of:
“Be generally optimistic about the future, but pessimistic about the things could stop you from getting there.”
The optimism-pessimism spectrum, like the left-right spectrum of politics, is a horseshoe. Take your orientation toward the future far enough in either direction and you get lazy. A blissfully lazy Pollyanna on the one hand, and an anxiously lazy Cassandra on the other. Pas bien, ça.
Like Dellanna mentioned, what you need is a mix:
Specified pessimism to keep you in the race.
General optimism and curiosity to keep you motivated.
Short-term action plans. Traction > direction.
Pragmatism about what counts as success.
Point four is pretty important. There are plenty of ways to “win” in life. No need to shut yourself off from them. That doesn’t mean pursuing a bunch of different goals at once (see point 3). It frees you up to pivot when you find something that works.
How now – What later
Argument three: We choose methods before we choose goals. Karl Weick made a compelling case for this in his book Sensemaking in Organizations. Groups form around common means before deciding on a common end. We like to congregate with people like us – and avoid people that are not like us. It’s only after we squad up that we choose a goal.
Interests, taboos, aesthetics, and skill sets all come before goal setting. Developing specific, long-term ambitions too soon is a recipe for paralysis analysis. It requires too many assumptions about the future, who will be involved, and what they want.
If goals get set before protocols are determined, it seems like the goals are the problem. Then you get stuck in a holding pattern of trying to better define your objectives. More likely is that you don’t have consensus on a method. Practically speaking, it’s much easier to find things you like doing or are good at, then form goals based on that.
In Weick’s model, How and What are cyclical states. Once you’ve settled on a protocol that works, it’s smart to pursue ambitious goals through that protocol. Just try to avoid putting the cart before the horse by being impatient about not having a clear objective in mind.
The main upside of selecting a How that works for you is that you’ll find the process fulfilling, or at least kind of fun. The main downside is that people like to talk about life in terms of goals. The price of traction, in the short run, is legibility.
Mo’ Ooze, Mo’ OODA
“When the going gets tough, the untough lower their expectations.”
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As technology advances, things get increasingly wild. I mean wild in the sense of wilderness – an unpredictable, complex mess of things which doesn’t really care about you. In other words, technology leads to the oozification of previously stable elements of society and the economy.
Things are changing quicker, more often, and less predictably. The world is getting more oozy. This paradigm shift is the fourth reason that specific, long-term ambitions aren’t all that and a bag of chips.
For an organism to be successful, it must contain an accurate model of its environment. The important factors are always changing in an oozified environment. In order to maintain an accurate model, you need more, and faster, OODA loops.
To be clear, this isn’t a recipe for success. Faster OODA loops are merely a prerequisite now. People get mixed up about natural selection. The rule is not “survival of the fittest” but rather non-survival of the non-fit. All that matters is staying out of the bottom ~20%. Everything past that is a bonus.
Anki, Crossing the Chasm, Plagues, Etc.
My last point – there is a whole whack of everyday anecdotes that favor incrementalism.
The effectiveness of Anki, an open-source flashcard app based on the principle of spaced repetition, suggests that we learn best by hyperfocusing on new material, then slowly reducing our exposure to it as it becomes a solid memory.
A similar pattern unfolds in the business strategy book Crossing the Chasm. Firms, supposedly, can capture large swathes of market share by focusing first on one small niche, then repeatedly expanding their services to multiple adjacent markets. Like pins in a bowling alley.
Plagues work like this too, starting with one or two people and taking off from there. No central planning, no goal of a zombie apocalypse, no 100-year plan.
All these precedents give me reason to think that starting small and simple is a criminally underrated strategy. We often get ahead of ourselves designing complex protocols, governance mechanisms, and imagined futures. Sometimes it’s the wise thing to do, but often not.
I’ve regularly found myself better off focusing on chasing down learning opportunities and sharpening my skills, without a clear goal in mind, than I have when making a five-year plan or whatever (sorry, Fordham Law). That kind of goal setting is a powerful exercise but it can easily land you in a quagmire of paralysis analysis.
At least when you’re floundering it counts as a workout.