Live by the list

The most useful advice I received on office productivity may also be the most obvious: Live by the list. This was the advice, word for word, of my first boss in a professional position; who was confronted by my disorganization and lack of progress. It has been a key to productivity for me ever since - as it has for so many. It is, of course, the most basic element of time management.

I remember seeing some time ago a related comment by David Koch, who was asked in a TV program his key to success: his odd answer being "routine". Both bits of advice, on first blush, seem a certain recipe for an uninspiring life: lacking in originality, spontaneity and creativity. My experience; however, seems to refute this, which is surprising. Why does keeping lists and maintain a routine lead to greater, not lesser, experience and expression of life?

My tentative answer is that keeping a "task list" is a potent way of focusing yourself on creating good habits and avoiding bad habits. By working only on items from the list, we create discipline in habits and (naturally) develop a "routine" organized around a personal definition of success. Reorganizing the list, adding items and subtracting items periodically, is where creativity is enhanced because we use consciousness to organize our time, rather than relying on the habits (some good, some bad) that have entrenched themselves over time.

I'm trying to become more disciplined in following my tasks lists and organizing them carefully to develop good habits. Time will tell if this continues to improve my creativity, or whether I'll reach a saturation point where I feel obsessed (and depressed) with these efforts.

You are not the Hero

I'm reading a book on building oral presentations: Resonate. This book advances some familiar advice; in particular the idea of "consider your audience." While this may seem to be so obvious as to be not worth mentioning, it is presented in a way that provided me with some new insight. To paraphrase, the author states "you are not the Hero, the audience IS", and goes on to say that you (the presenter) are more like the "mentor" to the Hero - showing the Hero the path and giving the tools and insights to succeed.

It reminded me of a recent presentation I made where I attempted to connect with the audience by some self-deprecating humor. In short, I claimed to have "stolen" the idea for the research to "advance my own career." While this may have been good for a mild laugh, in hindsight I think it presented "me" as the Hero and not the audience. I failed to consider how the audience should be the center of the presentation, and I'm only the helpful mentor in the background: a bit player, and not the center of the story.

Another useful observation is that I too rarely explicitly consider what I want the audience to "do" with the information I'm providing. Obviously, I would like others to use (and cite) my research, but I haven't explicitly shown at the end of most presentation exactly how others can use their knowledge to be the Hero of the story. In gambling-research, the my audience is often other academics, treatment professionals, industry players,gamblers and government policy makers. Next time, with hope, I'll consider each audience member and provide more of a road map to action - so that the message will not only be heard, but also acted upon.

On being certain

A few months ago I finished a book "On being certain", which I thought I should write something about before I forget my thoughts. It's an interesting read. The fundamental message - although hard to articulate in a limited space - is that knowing your "right" about something (presumably anything) is a "feeling" the emerges at least in part from your sub-conscious mind. The author rejects the idea that there is a rational/logical mind (the conscious) that competes with the emotional/unconsicous mind, which is an idea that dates back at least as far as Plato. Instead, "being certain" that you are right about something (the sun is yellow, 1+1=2, god exists) is always a feeling the emerges from a part of the mind that is shielded from introspective access. We can't think about "why" it is true - we just feel that it must be. This seems at first a bit esoteric, but I think it says something very deep about human thought. We come to accept that things are "true" because we observe that they are consistent with a view of the world that makes sense to us. Thus, if I have 1 apple and "add" another apple, I will have 2 apples. This "makes sense" when someone tells us this fact, because it is consistent with our perceptions.We are certain of this fact - and ultimately other facts - because they accord with a accumulated world-view that we inhert from what we see and what others tell us is true.

When we assess new facts, these are evaluated by our sub-concious mind to see how they accord with the constellation of other facts that we feel to be true. This emerges in the concious thought as a "feeling" of correctness for the puntive fact. This is an observation that is not in the book, but flows logically to me. We don't have introspective access to this process of evaluation, so we cannot know if the new fact is true, but instead get a feeling that it might be consistent with other facts that we had accepted in the past. If this is the structure of thought, it explains the stickyness of our beliefs. We cannot alter one set of beliefs easily without upsetting a delicate balance in our minds of other things that we feel must be true, even if we don't have introspective access to what the constellation of these other beliefs are.