5 Things You Need To Know This Morning

Filed under: declarations,rants Topics: ,
  1. There are seldom five things you need to know every morning, much less one thing. News articles and blog posts with this title are merely a ploy for page views, praying on your biological Fear Of Missing Out. Stop giving yourself a reason to be distracted from the work that is important—if the news is important, someone will tell you.



    This advice is true every day of the week.


  2. See above.
  3. See above.
  4. See above.
  5. See above.

Fuck this S***

Lexically-speaking, there’s nothing sexy about t*ts and a**.

Regarding written profanity, I don’t understand when writers X-out a few offending characters when they could talk around the idea with rhetorical wit. Profane words, regardless of obfuscation, still mean the same thing; and yet, for some reason, our internal censors let it go. Worse, writers miss an opportunity to impress their readers.

Personally, I’m not irked by dirty words (however salacious) but I am rather annoyed with the lack of creativity in that their scribes couldn’t find a better way to say it whilst maintaining the conservative sentimentality they clearly want to preserve.

It’s incongruous.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with peppering language with profanity, but it’s often uninspired and cliché. I think to myself, “what the fuck is this shit?” (which should provide some insight into my internal monologue’s maturity level). But, that’s the point: idle thoughts are fleeting; print is forever. And, as a writer, I expect others to put a bit more care into what they print than what they’re thinking about in a given moment.

If you’re going to get dirty and gross, be dirty and gross. Use the words the dictionary affords you. And, for those with the talent, make some up. But, in general, don’t be senseless—censoring your language doesn’t soften its meaning, it just makes you look lazy and, I daresay, stupid.

As the editor-in-chief of The Onion once told me:

There’s nothing like a well-timed fuck.

Special thanks to Elizabeth King for inspiring this post. Her tolerance for my asinine banter is very much appreciated. Read her blog.

Learn to Unwind

Don’t fix problems—unwind them.

Humanity’s problem-solving process is demonstrably flawed. When we attempt to solve problems, our first instinct is correct conundrums with fixes. However, fixes tend to ignore the causes and roots of problems. In this manner we treat symptoms, not problems.

I am not talking in abstract: people’s flawed approach to problem-solving shows up everywhere in modern life, ranging from mandatory drug cocktails to automobile design.

Example 1: Drugging the Youth

In recent years there’s been a marked increase of diagnosed personality disorders among students. Students with short attention spans are labeled ADD; those with gobs more energy, ADHD. In response, we medicate—sometimes without option—to “fix” chemically-imbalanced kids.

It’s an easy solution: medicate kids and they’ll behave “normally”. As a society, this is how we addressing the ADHD “problem”. But, we’re actually just treating a symptom.

Consider why a kid might score as ADHD: their energy levels might be out of whack due to a high-sugar and largely high-fructose corn syrup diet, or their physical inactivity might be leading to heightened stress levels, leading to social anxiety and poor behavior. Or, their environment at home might not be ideal.

…or, he might just be an 8-year old who’s extremely curious about the world and explores it on a bike and by poking inquisitively at the dirt. Maybe our idea of normal “order” as it relates to Attention Deficit Disorder is flawed, or that we’re doing things to our kids that cause ADD. Instead of examining this, we seek to medicate. We treat the symptom.

Without looking at the secondary effects of medicating kids (or looking in the mirror, for that matter) let’s look at another example where we treat the symptom instead of the problem—and what probably most people don’t think about as a problem at all.

Example 2: Starting and Stopping Cars

First, let’s reframe a car trip as a set of problems:

As designed, cars transport a certain number of people from one point to another. Since you can’t just put people in a box and expect magic to take you there, there are a number of problems that need solving:

  1. The car won’t move! The problem: it needs to go.
  2. The car is now moving! The problem: it needs to stop.

This is how we fix these problems:

  1. The car won’t move! Let’s spend energy: The engine will get it to move!
  2. The car is now moving! Let’s spend energy: The brakes will get it to stop!

In both instances, we treat each part of the process as a problem needing a unique solution. But, what if we were to reframe it? Let’s think of braking a “un-going”:

  1. The car won’t move! Let’s spend energy: The engine will get it to move.
  2. The car’s is now moving! Let’s give the energy back to the engine and we’ll stop!

You’ve heard this called regenerative braking. While the technology is primitive, the concept is not. Ideally, the transaction cost of moving a person from point A to point B should only require energy to overcome wind resistance and friction. (And even there—futurists will tell you—there’s room for improvement.) We, however, currently spend energy at every step of the process: we treat each stage as a discrete problem to solve, not a discrete problem to undo.

In our minds, starting and stopping are both problems. But, opposed to identifying and treating them like opposing problems where one is the solution to the other, we treat them individually like symptoms. Where the cost could have been simply the cost of initiating and managing the start, stop, and travel friction, our universal solution is pricey and costly at every stage.

In terms of energy output, it seems our cars were primarily designed to expend energy, and secondarily to transport us from one place to another.* Inasmuch, when we “fix” problems by treating its symptoms, we generate new problems to fix. Over time, these problems layer over each other into never-ending abstraction.

Feedback loops

Unfortunately, we’re addicting to solving problems, not undoing them. Our economy is fundamentally based on solving problems and pain points, and common perception is that it’s cheaper to address problems by patchwork than to rethink how problems arose in the first place and undoing the situation.

And, unfortunately, it is. Treating problems symptomatically is easier. It’s easier to describe and easier to act upon and easier to think about with a divide-and-conquer methodology. There are fewer moving parts in each part of the problem, and any externalities created through “solving” the problem are somebody else’s problem, or a problem we can put off until later.

Ultimately, we create more work for ourselves—problems beget more problems, and these ill-conceived “solutions” don’t adequately address underlying problems, if at all. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry once noted, “Perfection is attained, not when there is nothing more add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”

Let’s stop fixing problems and start removing them.

*On that note, hasn’t anyone else found it weird that we take up half of our available roadway in New York City for the storage of empty cars?