In praise of quick and dirty: when the pursuit of excellence is the enemy of success

Increasingly I believe that we in the media business doom ourselves by our devotion to quality. Before you get out the gunpowder, let me explain myself. I love excellence. Awesomeness is, well, awesome. But the premature pursuit of excellence can kill you.

I'm going to pick on my friend Howard Owens as an example, and I hope he won't mind. Howard is a multi-talented guy, but he is no Roger Black or Mario Garcia. He runs a website called The Batavian in upstate New York.

The site's design is adequate. It's not beautiful. It's not stunning. It could easily be both beautiful and stunning, because both Roger and Mario do beautiful and sometimes stunning design work, and they can be hired.

So Howard could run to his bank, take out a big loan, hire somebody like Roger or Mario to do the design, then hire some contract programmers to convert the design into a website theme, and make his website presentationally excellent.

So why doesn't he do this? Because there's no ROI. No return on that investment. In fact, that investment would likely crush his business.

The unpleasant reality of business is that it's all about money. If you're going to try to build a new business, you'd better obsess about your pennies. And here's the thing: If you divert energy, time and money away from the things that count and into things that please you but don't count very much, you will fail.

If the typical media company sets out to do something new, the process usually follows this pattern:

  1. A committee is formed.
  2. The committee looks at a lot of work other people have done (benchmarking).
  3. Many lists of features and functions are made.
  4. Committee members attempt to draw examples.
  5. Someone comes to their senses and brings in an actual designer.
  6. The designer creates sample designs.
  7. The committee critiques the designs.
  8. The committee debates at length and demands changes in pursuit of conflicting visions of excellence.
  9. If not totally fatigued, GOTO line 6.
  10. Now that the design process has been halted by fatigue, the implementors are brought in.
  11. It is discovered that the arbitrary design doesn't respect the realities of implementation.
  12. Much time and energy disappears into the implementation work.
  13. The committee continues to invent new ways to make the product better and interrupts the implementation with the new really-great ideas.
  14. If not totally fatigued, GOTO line 12.
  15. Key features and functions are cut because the project has taken far too long and is way over budget -- if there was a budget.
  16. The new product is pushed into production.
  17. The company begins to discover whether the whole idea was brilliant, disastrous or somewhere in between.
  18. It's somewhere in between -- but it has no chance of covering its development costs.

The guys from Harvard Business School, which of course is devoted to excellence, will tell you this is a path to your doom. In fact, they have already told you that. And it's not exactly a new concept in the world of software development, either.

So why do we keep doing it?

Because we care, and because we want to do the right thing, and because "good enough" just seems wrong. We're motivated by what Daniel Pink calls "challenge and mastery," and mastery has to do with excellence.

The startup guy possessed by what he thinks is a Big Idea will follow a shorter path. If he has the skills, it will look like this:

  1. Look at what other people have done (benchmarking).
  2. Make some notes.
  3. Grab cheap, free, off-the-shelf tools.
  4. Put together a rough working prototype.
  5. Launch.
  6. Gather real-world results.
  7. Modify the product.
  8. If not either rich or bankrupt, GOTO line 6.

He doesn't follow this shorter path because he doesn't care about quality or excellence. He does it because he's desperate and doesn't want to starve.

If you're paying really close attention, you'll notice that lines 6 through 8 aren't in the big media company's process. That's a shame, because they're the important ones. Pre-launch business plans are always wrong. Or at least almost always. You can't argue your way to success in a committee meeting, or design your way to success on a whiteboard. You have to execute and iterate.

Quick and dirty doesn't have to mean ugly, or badly implemented, or sloppy. We have within our grasp today cheap and free tools that make it easy for a nimble developer to do work that is awesome and excellent without breaking the bank. But we have to be on guard against the seductiveness of excellence, and always keep our focus on the reality that doing the wrong thing really well won't lead us to success.

 

 

The Web is not dead, but many wish it so

With an inflammatory headline and a misleading graphic, Wired has declared the death of the World Wide Web. This is nonsense, but many wish it were true, and the piece is worth reading as a starting point, just not a conclusion.

Plenty of publishers rue the invention of the Web. It has demolished barriers behind which publishers had built comfortable businesses. Customers have become competitors, business models have been demolished. The Web's empowerment of everyone has included bigots, hatemongers, professional and amateur liars, and terrorists. It's all so messy.

Those with power always seek to retain and increase it, so it should come as no surprise that corporations like Verizon and Comcast and individuals like Steve Jobs and Rupert Murdoch want to create a future where they can decide what's available, to whom, and how it works. Their digital future would be built on approved applications sold in controlled, closed-system markets, delivered over private networks prioritized by economic power, throttling independent voices and open competition. They have on their side armies of lobbyists and millions of dollars in political donations, so don't expect your elected representatives to leap to the defense of the troublesome Web.

One of the few advantages of getting older is historical perspective. I can remember when telephone companies wouldn't let you plug anything into "their" network. Not your own telephone. Not an answering machine. Not a computer modem. It took intervention by the Federal Communications Commission, acting on behalf of regular people, before that practice was stopped. It's not clear that the FCC has the inclination and the ability to take such action today.

Anyone who says the "invisible hand" of the marketplace ensures the rights of individuals in such matters is a fool or a liar. It simply doesn't work that way. Read the gray-ink fine print of your broadband service contract. Do you really have the right to use that connection, or just an obligation to pay for it? What does it say about operating a server? Are there vague and arbitrary restrictions on how much data you can transfer? If you've been sold a data speed rate, is there any guarantee that you'll get it? And if you don't like the terms, do you really have options? Is there an open marketplace? If there's an invisible hand, what's it doing?

Why we have laws about business practices

I was poking around in the Library of Congress photo database and ran across these Lewis Hine photos of children who worked at the cotton mills in Augusta, Ga.


A doffer boy in the Globe Cotton Mill, January 1909

They're a stark reminder of why we have government regulation of business practices. Corporations have no heart, no soul, no conscience and no values. Lawless capitalism leads to scenes like these.


Child workers outside the Enterprise Mill, January 1909


Eunice Hadwin earned 75 cents to $1 per day as a spinner. When photographed, she already had been working for five years.


King Mill workers lived in these conditions in Gregtown, an Augusta neighborhood

Lest we feel too complacent -- after all, haven't we abolished child labor? -- consider that globalism has simply exported the problem to countries with weak regulation. Next time you pick up a pair of $75 jeans at the mall, think about who did the cotton spinning, denim weaving, cutting and sewing. And it's not just children, of course; the Chinese worker who assembled your Apple iPhone may have committed suicide over working conditions.

Algorithmic layout: Another thing the visual journalists are going to hate

Ever since we began using computers to handle news -- which is probably a lot longer than you think -- there has been a notion of automating the processes of laying out pages. Long before InDesign, long before Quark, long before Pagemaker there were attempts to apply algorithms to news, to sort and arrange and place items on pages without humans driving every detail of the process.

Some of them were pretty naive. Somewhere in a dusty corner of my memory, probably from the late 1970s or early 1980s, is the voice of an indignant editor reacting to some computer geek's assumption that longer stories were more important than short ones, so story length could be used to determine layouts.

News judgment is far more complex than that, of course. But let's be honest: It's not infinitely complex, and any news editor knows that there are predictable patterns that handle most page layout.

On the Web, we've embraced algorithmic layout from the earliest days. We use templates. We flow content into a limited number of highly formatted containers. We're so automated that the very possibility of overriding standard designs becomes a revolutionary act.

As print continues to decline (and make no mistake: it will), you're going to see a collision between these two worlds.

Print designers want total control over arbitrary layout. The makers of tools for print designers -- especially Adobe -- will be trying to cram their toolkit into digital bottles. Adobe's plan for the iPad was to use InDesign for page layout, generating Flash components that would be compiled into a downloadable app. Now that Apple has killed Flash on the iPad, magazine designers are making iPad "applications" that are really collections of giant JPG files generated by print tools.

Image files! No wonder the apps are so huge. It's like a flashback to the mid-1990s, when the New York Times homepage on the Web was one big GIF file.

Here's my prediction: Algorithmic layout is going to win. The economics are brutal and they will decide.

We already have Gannett moving its newspaper layout work to central "Production Centers" -- hospices for print. My friends in the visual journalism community hate hate hate this. I understand why. I laid out newspaper pages for years. Decoupling product construction from reporting and editing the news is not something to celebrate. But I also understand the economic drivers behind it.

The entities formerly known as newsrooms -- Gannett calls them "Information Centers" -- will oddly enough be more closely coupled to their websites than their print products. Their world will be inverted. They will be paying more attention to metadata -- classification, tagging, geocoding, the elements of the semantic Web.

When you do this right, you create the conditions necessary for efficient algorithmic construction of a broad set of products tailored for specific situations. Web pages. Apps for the iPad. Mobile services. Microzoned products, defined by geography or interest or the user's current status, delivered via electronic or even print processes, but "finished" with fairly little human involvement in the "pages" that are consumed.

None of this suggests that visual journalists aren't important, or that design isn't part of storytelling. But we need to be much more judicious about where and how we expend these resources. As I've often said, a well-designed system allows the human override of default behaviors, but does not require human intervention. Focus your design energies where they will pay off. That's the best outcome we can hope to see from the collision of these approaches.

Don't drink the mind poison, and don't believe Fox

There was a time when American journalism was the gold standard of the world. We created the world's first journalism school. Newspapers and, later, broadcasters all over the world looked up and tried to emulate our practices. But no longer.

I've traveled the world quite a lot in the last 10-15 years. I've read local newspapers and watched TV news in places where journalism once was illegal -- Moscow, St. Petersburg, Prague, the former East Germany. Around the world I've seen the influence of the American tradition, and it is a powerful force for good.

Then came Rupert Murdoch.

We live in an open society. Usually what immigrants contribute to American culture enriches us all. But Rupert Murdoch, immigrant from Australia, has injected into American journalism a vile corruption, a willingness to abandon the truth and embrace falsehood when it's convenient and profitable.

Murdoch is a smart and ruthless businessman, and he's used his skills to create a highly successful national TV network. He's taken over newspaper after newspaper, culminating in wresting control of the Wall Street Journal from the Bancroft family. And he's put together a 24-hour cable news channel that could have been an awesome force for good ... but instead has become a source of poison pumped right into the heart of journalism and American democracy.

My disgust with Fox News is not political. I'm not offended that opinion is being mingled with facts. I'm offended that opinion is being constructed on top of fabrications, inventions, falsehoods, lies.

The most recent and most egregious example, the libelous attack on Shirley Sherrod of Athens, Georgia, is just part of a series from a pseudo-news organization that has become part of an assembly line producing mind poison.

Let me be perfectly clear. This is not about left and right. It's about right and wrong.

Here's how the assembly line works. Someone invents a lie. The lie gets passed around among liars, growing and getting momentum. Fox News then gives it a big ride into orbit. Talking points are distributed to TV hosts, TV guests, politicians and bloggers. The chorus gets louder and louder. Soon it makes no difference whether it's true or false, because the poison is so thoroughly injected into the civic conversation that permanent damage has been done -- to individuals, to organizations and institutions, and ultimately to America.

It's like Henry Ford's factory. No one person actually builds the car. Everybody just adds a bolt here, a nut there. And there are plenty of nuts.

Andrew Breitbart, the blog network operator who posted the deception in the Sherrod case, can feign innocence. Somebody else edited the video. He never saw the whole speech. Fox News can feign innocence. It just reported on the controversy. Somebody else is always at fault.

There are legitimate journalists working at Fox, trying to practice actual journalism in a corrupt vessel, but that only makes this more tragic. People, get out. Find an honorable job.

Beware the black swans

When I put together my ten good-enough predictions, I didn't toss in any flying cars or Mr. Fusion generators. Everything I mentioned already exists; I'm just making reasonable guesses about adoption.

Here's what you can't predict: black swan events. A black swan event is by definition unexpected, unanticipated, rare and high-impact. A black swan event represents discontinuous change. It's so named because all swans were long believed to be white, and the discovery of black swans in Australia in the 17th century shook the scientific world.

In 1993, a lot of us believed we were on the cusp of great change in the world of media, but the form of that change was unclear. Online services were growing at mind-boggling rates.

The future seemed to belong to Compuserve, Prodigy, America Online, Delphi and similar services that were heavily recruiting traditional media companies to put their content into paid-access services. Those of us working on digital projects thought that would be the black swan for the print world.

People like Harley Manning at Prodigy and David Rollert at Ziff-Davis had grand designs for slick and beautiful applications that users would purchase and download onto their computers, gaining access to bundles of content and services for which they presumably would pay. Fearing it would miss the revolution, Microsoft poured millions into development of its own platform, codenamed Blackbird, that would change the world.

Then came the real black swan.

When nearly everyone believed these bundled services were the future, something happened to the Internet, which had been around for years as a research and educational network. The change was small but the results were huge: a general ban on commercial usage simply evaporated.

I was in Minneapolis at the time, working on an online project with a slick, downloadable app that people would pay for.

In early 1993, there was only one provider of Internet service -- a nonprofit co-op closely tied to the supercomputer technology community. By the end of 1994, there were more than 110 little entrepreneurial Internet service providers. Telnet and Gopher were replaced by Mosaic and the World Wide Web. Tripod and Geocities were enabling anyone to be a publisher.

A black swan had destroyed the world of scarcity, eliminated barriers between people and publishing, and demolished all the "content is king" plans of traditional media companies that assumed they would rule the new digital world.

Everything had changed. And here we are, some 15 years later, still trying to figure it out.

We may be on the cusp of another discontinuous change, another black swan. If so, then the more certain we are of the future, the more wrong we will be. What do smartphones and tablets mean? Disaster, if you're Microsoft. But do they create a black swan event for media companies? We can only guess.

Ten good-enough predictions about tech, media and news

One wall of my office is covered with notes and diagrams trying to divine the future. Nobody can get it right, so I'm actually not worried about that. What's important is to generate views that are useful and helpful in planning. In that spirit, I thought I should share a few "predictions" and see what you all think. I'm thinking of the period 2015-2018. It's close enough to be real, but far enough to give the imagination some running room.

  1. Tablet-like experiences will achieve parity with computer-like experiences. I'm counting future "smartphones" as tablet-like, not just the note/slate size, and referring to usage on the network, not simply having one in your pocket or bag. Computers with keyboards are not going away, certainly not anytime in the near future, but designing for the tactile experience of tablets and touchscreens will be at least as important as any other form of information presentation design.
  2. Voice interfaces -- recognition and synthesis -- won't dominate but they will become a serious part of the mainstream. Piping that data through realtime translators will begin to make the Star Trek Universal Translator real. And it'll keep the gang down at the NSA amused.
  3. Computer chips won't get much faster in clock speed. Instead, the multicore processors that emerged over the last decade will sprout more cores, shrink in size and power consumption, and push their way from the desktop down into tiny devices.
  4. Networking costs will drop and mobile usage will soar. If you thought we had an information surplus and a lack of scarcity in 2010, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Everything really will be everywhere. McLuhan would recognize the network as an extension of the mind. Old fogeys will continue to complain about a loss of quality, how the world has gone to hell, and how you kids should get off the lawn.
  5. Apple, Google and Amazon will be big winners. Microsoft, Yahoo and any company that behaves like a newspaper will be big losers.
  6. Your media experience won't be tied to a device -- it'll be tied to your identity. Current state will live in the cloud and you won't know or care where the data is stored. Quit reading or listening on one device, switch to another, and pick up where you left off. Your pocket screen, tablet, 28-inch desktop display and 55-inch wall "television" are all portals into a single experience.
  7. Radio, television and print won't go away, but they'll be pushed to the margins. Real-time "channels" will still exist and be significant as discovery venues, but they'll be in the minority in terms of usage.
  8. All your devices will be location-aware. All your devices will recognize and network with each other without configuration hassles. All your experiences will become personalizable based on your preferences, your behaviors, your location and your current activities.
  9. Having lost their role as discovery media, any print or print-like "newspapers" that survive will have adapted to focus on other roles, such as explanation, briefing, and entertainment.
  10. "News" will no longer be a good label for the work done by any surviving "newsrooms," as networked word-of-mouth will have stolen nearly all of the "breaking news" function from professional journalism. Smart "editors" will focus on understanding, which they will support through facilitating and providing context, analysis, explanation and debate, and perhaps re-embrace civic action.
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