I think I’m coming to terms with my procrastination.

A lot of the time, it looks like I’m fucking about, but I’m really just internalising the problem at hand, and clearing space for it in my brain.

It might look like I’m doing 8 other things. I need to do those 8 other things first, because they’re in the way. They’re taking valuable computation power and memory. Once they’re done, I have space to breathe, and then time to really get excited about the task at hand.

And meanwhile, there’s a background thread going on the whole time, musing over the problem, trying to understand it from a few different directions, decomposing and recomposing it while I answer an email.

Sometimes you have to go make a sandwich before you even start.

Of course, the other half of the time I really am just fucking about.

Which one is it this time? WHO KNOWS.

Last week, Twitter got new management.

Now, I’m not a fan of the new management. But then, I wasn’t a fan of the old management either. Nevertheless, this presented an opportunity to reflect on how I engage with Twitter.

About a year ago, I decided I was spending far too much time doomscrolling, and I deleted the app from my phone. I’ve done this before, but this time it stuck. I keep the browser signed out, too. If I want to check what’s going on on the timeline right now, I have to go to a computer. This means that I rarely check out the timeline. And I do not miss it.

So where’s the value? The value is in the conversations, the mutuals, the shared context we build over years. But at least for me, it’s been diminishing: the value I get out of Twitter now (or even a year ago, pre-deletion) is almost zero. I almost never receive a message from a friend that wouldn’t have been more personal somewhere more private. I see a lot of awful global news, but very rarely do I get some personal news that improves my relationship with someone.

This past weekend, I toyed with the idea of switching on Mastodon (with my own server, because what’s the point of joining someone else’s?) and trying to find my place in a community. I didn’t bother, in the end.

It’s not 2008 any more. The world has changed. It’s become more connected, for better or for worse, and I don’t think the evolution of communication platforms looks like Twitter. I think it’ll be very different.

As for me, I think I’ll keep my Twitter account around, mostly checking in occasionally to see if I have messages, but I’m done with the service. I don’t need it any more.

Perhaps I’ll join Mastodon, somewhere. Perhaps I’ll start my own server with microblog.pub. Mastodon uses the ActivityPub protocol under the hood, and it’s open. You can even write your own software if you want.

But for now, well, I have this blog. It’s not going anywhere. Maybe I’ll write more often. I enjoy it. You can subscribe, you know. The web isn’t going anywhere, and RSS will work until the apocalypse.

And if I want some conversation, perhaps I’ll add some server-side support and implement a Webmention endpoint (which is even simpler than ActivityPub), so your blog can talk to my blog. The way Twitter was meant to be, over a decade ago.

If you want to contact me, I’m sure you can find my email address. No doomscrolling required.

There’s this common trope in startups: “Hire fast, fire fast.”

Every time I’ve heard this, I think, “I could never do that.” And I’ve always wondered if I’m weak, or shouldn’t be in that kind of leadership position. (And, dear reader, I have been in that kind of leadership position, but maybe I shouldn’t have been?)

Recently, I read Rands’ latest article, The Coach and the Fixer. To spoil the article a little (go read it first), at the end, he talks about being unfailingly kind.

And he asks himself, “Is it kind to fire someone?”

Reading this article, it struck me that perhaps it’s alright not to believe in “hire fast, fire fast” as a mantra. Perhaps there are other ways. Maybe it’s perfectly valid to hire slowly, make a commitment to people just as much as they have to me, and only part ways after trying very hard not to.

And maybe that’s not compatible with the model of raising a lot of money very quickly from venture capitalists, and trying to scale before you even start.

If that’s the case, perhaps there are other ways to run a business, too.

In my last venture, I was a little too quick to set aside my values and defer to “expertise” on how to run a successful business. (And yet, the business was not successful.) If there is a next time, I think I’ll cling on a little harder, even if it closes some doors.

It’s possible that in doing so, different doors will open.

This started out as a Twitter thread.

#OneEstimate, or, why your estimates suck and why your stand-ups are boring.

Estimates have a pretty bad reputation at this point, at least in certain circles. (I am sure there is a much wider circle of Agile legionnaires or whatever they call themselves, shouting about how you must estimate every story using only powers of 7 or something, so that management can make plans stretching out to 2031. Fortunately, I don’t talk to those people.)

I agree with most of the arguments put forth by the #NoEstimates crowd and friends. However, while I find estimates pretty much useless for planning and prediction, I do find them useful for discussing a piece of work, with the goal of trying to understand a few things:

1. Do we all agree what we’re working on?
2. Do we vaguely agree on an approach?
3. Can anyone see a simpler way to solve this?
4. Is there anything we don’t know or understand very well?
5. Are there compromises we can make to do less work?

And so, I like estimating, I just don’t like estimates.

In failing to build a company, I have learned many things. Core to all of them is that a company is not a product. Ideas change, products change, people change. We “pivot”, rapidly, relentlessly, sometimes ruthlessly.

Managed well, change is a catalyst. Managed badly, it can be catastrophic.

In this series, I try to explain the various ways in which I failed to understand this, and how I would endeavour to do better next time. You may notice that the style of these posts is more instructive than usual. Remember that these are mostly addressed to my future self, and as such, I am telling myself what to do; you, my dear completionist, can do whatever you want.

I am a millennial, and therefore I want to be friends with all my co-workers. I thrive in a place where we can play a game of table tennis in the break room, talk about listening to covers of metal songs by angry Finns playing the cello, or simply grab a beer (and talk incessantly about beer, because nerdery is not limited to computers). Since working from home, I really appreciate a chat over coffee, even if it is through a screen.

At Prodo, we used to play Dungeons & Dragons every Tuesday night. It was a wonderful way to bond with my team and get to know each other.

And yet, it strikes me now that perhaps I could have seen it as a warning sign, because it was the work event I looked forward to the most.

I worked with lovely people who I consider friends, even if we don’t talk too often nowadays. It turns out that doesn’t make a company.

Perhaps if I’d invested that energy into pair-programming more with the developers, or trying to push for a product that customers loved, things might have gone better.

Friendship is excellent, but don’t mistake it for doing a good job; we can do that and still clock out at 5pm every day. We don’t need to drink together to be able to work together on system architecture, or a sales strategy.

Though, of course, it helps.

Thanks for all the fish

This is the last article in the series, at least for now. I hope you found it informative and at least a little entertaining.

If you do have any feedback, or just want to say hi, please drop me a comment, a tweet, or an email. Details are at the bottom of every post on the website (so click through if you’re reading this in a feed reader).

Cheers all. I found this very fun to write.

1. Introduction
2. Focus on the problem, not the solution
3. If the company goals change, the company should probably change too
4. "Do research" is not a corporate strategy
5. Your corporate values transcend your product vision
6. Trust your gut, understand your heart, and open your mind
7. Go to therapy with your co-founders
8. Explore the terrain first
9. Unless someone cares, don't waste your time
10. Code is a liability; ship without coding, if possible
11. Do less, and do it better
12. Agile methods are tools to try more ideas in less time
13. Until you have traction, money is a trap
14. If you don’t know how to do it, that’s your biggest problem
15. Roles can be fluid, but they must be defined
16. Camaraderie is helpful, but no substitute for working together