“Euclid's "Elements" is not something that existed from the beginning. People started building their huts long before geometry was invented. Of course, it was irresponsible on their part, but they needed a place to live. Then Euclid was born and wrote his book. But that was a little over 2000 years ago.”
My boss looked at me expectantly, not understanding where I was going with this.
“Euclid formulated 5 axioms - the pillars of his geometry. These are statements that it makes no sense to dispute if you want to discuss Euclidean geometry. If you disagree with something, it means you're arguing about something else, and it would be good for your opponent to know that beforehand. Having such axioms later helped mathematicians communicate and formulate theorems - conclusions based on axioms.”
Looks like I'm losing him. I have to visualize this.
I went to the board and grabbed the markers. There were 5 of them. The chance of picking one that wouldn't run out as I drew my explanation was about 1 in 10. It's a paradox, but the markers in our office seem to exist in a state of quantum uncertainty. I chose the blue one, hoping that Heisenberg's spirit would appreciate it and add a bit of certainty despite his principles.
“Look, down here are hundreds of years of building evolution, trial and error. And here, in 300 B.C., Euclid publishes his book in which he formulates definitions, postulates, and axioms - the pillars of his discipline. From these pillars, by tracing logical chains, you can formulate theorems and then make practical decisions based on them.”
“And why do I need that information?”
“Andrey, I don't think we have hundreds of years for the evolution of thought. We've been working together for 5 years and have gained enough experience to write our own "Elements". In the last few months, since I started working remotely, I spend most of the time I save on commuting to the office arguing with you in my head.”
“Wow.”
“Yes, when we worked in the same office, those rough edges were smoothed over. And what wasn't smoothed was polished over beers at the bar. But now almost every management decision you make seems unjustified to me.”
Oops. Looks like I got myself trapped.
“So maybe this is a sign that it's time for you to get back to the office? And meet more often in informal settings?”
I put the marker down on the table. To give myself time to think of an argument, I decided to sit down and pulled the chair out from under the table. The chair slid across the carpet, which hadn't been vacuumed in three years, with a sound like the dying cough of a smoker.
“Yes, that would solve the problem, but only partially. By working together, we could synchronize our opinions more often and give each other quick feedback on actions. But we've been together for 5 years and it's time to learn how to make the same decisions independently.”
The boss nodded silently. I took it as a sign to continue.
“At first I didn't understand what was going on, so I just blamed you. I thought you were just being bad or stupid - a standard reaction to the behavior of someone you don't understand. But it is very easy to call the unknown "stupid". Such a thought is easy and pleasant in its own way, but it leads nowhere.
For example, you give many tasks and say that they're all urgent, that they had to be done "yesterday". When I ask you to choose which one is more important, you refuse, arguing that "everything is important". I limit the kanban board with WIP limits and you assign critical priority to tasks, forcing people to work on several things at once. In the end, we compromise, but I know it's all going to happen again - the conflict is not resolved.
Eventually, I realized that the problem isn't that we're acting chaotically and giving conflicting instructions to the team. The problem is that we don't even know what principles each of us uses to make decisions.”
“I'd love to, but here's the catch. Often I intuitively understand that something is right (and it turns out to be right in the end), but when you ask me why, I can't explain it. Like the joke: "0.5 + 0.5 equals one liter, but I can't express it mathematically."” 1
“I'm not saying it will be easy. But without it, it will be impossible for us to organize parallel, independent work. I'll always do what you think is wrong. We won't be able to understand each other half a word.
Not just half a word - for example, if a programmer doesn't fully understand you, even with a detailed specification, half the tasks will result in something completely different from what you expected. The person may do everything "as written", but it won't always be what is "expected".
Intuition and unspoken principles work when you're an individual performer. But if you want to delegate or assign something to someone else, they need to know what drives your decisions.”
“So we're getting into abstractions. What are you talking about? It seems to me that I don't hide anything from people, and everyone understands what drives my decisions.”
“Okay, here's an example. Can your subordinates express their opinions and criticize your decisions? In other words, do you have an "I'm the boss, you're the fool" principle?”
No, of course not, that's ridiculous. I've always built a democracy in our company. Anyone can speak up and critically review my decisions.
Yes, sometimes I react too emotionally to criticism, but that doesn't mean anything. I may joke harshly, sure, but it's just humor.”
“Are you sure all our stakeholders understand? If you think everyone understands, why aren't they arguing with you in meetings? Why aren't they suggesting things that contradict your point of view? Have you considered that it might be because they're not really sure you won't say "I'm the boss, you're the fool" one day?”
“If you're sure this is the case, then let's not waste time, let's make a list of such axioms to show everyone. We'll include the point that "I'm the boss - you're the fool" is not a management strategy we use.”
“Wait, I'm not trying to solve everyone's problems here. I'm trying to resolve conflicts between you and me. Later we can open up these principles to others. I just don't want to discuss "I'm the boss - you're the fool," because I already know you don't think that way.”
Phew, things are heating up.
“Let's start with a principle that's easy to get started with. I've heard you mention it many times, so it shouldn't be too difficult.
I'm talking about the Pareto Principle.”
“Ah, yes, that's a very accurate principle. 20 percent of the effort produces 80 percent of the result.”
“Exactly. Do you know how this principle came about? Pareto was actually a scientist, but he didn't study "effort" or "efficiency. He discovered that 20% of Italy's population owned 80% of the country's wealth. He saw an asymmetry in the distribution. The "effort" interpretation is a modern version of Pareto's observation.”
“Yes, but it's still true. It's the same with our projects - only a small portion of the work done will ultimately bring in the majority of the profit.”
“That's what I wanted to talk about.”
I hope I don't screw this up. I should have practiced my arguments more yesterday.
I got out of my chair and started to draw. The marker squeaked across the board, but quickly ran out. Apparently, Heisenberg wasn't too pleased that I was bringing up this pseudo-scientific principle. There were four markers left, two of them black. I started to guess which one would write and reached for the one on the left, but at the last moment I decided to trick the old man and grabbed the one on the right. And I was right.
“If we both believe that only 20% of the effort (completed tasks) produces 80% of the results, then we can take this idea further. Within that "effective" group of tasks, there are 20% that are the most efficient, producing 80% of the results within that subset. Meanwhile, within that 80% of "waste" there are 80% that are even more wasteful.”
“Yes, that sounds logical.”
“We can't know in advance (for example, by looking at our backlog) which tasks will fall into which group. We won't know until the tasks are completed and we can evaluate the results. But if we know that only 20% of our ideas will produce results, we should at least TRY to predict what might become that 20%.”
“Absolutely. We have to minimize useless work.”
“In fact, I'd say it's our moral obligation to our people. Their future depends on these decisions.”
“And the future of the company.”
“Of course. Keep looking. Knowing that each group can be split into two subgroups: group-20
and group-80
, and then each of them into subgroup-20
and subgroup-80
, means that any unsorted pile - CAN BE - can be prioritized, turning it into a flat list. It's difficult, and we might make mistakes, but as I said, it's our moral obligation to our people. ”
Phew, I hope he doesn't think I've got him in a logical trap.
“Okay, I see what you mean. But it's hard - I can't predict what's more important, for example: making money or avoiding a fine from the regulator.”
“I'm not saying it's going to be easy. We're going to have to develop some kind of evaluation and prediction system.
This whole axiomatic model is a belief system. You can make mistakes, you can be wrong, you can slack off, you can act wrongly. In short, you can sin. But if you really believe in the 80/20 principle, you'll always come back to the conclusions I've made.”
Silence fell. The boss' eyes showed fatigue.
Looks like I pushed too hard. I should give him a break; it's only 9 a.m.
“That's all for today.”
The boss exhaled with relief and leaned back in his chair.
“But I have three more principles for you.”
The boss quietly left the meeting room.
Vassily Ivanovich applied to the military academy, but failed the mathematics exam. Petka asks him how this happened.
“Well, they ask me, "How much is zero point five and a half?" And I just feel in my gut that it's a liter, but I can't prove it mathematically!”