Archive for May, 2009
[de-vign-er] — noun
1. a person who holds the dual role of designer and developer
2. an alternative to desigloper, which is an even more ridiculous amalgam word
[Origin: 2007, ostensibly coined by Flash guy Ryan Stewart]
In many companies, adequate performance gets a modest raise. At Netflix, adequate performance gets a generous severance package.
— Netflix, excerpted from 7 Great Reasons to Work at Netflix
If you, as a leader, create and nurture a culture where employees must continually fall on their swords to prove their loyalty to the mission, the cause, the vision, the organization, your leadership, etc., eventually you won’t have anyone left. Your people will either burnout or simply leave. And when they fail or exit, the delusional self-fulfilling prophet in you will quietly say, “See, I told you they weren’t loyal.”
And maybe they weren’t. Or maybe all employees are not longterm relationship material. Or maybe your mission and direction sucks and they got tired of it. Or maybe they were so bloodied from all the sword hugging that they didn’t have anything left to give.
Don’t let a misplaced need for leadership affirmation confuse the loyal people with the folks just passing through. In the trenches, we all want to know our people have our back. But if the way we expect them to prove their loyalty kills them in the process, don’t blame the dead. You’re the one calling the shots.
1. The aforementioned 30th birthday
2. The Spooners move to The SC
3. My nephew Bear turns 5
4. The Armstrong Family Circus stops by our casa for a few days
5. Anywhere from 0—5 site designs I’ve been working on for clients go live
Today’s the last day of Panic’s 50% sale on great Mac software like Transmit, CandyBar and Coda. I use Transmit everyday, and have for years. It’s so good I actually wish the OS X Finder worked more like Transmit.
Hulu’s desktop app lets me navigate the whole site from my couch with my Apple remote. There’s lots of slick UI details, too. Sold. Thank you, Hulu.
In less than a month, I turn 30.
Western culture loves assigning weighted meaning to a good round number, a gravitas beyond the simple recorded passing of time. And however right or wrong or in-between that is, I feel the weight of soon-to-be 30.
There are a lot of things I’ve said I wanted to accomplish before that birthday. Some of them have happened, some of them haven’t, a lot of them I’ve probably forgotten. But the impending milestone has me thinking about dreams, ideas, execution, legacy and body of work. And wishing I’d done more. And wanting to do more.
So I have 30 days until I’m 30 years old. And I want to do something.
As if we didn’t know already, Rachmaninov had big hands.
I love Heather’s home (away from home) photoset of stitched together hotel room panoramas. Such a cool travel tradition.
I’m still sorting through and editing photos from our Seattle vacation. This latest batch is from “the big camera” (some of which look too dark in the light of day, and might get replaced.)
What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Married to the Sea‘s pitch-perfect comics often veer into brilliantly simple social commentary like this. Also, Wu-Tang references. But that is a story for another post.
I dig that the Dirt Conference still hasn’t spent any money on promotions. What a novel idea.
Those who aren’t the real thing always find an excuse for their failings when confronted by the real thing. Or they cast the accomplishments of anyone further up the food chain as…cheating.
— Mark Twight, Gym Jones
1. This one
2. Or this one
3. This one, too
4. And this one
5. Also, this one
To say that this take on Sherlock Holmes looks enjoyable is to undersell it.
Nine times failure, nine times effort, without discouraging oneself.
— Tibetan proverb
I know, I know. You’re probably thinking we already covered this, you weirdo. But no, again I go with the job titles thing. Call it a pet project; I thirst for complete knowledge of the topic. It is my white whale, and I am its Ahab.
Let me throw a situation out at you. A few years ago I was in one type of work environment, mainly agency-type places with a very set structure and clear hierarchy. Everyone knew the top, the bottom, and all the clearly labeled rungs in between. Then I transitioned into a different work environment, one more wide than tall, more collaborative than creatively authoritative. There aren’t many rungs, and a proclivity for climbing isn’t part of the DNA (or mine for that matter).
On paper, I’m the Creative Director at NewSpring Church. But here’s the rub: NewSpring doesn’t really have a Creative Director. And the more I think about it, I don’t think we ever have, despite the fact that I’ve held that title for half of our existence. Let me explain…
In agency world, a Creative Director usually has a design or writing background and interacts with the client to create ideas, approaches and treatments that are typically implemented by designers and copywriters on their team. They’re the filter, and often the initiator of the idea. It’s fairly clear, and intensely hierarchical. But at NewSpring, no one person does that. Or to put it better, a lot of people do that. There’s tension. There are often (much to my dismay) minor lacks of cohesion. But ultimately we share the process and burden of creative direction across a lot of roles on our team. Which is cool, especially considering we’re the “client,” too.
That brings me squarely back to the job title thing (“from hell’s heart I stab at thee!”) and my situation. At NewSpring I handle overall design, branding, some copywriting, and web design/strategy. But I’m admitting the traditional Creative Director role doesn’t exist in our environment, so what* am I?
*I have an idea of what I am, but I want to hear your feedback.
Noah Stokes has started a great 3-parter on Troubleshooting Your CSS. Practical, logical coding advice is always welcomed. Update: Part 2
Now and then it hits you that you’re doing the job of everyone that reports to you…you’ve clogged your calendar with so much handholding, dispute settling, and babysitting, there’s no way you can cultivate new opportunities.
— Mark Stevens, Your Management Sucks
