Some time ago, talking to some people, they wanted a bonus if the Lakers made the playoffs. I said, “Bonus? If we don’t make the playoffs, you don’t work here anymore.”
—L.A. Lakers owner Jerry Buss

Define the win, then hold your team accountable for not meeting the expectations. If they go above and beyond, it’s bonus time. But you don’t get bonuses for doing your job.

*This post has nothing to do with basketball.

My team currently has two openings, a Web Developer and Junior Designer, and we just hired a Project Manager. I’ve been spending ~15% of my workdays lately sorting through portfolios, reading and sending emails, and following up with potential applicants. I think most people in Director/Principle/HR-type roles are too busy to explain why an applicant gets rejected, but I want to throw some ideas out there that I think might help you if you’re a design/developer on the job hunt.

1. Show Lots of Work…
Actual, Honest-To-God, well-thought-out, proof-that-you-can-problem-solve WORK. There are 12 year olds with a copy of Photoshop who can set some cool type on an image. Your grandma could learn basic HTML/CSS (hyperbole, maybe—but also probably true). Where’s the proof that you can turn complex thinking into seemingly simple solutions? Proof that you can take a client’s needs and translate them into real work?

If you’re a designer, show a variety of design solutions (include sketches and failed attempts, too—process is important). If you’re a developer, show live code examples (not just “I worked on this website” statements). If you don’t have real clients yet, try your hand at unsolicited redesigns. Just get out there, find problems and solve them. Do it on your own time and show a potential employer/client that A) you can hustle and B) you’re capable of solving problems for them.

2. …in an Easy-To-Browse Portfolio*…
I had a wonderful client/friend (amazing combo if you can make it happen) who once told me he typically browsed through dozens of portfolios looking for the right talent for new projects. “Don’t make me click a lot,” he’d say, “just show me big pictures of great work.” Word to the wise from a guy who hires talent for huge clients.

*Bonus points if I can look at your portfolio on my phone. I’m not a super-busy guy, but I’m also not always at my desk in front of a 30″ monitor. Mobile is the future of how we interact with the internet—if you aren’t thinking about it now, you’ve got catching up to do.

3. …with A Stellar Cover Letter
Make me look twice. Being a vital part of a team is about more than a skillset, so your résumé is only the price of entry. Who you are determines whether you get to stick around for coffee. Is there a person behind the portfolio? How is that person different from rest of the stack of emails I’m getting? Standouts get hired, not résumés—have a voice. Articulate why you’re different.

4. Sweat the Details
Proofread your damn résumé. Make sure your website works. Spell the company’s name right. The care you put into the details of presenting yourself to a potential employer/client is a good measure of the care you will put into the work you do for that employer/client.

I once got a cover letter that led with, “My objective is to obtain a Junior Designer position at [local advertising agency's name].” Since I received this letter and résumé for a job opening on my team, I replied, “I wish you luck in your objective to obtain a Junior Designer position at [local advertising agency's name].” Details matter, always.

5. Follow the Instructions
Be as creative as you want to be, but make sure you follow the instructions in the job posting while you’re doing it. See #4.

6. Be Passionate
Please love what you do. If you’re not energized and excited about the job you’re pursuing, stop, reassess and pursue something else. In a typical week, you’re going to spend 35–45 hours a week with your coworkers—no one wants to work with passionless people. Find something you love to do and run after it.

Homework
Read Kevin Fanning’s Let’s All Find Awesome Jobs. It’s full of great, practical advice.

If your mission is to quit, there’s no better time than right now.
—Scott, Spartan

There is never a more convenient season. Get it done, or let it die.

If you have talent, there will always be someone telling you how to use it. Talent is in short supply, and smart people always have a vision for how you should use yours. It’s not enough to be good at what you do—you need to know where you want to take it (and more importantly where you don’t want to go).

Don’t mindlessly offer up your talent on the altar of the wrong vision. Be intentional with your talent, or someone else will do it for you.

[The '10 Boston Celtics are] a very unselfish team. They don’t care where their scoring comes from. Nobody seems the least bit bothered by that.
—Stan Van Gundy, Orlando Magic head coach

Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.
—Romans 12:10

Same thought from two very different sources, both of which give me lots to ponder about how I interact with my team and who gets the credit. Winning is better than self-promotion.

I’m settled in to a hotel in Virginia Beach (yay for free wifi, Hilton Garden Inn! You get it!) for a week of vacation. I hope it’s well-earned, but I hope my team sees it that way, too.

I’ve been trying to shift my thinking over the last year—less about me, more about us—to find out how we can leverage the team best. I still think rest is massively important for both individual and team health, but I’m framing more and more through the lens of team lately.

As I put down roots (physically and mentally) and commit to moving forward with a group of like-minded folks to build something great, I’m acutely aware of how my personal lack has a blast radius beyond my task list(s) and projects. How do my shortfalls pull us down? Destroy our reputation internally? Affect the health of the organization? Am I making excuses or blame shifting? Where am I pulling my weight? Where am I just dead weight?

Here’s to resting… And to working damn hard not to be the weak link when you’re done resting.

op•ti•mism
1. a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.
2. the belief that good ultimately predominates over evil in the world.
3. the belief that goodness pervades reality.
4. the doctrine that the existing world is the best of all possible worlds.

pes•si•mism
1. the tendency to see, anticipate, or emphasize only bad or undesirable outcomes, results, conditions, problems, etc.
2. the doctrine that the existing world is the worst of all possible worlds, or that all things naturally tend to evil.
3. the belief that the evil and pain in the world are not compensated for by goodness and happiness.

After some research and good old fashioned introspection, I’ve determined I’m both. Firmly. And neither. At least not wholly.

As with most things, there is a great tension at play that shapes my work and interaction with people. These are the environments where I spend most of my time, and as such they’re the proving ground for which side of world view I’m operating from. It’s a tricky line to walk—much of optimism in the above definitions seems overly naive and downright delusional to me, but I also don’t want to be known as the guy who only sees and comments on the worst the world has to offer. I’m looking for some middle ground here.

I think that balance as a general principle is a waste of time. To balance you have to be completely aware of the two extremes, the ‘weight’ of each, and of the absolute center on any issue. I find continuously that I am just not that smart.
—Ben Pasley

Trying to find balance between optimism and pessimism is a seemingly attainable goal (given that we have two rigidly defined extremes), but it still feels like a waste of mental energy, energy that could be better spent on greater things. In the moment, I want to be more concerned with what I need to perceive about a situation in order to accomplish a task or finish a project. If that requires adopting a stance that others might label pessimistic, I need to be OK with that, even if that perception isn’t in keeping with what I see my world view as.

I’m guessing this will all be more difficult that I imagine.

Well established hierarchies are not easily uprooted;
Closely held beliefs are not easily released;
So ritual enthralls generation after generation.
—Tao Te Ching, Chapter 38

If it’s pessimistic to read that quote and agree 100%, then i’m a card-carrying pessimist.

More on this topic later.

Last week I spent a few hours moving our three-bay “compost corral” from one corner of the yard to another. After relocating the structure, I had to move the ~40 wheelbarrow loads of actual compost. I could have shoveled away at it, and while a shovel is a perfectly good tool, it wasn’t the right tool for this job. Have you ever used a pitchfork? Amazing—capable of lifting and pitching much more semi-loose material that you expect. The pitchfork cut my work by more than half, and saved my back in the process.

You shouldn’t make a habit of blaming your tools for your lack. But you use the right tools for the job. “Work smarter, not harder,” I can hear my father saying.

So don’t use a shovel when you actually need a pitchfork. Don’t schedule a meeting when you actually need a quick phone call or email. Don’t make an iPhone app when you actually need a better website for mobile users. Don’t do the same repetitive tasks day in day out when you actually need to automate or streamline your process.

If presented with options, use the tool that does the job the best.

It’s the easiest thing in the world to heckle from the stands. To quarterback from the La-Z-Boy. To second guess after the moment of decision has passed. To take your minimum of knowledge and yell at the top of your proverbial lungs how everyone is doing it wrong.

We see this play out online in increasingly verbally violent manner—people spending inordinate amounts of time finding anything or anyone they disagree with and picking fights (in 140 characters or less no less). They mount mini-campaigns. They scream. They spit. They gnash. And all in the name of some sense of rightness or perceived wrongness of the other. They’re stuck in the stands, hurtling towards mediocrity, convinced of their superior thinking.

But what I never see people doing is putting legs to their complaint. You say you care so much about [insert organization or movement or system or belief here]? You see so much wrong with it? Then why aren’t you involved? Why aren’t you in the middle of the damn thing? If you won’t set-up shop at the scrimmage line and fight to change something alongside other people from the inside out, you’re all talk. You’ve got no teeth. And you’re ridiculously easy to ignore because you just don’t know anything and you aren’t doing anything.

It’s much more difficult to stick around and work together, especially (perhaps most importantly) with people you don’t always agree with. Because all the bluster and bitching and words in the world don’t hold any weight if you won’t act on them. When you claim to have beliefs, virtues, and standards that you refuse to act on you’re in the stands, wailing at the wind, feigning care and loving the sound of your own voice. You’re a hypocrite. You’re what you hate. You become what you be-tweet.

You say you care about something? If it’s important, put down some roots. Dig in and help change it. Or please just shut up.

A note from The Management: You’ll have to forgive the sports analogy. It’s out of character, but it fits. I figure I’m entitled to at least one a year since my name is in the URL and all.

A poor craftsman blames his tools.
—Unknown

Stings, doesn’t it? But there’s no nice way to say it. You can’t sugarcoat it.

When we fail, our pride prevents us from coming to terms with our own abilities. Then we go scapegoat hunting. Tools are typically the most present, easy targets—after all, they got us into this mess, right? You can’t take good photos? It’s because of your crappy camera. You can’t play that riff? You need better gear. You can’t squash that programming bug? It’s because [insert programming language of choice here] sucks. Surely the problem isn’t you.

Rarely do we have the guts to admit we are inept (however temporarily) for the task at hand. Our default posture is to fling blame anywhere it might stick. Blameshifting masks our own shortcomings. It’s the only logical place for insecurity to go. Shift, shift, shift, like a game of hot potato—do anything to make sure the blame potato doesn’t land in your lap. But if you shift for long enough, you start to think nothing is your fault, that nothing should be demanded of you, and that the tools should do the work for you.

You are the only one who’s ultimately responsible for shaping your skills or ideology. Good tools can help, certainly, but they can’t be the source—they’re inanimate objects. They do very little without human direction and action. Don’t blame your tools for your apathy or your lack. It’s your lack. A better craftsman would work wonders with the tools you despise. “The tone is in the touch” seasoned musicians often (rightly) say. It’s always about the craftsman.

So what’s wrong with your tools? It doesn’t matter. How about what’s wrong with you? Why can’t you execute? Why can’t you get traction? Why aren’t you improving? What do you need to learn? Get comfortable with self-critique. If it’s difficult for you to be objective, ask for help and seek wisdom outside of yourself.

Worry more about using the tools than the nature of the tools. Take responsibility for your own shortcomings and fix them (or re-calibrate into a different field). Fancy tools will always be a smokescreen unless you’re using them to do actual work.

Freelancing is only suited to seasoned professionals. Pursuing a freelance career as your first step in the profession is almost always a foolish move. Professionalism is maintained by habit. If your first step is a misstep, you’ve set a poor tone for the work ahead. Unless you immediately correct your mistakes, the habits you’ll develop will be clumsy and unprofessional.

…The design professional’s job is to show confidence when dealing with clients. No one else can communicate your value or win trust for you. The reason clients distrust those who do not communicate with confidence is because this trait signals other incompetencies.
—Andy Rutledge, Common Questions About Design Professionalism

Rutledge is all up in my business, tapping me on the shoulder and reading my mail. This is an excellent article, full of advice I wish someone would have told me when I was 3 years into being a designer and I thought I knew everything. I’m going on 7 years now, and I realize how little I know. Go get some wisdom.