Office-types

Why I love Peter Drucker:

'Increasing effectiveness may well be the only area where we can hope significantly to raise the level of the knowledge worker's performance, achievement, and satisfaction.

We certainly could use people of much greater abilities in many places. We could use people of broader knowledge. I submit, however, that in these two areas, not too much can be expected from further efforts. We may be getting to the point where we are already attempting to do the inherently impossible or at least the inherently unprofitable. But we are not going to breed a new race of supermen. We will have to run our organisations with men and women as they are.

The books on manager development, for instance, envisage truly a "man for all seasons" in their picture of "the manager of tomorrow." A senior executive, we are told, should have extraordinary abilities as an analyst and a decision-maker. He or she should be good at working with people and at understanding organisation and power relations, be good at mathematics, and have artistic insights and creative imagination. What seems to be wanted is universal genius, and universal genius has always been in scarce supply. The experience of the human race indicates strongly that the only person in abundant supply is the universal incompetent....

...When "operations research" first came in, several of the brilliant young practitioners published their prescription for the operations researcher of tomorrow. They always came out asking for a polymath knowing everything and capable of doing superior and original work in every area of human knowledge. According to one of these studies, operations researchers need to have advanced knowledge in sixty-two or so major scientific and humanistic disciplines. If such a person could be found, he would, I am afraid, be totally wasted on studies of inventory levels or on the programming of production schedules.'

How do we get past this?

Read "Effectiveness Must be Learned", The Essential Drucker.

The Song Remains the Same

There is some terrible pain in my left ear. Infected, says the doc. As long as it clears before it's time to dive. Have you ever wondered why they are always labelled eye/ear drops? How is it that these two vital sensory organs share afflictions and cures? I remember the time when a certain medicinal liquid that went into my eye left a bitter aftertaste in the back of my throat. There must be a link somewhere. Maybe I should ask my doctor-to-be sister-in-law-to-be. She is coming to Singapore. A month-long attachment to SGH.

Holden Caulfield. Most of us know him. I love travelling by bus. Or, by train, for that matter. You get a chance to just watch everyone else, or maybe eavesdrop a little bit, or wonder what brings a sudden smile to the face of the twelve-year old in front of you. This morning, I knew what. She was speeding through her own copy of Catcher in the Rye (20% Borders discount). Brought me back 7 years...

It was a long weekend, and I was on an overnight train from Sydney to Melbourne. And, then on to Geelong. Somewhere during the night, I started reading about Holden Caulfield. By the time the train rolled into Geelong station at seven on a very cold winter morning, I still had a dozen or so pages left. I tried reading and walking at the same time. Didn't work. Sat down on the cold stone pavement on High Street, and finished the book just a moment before my ass froze over.

That is a five-on-five book.

Arigatou Gozaimasu

It is S-san's last working day in the Singapore office. He will be returning to Tokyo in his new role as a Showa big shot. Very rarely does one have an opportunity to write a tribute to a colleague, so here goes.

The image of Japan that I had gathered from the media (including Haruki Murakami novels and Lost in Translation, the movie) was one of degenerate sex perverts, sake drunkards, maniacal workaholics and economic doomsayers. I won't venture to speculate on S-san's sexual exploits, but here is the person I got to know - a standard middle-aged gentleman who loved his cigarettes and Mother's Recipe Indian pickle.

Long walks to High Street Plaza for the weekly Indian meal at Jesal-sardar (so we called the joint). Souvenirs reliably brought from vacations on every tropical island paradise in the vicinity. A yearning to catch the Northern Lights in the Arctic (not yet) and to soar above Mount Everest (done). An almost-clerical diligence with numbers and rigorous analysis, without a hint of his serf-commanding bigwig status on his home turf. Yeses and nos which meant precisely that - yes and no. A pocket English-Japanese-English electronic dictionary that helped zoom past every barrier of tongue and thought. A child-like curiosity at the delights of Pat-Phong. An impeccable devotion to his son's soccer matches and swimming lessons. An understanding smile every time I pointed out another collapse in the Dow or the Nikkei. Stories about late night drinking bouts with Japanese colleagues, where the quality of the Powerpoint production was directly related to the quantity of booze in the gut. And, the awesome Red Bean Kit Kat bar.

Traveller. Aficionado. Gourmand. Father.

I remember his simple pledge to go from 10 to 4 cigarettes a day in line with a company wellness programme. One wonders if that applies in Tokyo.

I hope he liked the Images of Singapore from the Japanese Perspective 1868-1941 - A collection of photographs, postcards and documents.

2050

I am reading this interesting book titled The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. The author performs an interesting thought experiment - if mankind were to suddenly vanish from the face of the planet (say, if we were sucked away by an alien's selective vacuum cleaner), what would our legacy be, and how long would it last? I won't go into the details, but it is fairly obvious that our wooden homes would rot right away, but the radioactive waste would be there to stay. And, so on... Some manifestations of our existence are rather stunning - Pacific whirlpools the size of Africa where all the world's plastic trash eventually ends up and extremely high concentrations of plastic nurdle fines in the world's oceans. Plastic takes so long to bio-degrade - even if that was possible - it first breaks up into really fine particles that find their way right through the food chain. In some way or the other, you and I not only wrap our food in plastic; we even EAT plastic.

Add to that depressing list:

Coal Ash Spill

That is a mess we'll probably never be able to clean up. This, in one of the richest nations of the world with a reasonable record of environmental consciousness. What about the dozens of coal-powered plants in India and China, which probably don't even have coal-ash tailing ponds?

Recently, I have read a number of books and articles where 2050 repeatedly turns up as some kind of notional deadline for us to clean up our act - by when the planet will be toast, the rivers will run dry and the seas will be garbage soup. That date will be at the outer end of my productive lifetime.

Clearly, there is a choice. We could well be the last generation that lives in plenty off the planet's bounty and has only a depressing legacy to leave behind. Or, we could be the generation that acts decisively to leave a different kind of everlasting legacy - through the personal choices we make everyday, through the businesses we lead, through the ideas we preach, through the solutions we develop and through the policies we enact...

For now, set that air-conditioning unit on timer when you go to bed, take the train to work and turn off the tap when you shave. And, carry your own shopping bag.

Bells and Whistles

Most of us know about the tragedy last week at Amsterdam Schiphol airport involving Turkish Airlines Flight 1951.

Nine people died, and 80 were hurt, and nothing is going to change that. Aircraft have to operate with a zero margin of error, every single time, and sometimes, terrible things happen. That is no consolation or excuse, of course.

This is what Boeing has to say, and I quote CNN:

...In a memo to pilots, Boeing says there was a malfunction in one of the plane's two altimeters, which measure the altitude above the terrain where the plane is going to land. The left altimeter was giving "erroneous" information, indicating that the plane was below 7 or 8 feet from ground level when it was actually about 2,000 feet in the air, the memo said. That caused the automatic throttles to slow the plane down. The Boeing memo notes that "the autothrottle, which uses the left radio altimeter data, transitioned to landing flare mode and retarded the throttles to the idle stop. The throttles remained at the idle stop for approximately 100 seconds during which time the airspeed decreased to approximately 40 knots below the selected approach speed."...

I will not pretend to understand aeronautical engineering or the complicated lights, knobs and buttons that we see in popular cockpit footage.

In my line of work, in oil refining, we like to say that our safety systems are comparable to those in the nuclear and airline industries. In emergency or critical process control systems, it is not unusual to have two or three instruments measuring the same thing. This is done to build in a margin of safety through redundancy. The control loops are usually designed with voting using relative and time-series comparisons. For example, if two out of three instruments suggest the need to do something drastic, an emergency system will be activated. Or, if a certain measurement has an odd deviation, a comparison of historic measurements is triggered to try to determine which instrument is faulty, and take away its voting rights.

There were two altimeters. One was taking wrong decisions on its own. We ask the pilot to be more vigilant. Any thoughts from any experts?

Bananas

Just walked down to the store (took the lift and got introduced to Arindam Sengupta on the way down, actually) and bought the mandatory two bananas. I always buy two of them. One for right now. And, another in case there is a wild craving later. Also, bananas continue to ripen after plucking, as we know. So, not too many. And, always bananas. Handcarry, no plastic bags. Sometimes with Realfresh Orange Mango Nectar $1.80.

I love apples too. The only problem with them comes from my misaligned teeth. Apples and misaligned teeth don't get along very well. So, I need a knife. And, I have one stashed in my lower draw.

I am sure I have told some of you about my strict adherence to conventional fruits. My rather unconventional list includes mangoes, bananas, apples, oranges, grapes, watermelon, pineapples, jackfruit and papaya. That is all. Peaches, only under exceptional circumstances - for example, when she serves them up with some cream. What I am trying to say is - no longan, rambutan, durian, starfruit or dragonfruit for me. No, thank you. (Monthong durian chips is the only acceptable form of durian, because in this form, it is more jackfruit than durian.)

It's time to check how well the ban on plastic bags at home has been working. If we still have enough bags to wrap the storeroom twice over, that's not progress. Not after all the trash we have hauled out in those bags lately. I've heard from the company bulletin that cracker margins are collapsing. For those of you untainted, crackers make plastic makes shopping bags.

What's a good way to make progress? Setting targets, planning and acting - the first two being my great strengths, and the last, my single greatest weakness. Not letting the urgent take over the important, a la Leo McGarry. I was telling someone (while watching West Wing, AGAIN) - I would not be able to work for Leo McGarry. I just can't imagine being Josh, or Toby, or CJ, and having to put up with Leo. I could BE Leo McGarry, though. That's the beauty of dreams.

All this, just on the way to the bananas and back.

Namesake

This is what happens when your company moves its IT offshore activities to Chennai.

Random instant message from Lukman-Zamani Idris from the IT back office in Kuala Lumpur:

I need some assistance with regard to change request approval under approval group of GLBAPSSCIPORCHG

At the least, I know that one of my many namesakes in Chennai is doing rather well. He gets to approve requests for change.

Why Wonder Wall?

It's a song by Oasis.

One of my all-time favourite songs. No idea why.

She even used it as the background song for the farewell video she made for me when I left Tabangao. Oh, I should watch that again one of these days. I almost end up crying every time I see the last segment, where she has her special thoughts for me.

Perhaps, I should play the video at our wedding. Theme: He just refused to go away.

Why Holy Diver?

It's a song by Dio.

Almost ten years ago, in the safety of my dorm room (or, so I thought), I was noticed providing pelvic thrusts (not of the sexual kind, unfortunately) to the accompaniment of the tune.

And, I have let it stick.

I dive, by the way. Or, used to, at least. PADI Basic Open Water. 15 dives. It's been four years. Planning my refresher course in the third week of March. Rich expatriate brother - 5 hours from the Great Barrier Reef - beckons.

Without regard.

That's it. I have had enough. Of people who insist on using the word irregardless.

Now, let us check what the Merriam Webster online dictionary says:

"Irregardless originated in dialectal American speech in the early 20th century. Its fairly widespread use in speech called it to the attention of usage commentators as early as 1927. The most frequently repeated remark about it is that “there is no such word.” There is such a word, however. It is still used primarily in speech, although it can be found from time to time in edited prose. Its reputation has not risen over the years, and it is still a long way from general acceptance. Use regardless instead."

Damn it. There is such a word. There is such a word?

I know what linguists such as Steven Pinker and many average inhabitants of the blogosphere have to say about evolved words and phrases. The main objective of language is to convey meaning, and words such as irregardless manage to do that, even in their glorious incorrectness. Words such as debone and unravel may be accused of the same deficiency. Or, oversufficiency of affixes, to be exact.

Nope. No irregardless for me. Regardless of what you think.