Generous Blog Entries

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

2011-10-06T09:30:50Z

Generous is about imagining a different way of living, about innovating, trying new things, believing that things can be better, simpler, more beautiful. In many ways, Steve Jobs epitomised this Generous spirit. So we asked Generous member, Peter Barrett, to blog about his death here:

‘Stay hungry. Stay foolish.” This was the quote I heard on Radio 4 this morning when I first learned of the sad and shocking news of the passing away of Steve Jobs. Apparently, the quote was from a back page advert on the last edition of a magazine to which Jobs subscribed. But these were words that resonated with him throughout his career and influenced the way he worked, the products he made and the risks he took.

If Steve Jobs was a stick of rock he would have the word ‘innovation’ right through the middle. He has genuinely and consistently disrupted the technology and media industries – although he would be the first to admit that it was because he had a great team of very talented people around him. Which is true, but (dare I say it?) kind of misses the point. Great teams need great leaders.

What everyone wanted to know, of course, is how he did it (as if there was a logical answer):

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.” [Stanford commencement speech, June 2005]

This approach led to some amazing insights, years ahead of their time. Check out this quote from that well known business magazine, Playboy, where he effectively forecasts the rise of the Internet in the mid-eighties:

“The most compelling reason for most people to buy a computer for the home will be to link it to a nationwide communications network. We’re just in the beginning stages of what will be a truly remarkable breakthrough for most people––as remarkable as the telephone.” [Playboy, Feb. 1, 1985]

But he did have guiding principles – a real focus on what is critically important and keeping things simple:
“That’s been one of my mantras — focus and simplicity. Simple can be harder than complex: You have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.” [BusinessWeek, May 25, 1998, in a profile that also included the following gem: “Steve clearly has done an incredible job,” says former Apple Chief Financial Officer Joseph Graziano. “But the $64,000 question is: Will Apple ever resume growth?”]

“And it comes from saying no to 1,000 things to make sure we don’t get on the wrong track or try to do too much. We’re always thinking about new markets we could enter, but it’s only by saying no that you can concentrate on the things that are really important. [BusinessWeek, Oct. 12, 2004]

Of course, fundamental to success was Jobs’ focus on good design – form and function – which is the hallmark of Apple’s product portfolio:

“When you’re a carpenter making a beautiful chest of drawers, you’re not going to use a piece of plywood on the back, even though it faces the wall and nobody will ever see it. You’ll know it’s there, so you’re going to use a beautiful piece of wood on the back. For you to sleep well at night, the aesthetic, the quality, has to be carried all the way through.” [Playboy, Feb. 1, 1985]

So what advice would Steve Jobs give to us?

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.” [Stanford commencement speech, June 2005

Although that’s a profound statement I think I prefer his comment over 20 years earlier:

“It’s more fun to be a pirate than to join the navy.” [1982, quoted in Odyssey: Pepsi to Apple, 1987]

Steve Jobs. Innovator. Visionary. Genius. Rest in peace.

Image credit: MattsMacintosh

'Generous' advertising?

2011-10-03T12:23:40Z

As I write this, I’m also on Facebook. Go on – judge me, to your heart’s content (it’s not as though I’ll ever know)… you can even pretend that you never waste time on social media if you like; I won’t mind.

Whether you poke your mates on Facebook, annoy them with endless Tweets (concerning your dog’s diabetes, or uneventful supermarket trip), or are familiarising yourself with the shiny new Google+, the likelihood is that all this increased screen-time will inevitably result in exposure to more adverts.

When we throw open a newspaper or magazine, we are subjected to a visual bombardment of colourful, glitzy ads. Granted, in some ways these are targeted – in that the nature of the adverts will be specific to the genre of magazine (beauty, fishing, baby, sports, music, etc). But compared to the advertising in the world of social media, they are inanely generic.

On my Facebook homepage, at this very minute, the following ads are showing:

Free Solar Installation
3 Foods That Kill Belly Fat
Intelligent Divorce (offering to save me legal fees during my divorce)
Free Bible Software

I shudder to think what this implies about my internet habits, or Facebook Profile, or wherever it is ‘they’ get their ‘shopping preferences’ data from. Having run a Facebook ad myself, I’m aware that it’s possible to be quite specific about your target audience. We can only assume that such ads (on the internet in general) will become increasingly particular to us, as individuals. Sometimes (but not always) the ads I see, when I can be bothered to glance their way, are so me it’s absurd.

So, as Generous / ethical consumers, ought we to be concerned? Terrified? Angry? Should we consider boycotting each and every form of social media (or pretend to)?

On the one hand, advertising in general is infuriating, and the less we are exposed to it the better. It often urges us to buy what we don’t need. It promotes feelings of unworthiness and dissatisfaction: If you don’t own this, you won’t be trendy. If you don’t own this, you won’t look gorgeous/manly/younger.

But on the other hand, the more targeted and focused the ads become, presumably, the more potential they have to be advantageous to us, as Generous shoppers. Ads that tell us where we can buy reasonably-priced fair trade jeans (I’m still on the look out for these!). Ads that urge us to switch to environmentally-friendly toilet cleaner. Ads that remind and/or encourage us to ‘give a goat’ to Uncle Bob at Christmas, and so on.

Perhaps we ought to embrace these technological advances and make them ‘work for us’, so to speak; use them for good and not for… spending money we probably don’t have on ‘stuff’ we most certainly don’t need.

Right, I’m off to check out that solar installation. I’ll give the ‘intelligent divorce’ a miss, however. I don’t require their services. Not unless the omniscient god of the internet knows something I don’t!

Underground Acts of Kindness

2011-07-29T06:29:52Z

Don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a series of posters appearing on the London Underground, inspired by artist Michael Landy. He asked members of the public to come up with tales of nice things that have happened to them while travelling on the Tube. Surprisingly, given the normally competitive and sometimes unfriendly environment that can pervade the Underground, there were over 100 stories submitted. Here’s a few:

One physiotherapist from Northern Ireland visiting her daughter in London commented: “I was so impressed how Tube staff came to give me directions without me asking. They were always smiling.”

“I was in the pit of a severe depression, sitting on the tube, staring at my knees, trying not to cry. I could just see the man opposite me, folding a piece of paper. The train stopped and in my lap the man placed the piece of paper, which he had folded into a beautiful little white horse. He smiled and left the train. A light appeared in the pit.”

“I’ve been travelling on the tube regularly with my son since he was 5 weeks old and what has enabled me to do this is that regardless of which station we are at someone always stops to help me lift his buggy up and down stairs. People say that Londoners can be unfriendly but my experience of travelling with a small child is exactly the opposite.”

“On a Friday night I boarded the train dressed up ready to go out and thinking I looked the bee’s knees. A woman came up to me, and very kindly, and quietly, told me I had my skirt tucked into my knickers.”

“Between Victoria and Vauxhall, I was weeping. A woman asked me gently, “Are you alright, my dear?” And I said, “No. My father died.” She moved to sit next to me and held my hand. I talked about my father’s love. She talked about losing her son. She closed her eyes, and as she prayed to Jesus, I prayed to Allah, for the strength to walk that chasm where grief resides. At Vauxhall, I left, saying goodbye to a woman whose name I do not know, but who had reached deep into my heart.”

One poster simply states: “I found I was a few pennies short when I went to buy my ticket. The person in the queue behind me spontaneously offered me some change. I was embarrassed but it really helped me out.”

The posters are all along the Central line – Holborn, St Paul’s and Liverpool Street currently, to be followed by Holland Park, Leyton and Hangar Lane – which Landy has used all his life. “I’m intrigued why people are prepared to help a complete stranger,” he said. “I find these acts of kindness really life-enhancing. But I’m not trying to tell people to behave kindly, I’m trying to inspire them.” (There is also a Kindness Offensive group that give out cuddly toys to children on the Tube as well.)

A wise person once told me: “Our character is revealed by how we treat those who cannot help us or hurt us.”

Simple acts of kindness on the Tube. I like it.

To see the posters, click here.

Postscript

_Funnily enough, all this talk about the kindness of strangers is having echoes in my life at the moment.

My youngest lad (he’s 17) has just come back from a holiday in the Med with his school friends. One day he actually passed out from dehydration (for some reason he was separated from his friends) and a young lady managed to get him to a nearby medical practice where he could get on a drip and recover. He never managed to thank her properly as she left the island that day. It could have been quite tricky for him but for this very generous and kind act by this person.

I was listening to Absolute Radio coming into work this morning. One of the breakfast team had come in from Reading by asking listeners to give him a lift. He made it into the studio in two hours by getting three lifts almost immediately. It was intriguing to hear the DJ talking about random acts of kindness by strangers on the radio. It’s more common than we think!_

The Death of Altruism?

2011-05-25T09:02:54Z

Last night I watched a programme about the rising role of computers in society – ‘All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace’ (what an incredible title!). Intriguingly, it looked in detail at the life and work of Ayn Rand, the free market philosopher and author, and her emphasis on self-interest and rational thought. She argued that people should simply look after themselves – not other people. Even love was a result of people seeing virtues in others that they wanted. She proposed an affair with one of her followers (who was already married) because “it was the rational thing to do”. She had followers from the highest strata of society. Alan Greenspan, ex-Chairman of the US Federal Reserve, 1987-2006, was a member of her inner circle – known as ‘The Collective’ – and became a loyal friend. They would meet at her flat in New York to hear her read from the latest draft of the novel she was writing. Rand named her philosophy “Objectivism”, describing its essence as "the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.”

The connection with computers? Her most well-known works of fiction – ‘The Fountainhead’ (which led to her rise to fame) and ‘Atlas Shrugged’ (panned by the critics) – were actually of major significance among the pioneers of the Internet in the early 90s in America, such as Larry Ellison, the founder of Oracle, and Kevin Kelly, founder of Wired magazine. Some of them even named their children after her. These digital entrepreneurs found her philosophy powerful and alluring, giving them a raison d’être for living and providing a driving force for their corporate power-building. It was all bit Wall Street (‘Greed is good’), focussing on the power and money to be gained by putting yourself firmly at the front of the queue.

But maybe Rand had a point. I recently heard Nick Hurd, government minister for the Big Society, talking on Radio 4 about how Britain was a generous country. However, he then seemed to go and contradict himself by coming up with a fascinating statistic I’d not heard before: 8% of the UK are responsible for 49% of its giving. It’s not exactly Pareto – the Italian economist who observed that 80% of his national land was owned by only 20% of the population, and coined the 80/20 rule – but it’s not far off. I remember at school many years ago (don’t ask) one lad wandering round with a badge which simply had ‘7:84’ written on it. He was (he claimed) a Communist and the badge represented the unequal allocation of global resources: 7% of the world own 84% of its resources. It may still be the same now – or probably even worse. So although thinking of others – or altruism, to use a posh word – may not have completely vanished, perhaps we are always relying on the other person to do it for us?

Last week I went from door to door to collect for an international development organisation. I have to say (based on a small sample – about 45 houses) I was surprised at people’s generosity and willingness to give; only 3 people refused (very politely). The following day I went on a sponsored walk for the same organisation around the Chilterns. It was a beautiful day with the English countryside at its finest. On chatting to my fellow walkers I commented, being a first timer at this event, that the organisers and the people at the checkpoints, were not exactly spring chickens (let’s be nice and say the average age was probably low sixties). Apparently, these good people had been doing this marvellous work for years. However, I wondered what would happen when they needed replacing – who would take over? Is it just the same people who keep doing the good stuff? The elite philanthropists? The hard core of generous souls who give of their time and resources for the greater good? Are we only motivated by what we can really get out of it? Dare I ask: are we, as Generous people, actually involved in this wonderful experiment out of ulterior motives? Giving up our cars because actually it cost too much anyway (and I was never into mechanics). Avoiding plastic bags because those ones for life are so nice and well designed? Switching to energy-saving light bulbs because, over time, they do save me more money – oh, and they save the earth, too. Forgive me. I am simply playing devil’s advocate to generate a response here. But do analyse your motives: I would love to hear what you think.

Pictured: Ayn Rand

The Paradox of Choice

2011-01-10T10:46:39Z

I used to work for Walkers, a crisp company, and when I was there (many years ago) the options on flavours were simple: ready salted, salt & vinegar and cheese & onion. At the time we were just starting to work on Doritos and branching out to … barbeque beef (radical, I know). Now when I walk down the snacks aisle at my local supermarket – and it is a whole aisle – I am amazed by the choices of flavours: everything from Thai Sweet Chilli to Chicken Tikka Masala to Locust (OK, I may have made that one up). There are variations in shape (crinkle-cut, reduced fat, thick ridge et al) as well as options around size (six pack, 20-packs, grab bags, party size etc – with or without dips). We seem to just take this for granted and accept that it is our inalienable right to have options on almost anything, whether it’s crisps, clothes, travel or even life insurance. Apparently, Tesco stocks 91 varieties of shampoo alone. Take the way we look. You can have most parts of your body enhanced and improved (for a price). I was reading in The Economist over Christmas that in America in 2008 there were 2.5m Botox injections, 355,671 breast implants, 341,144 liposuctions treatments, 195,104 eyelid lifts and 147,392 stomach tucks. Because, after all, once we have the perfect body everyone will like us, right?

However, I don’t know if you have ever been faced with too many choices – like sitting in a shoe shop and looking at eight options perhaps – but it can actually have the opposite effect. Instead of providing liberation it actually causes more stress. Some choice is good but more choice is not necessarily so. In fact, management studies in the whole area of consumer marketing have shown that offering too many options not only confuses customers but increases costs and adds to complexity in the production process, thereby increasing the chance of errors on the factory floor. One study in 2006 suggested that reducing complexity and narrowing choice can boost revenues by 5-40% and cut costs by 10-35%.

I guess the key phrase here is that choice exists – at a price. Last November I had the opportunity to visit Cambodia with a development charity and engage with its local partner on some of their projects. We stayed in Poipet, a dusty, almost Wild West, border town in the north-west of the country. There’s one major road that goes through the town, built about 18 months ago by the Chinese, but once you get off the road it is significant that most people in Poipet get around on motorbikes – because it is easier to avoid the potholes. The Rough Guide to Cambodia (which I read on the plane) suggested that you might want to consider moving through Poipet rather than stopping there. It has nine casinos all next to each other – so the Thais can cross the border to gamble – and is heavily involved in sex trafficking, especially among children, even as young as three years old. It’s only redeeming feature, according to the Guide, was a restaurant whose profits go to social projects. It turned out the restaurant was actually owned by the local partner we were visiting, so that was encouraging. The kind of projects we got involved in ranged from education (‘school on a mat’ – literally what it says: when you’re on the mat you’re in school; if it rains it’s ‘school under a mat’), safe havens (schools for children at risk from the sex trafficking trade, where they can both live in safety and learn), HIV/AIDS support, microfinance loans to farmers all the way through to motorbike repair and sewing workshops for teenagers (so they can learn a trade and eventually set up their own business).

One day we were out in a remote part of the country, interviewing two farmers. One farmer remarked that he used to work over the border for a Thai construction company but he was made redundant. However, now that he had a loan he could grow his own crops, sell the produce in the local market, make a living and – most importantly – send his children to school. He felt he was now in control of his destiny, rather than being subject to the whims of (un)employment with big business. Let me just say that his average day was not easy. There had recently been widespread floods in the area and most of their crops had been wiped out. However, being the hardworking and flexible people that Cambodians are, the farmer simply replanted the crops. He showed me two large watering cans that were held together by a long piece of wood that went over his shoulders so he could carry both of them at the same time. Each morning he walks down to the river and fills them up so he can water his crops. The walk to the river is not far but it is steep and slippery. Every morning he goes down to the river and fills up his watering cans – fifty times. Then in the afternoon, he does the same thing – fifty times. Needless to say, he looked pretty fit! When we arrived at the farm I remember getting out the van and looking around the deserted fields to find out where the farmer and his family lived. His house (if you can call it that) was a band-aid of wood and corrugated iron, hidden next to a tree. Yet he is happy. He does not have much money – even by Cambodian standards – and he does not have an awful lot of choices. But, thanks to the work of the local partner, he has one or two more choices than before.

It struck me we have forgotten the art of working within limitations – and the creativity and resourcefulness that can generate. It is a paradox: more choice creates less happiness; less choice – and more constraints – creates a greater sense of liberation. In the rich West, the call to ‘voluntary simplicity’ may not be the backward step it is often painted. It may actually be the road to freedom.

Christmas shopping

2010-11-16T10:05:18Z

Need something to stroke your ego this Christmas? How about a life-size replica of yourself – in Lego blocks? The artist in question (from New York, of course) will make the likeness from a photo, for a mere £37,000.

Too showy? Something a little more discreet then: a diamond thong. A favourite of Beyonce, this particular undergarment is encrusted with 518 diamonds (30-carat) and valued at £75,000.

And if we find ourselves tut-tutting and raising our eyebrows, deeming these celebrity-style gifts outlandishly lavish and a waste of money … then what about us?

When it comes to money, who’s to judge what’s ‘wasteful’ and what’s ‘normal’? Is spending several hundred pounds on Christmas presents for our children and extended family outlandish? Not to us it’s not. But to those who wonder where their next meal is coming from, perhaps it is. To those who crave clean drinking water… to those who wonder which of their children will be the next to die… to those who, through no fault of their own, live trapped in extreme poverty.

The solution? If only I had one. While my empathy for the poor is great, my desire to treat my kids at Christmas is equally great.

So, what about presents for adults? It’s an issue I struggle with each and every year. While I may lean towards giving them all cards informing them that they’ve been ‘given a goat’ (for Africa) … it’s more than likely they’ll be rather less enthusiastic.

In the hope this might help just a little – I can tell you that one of my favourite presents last Christmas was some homemade truffles. Inexpensive, yet made ‘just for me’, with much care and love. If I possessed any culinary skills whatsoever, everyone would have truffles from me this year. In all likelihood, I’ll end up opting for not-too-pricey presents, and even buy second hand where possible (Amazon and eBay are great for this, especially when it comes to DVDs, books, CDs, etc).

And when people ask what’s on my wish list, I’ll ask for a cow, a goat, some worms and perhaps even a toilet. But, being human, I’ll also request some luxuries (hoping that my truffle-making friend is still in a truffle-making mood) … but nothing even remotely involving either lego or diamonds.

Flickr photosource – thanks LostCarPark

Breathe Deeply and Be Original

2010-10-07T09:10:44Z

Occasionally in the IT industry (where I work) someone comes up with an idea that really annoys lots of people. In 2003 Nick Carr wrote a brilliant article (and a subsequent book) for Harvard Business Review (HBR) called ’IT doesn’t matter’. The basic theme was that IT has become a commodity and lost its ability to have an impact on a company’s direction or strategy. So many IT execs wrote to HBR to refute this that the following issue had to include a special supplement just for the 15 pages of letters from angry CIOs (that’s Chief Information Officers i.e. the guys in charge of IT). So, I figure, he must be doing something right.

He’s just recently published another book, The Shallows, which explores how using the internet is actually changing the way we think. Just as watching TV or reading a book has an impact on the neurology of the brain (stick with me here) so does using the internet. It’s almost as if it is rewiring our thought processes. Its frequency, intensity and interactivity actually drives “the promotion of cursory reading, hurried and distracted thinking and superficial learning,” according to Carr.

OK. So you can now assimilate data faster, multi-task and network, often laterally, via a range of social media (twitter, facebook etc). But the bad news is that it means you have less ability to focus and concentrate and less memory power due to a reliance on stored, searchable information. According to Carr, businesses think that this “highly wired, highly collaborative, perpetually distracted mode of working and thinking … (is) the only mode that needs to be encouraged … they confuse a picture of lots of apparent activity with high levels of productivity and creativity.” Businesses judge people based on their ability to process lots of data and messages quickly. The issue: erosion in the quality of decision-making, innovative thinking and problem-solving. Shallow, ‘skimmed’ understanding is no substitute for original thinking.

Of course, there are times when you need to get information as quickly as possible – and Google/Wikipedia is great for getting a conventional view. However, the next step, Carr argues, is to think deeply about the data you’ve gathered, which means shielding yourself from distractions and reflecting on alternative ways of looking at the information. Technology seems to be forcing us into thinking only about the first stage: the speed at which we can gather information, rather than what we do with it and how we reflect on it.

Is our obsession with social media, for example, and the gadgets that make it possible to connect to it (Blackberries, iPhones et al) actually causing us to undervalue the reflective sides of our lives? As we dash through emails, texts, voicemails and tweets do we forget to ask the question posed by T.S. Eliot in 1934: ‘Where is the life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?’ (Choruses from The Rock). Is reflection and meditation simply hogwash for people who can’t keep up with us? Are we raising a generation of children who expect instant gratification? Who find it hard to focus? Constantly distracted by the next text? Are we just as bad?

I recently came across a poem (sadly, I don’t know anything about the author – perhaps you do?) entitled Towards a True Balance which I felt captured this issue for me:

Be mindful!
Husband the earth
Protect her from greed and violence
Build humbly, plant trees, grow flowers and food
And clothe her with dignity
Respect all her creatures
Honour her natural laws and the universe which cradles her
Above all, heartily worship the source of all that is.

This world needs secret heroes!
Be brave, speak the truth, heal the sick, make peace
Be strong, serve patiently, love generously, live simply
Enjoy fellowship, eat and drink modestly, celebrate the festivals
Breathe deeply, sing and make music, walk often, cycle and recycle
Be thrifty, prefer cash flow to possession, give good measure
Let your work be your prayer.

Put on the whole armour of light!
Unearth the beauty in everything
Inhale the Spirit of goodness
Kindle kindness, especially towards yourself
Embracing the sweet silence of your soul
Fear nothing
Accept what you are
And – while you have breath – give thanks.

I love those phrases ‘breathe deeply’ and ‘embracing the sweet silence of your soul’. Rather than be drowned in the tsunami of data that surrounds us, slow down, think deeply – and be original.

Flickr photosource – thanks Hljod.Huskona