Dynamic Hypocrisy

It’s not a new feature, but it’s become indispensable to me. The ability to snooze an email to a set date and time. 

It allows me to make assessments about when I would actually or should deal with something. Also as an easy reminder to conversation, or when I should add a thank you note if we had a phone call. 

Google’s Inbox additional feature of reminders is a variation in being a godsend. Quick notes, chores, things to read later. All of these things I can time to the correct and reasonable time frame of when to do them.

My to-do lists and calendar have slowly faded into the background, and Inbox has become the nerve center. 

So snoozing can be dangerous feature for some people. It lets people kick tasks down the road over and over. But I’ve added a signal to it. If I find myself constantly snoozing something, then you have to admit to yourself that you don’t want to do it. So you either let it go, do it, or cancel it entirely. It’s a moment of truth. 

I snooze everything that I don’t handle right away, and added repeated reminders up to its logical extreme. (I have a reminder to change toothbrushes every three months. It’s great.) 

I’ve been trying to distill what a dollar means. 

Seeing that every dollar is considered the same, that every dollar can buy the same donut says each person with a dollar has something essentially the same. 

But not every one will buy the same said donut. Some will choose not to, some will not even know about the donut, and some might be denied the donut despite having the dollar (the reason by the external denier that, well, may vary to infinity. But we’ll get back to that.)

But barring that we all have mostly agreed that a dollar can buy anything that valued less than that dollar. And also to a lesser degree, we all agreed that the person possessing that dollar can choose virtually anything with that dollar. 

I say lesser because most of us wouldn’t protest to someone buying a donut, or instead buying an apple. But if it was used for cocaine, then we get into murky territory.

But in a way, we could say that a dollar represents both something priced at a dollar, but at the same time—it’s a symbol that the collective we is letting something make a decision. It’s agency. 

If a person takes a donut, then it’s stealing. But if that same person has a dollar, then it’s perfectly fine. 

So there’s an individualistic function of agency and making decisions. But getting back to the denier, there is a collective function of valuation. 

The collective (or specifically, a market) decides that a person has agency (they earned a dollar through work. We collectively deemed their work worth letting make an independent decision.) But the collective we also decided that a donut worth a dollar while a car is tens of thousands of dollars. But deeper still, we judge the decisions of the individual after the fact. 

You bought a donut, it’s unhealthy but we get it. You bought cocaine, that’s bad and we will now restrict your future decision-making or agency (jail)

All of this is fairly obvious. But this gets interesting in an increasingly granular world. The notion of credit and digital currency is making an-once tangible symbol (currency) invisible, and returning back to its more primal form (agency, humans making decisions.) While our logistic systems (complete digital records of purchasing, user behavioral tracking) is making the collective side more automated and holistic.

Or to articulate each phenomenon in another way. Socialism presupposes a system of the collective dispersing to its individuals, but has always been hampered by scaling issues. While capitalism focused on the individual, but lacked the speed to keep up efficiently (aka also scaling issues.)

So as we advance our technology pass our current point, we’ll start seeing a system that is able to see both frameworks to their fullest expression. And ironically, as we traditionally deemed the two opposed to each other, they will increasingly look like the same system in the future.

Given the ramblings of the previous post, it’s my belief that currency is just a symbol the collective allowing an individual to make a decision. 

Before currency, any particular tribe or group could track their individuals and make judgements in real-time. Tim can go play in the forest because Tim finished his chores. Garrett can stay in that house because Garrett earned that space.

The other simple concept is that we attached the label “Tim” and “Garrett” to two unique individuals so the collective can identity which person has decision-making power, how much, and what is attached to those decisions (chores, forest, land, house.)

So identity is as important as the ability to make decisions. 

Given that, future generations are gonna be rather curious to how cheaply we, the current generation, valued notions of privacy, user tracking, and identity. 

So I’m dog-sitting my friend’s dachshund, and had a thought when he was watching me put on lotion. How much does a dog comprehend lotion? The function of relieving dry skin? The act of putting on lotion? The creaminess of lotion disappearing into skin?

If he needed lotion, and I put lotion on him—would he understand what was happening? That there was dryness or an itch, and now it’s better because of the lotion? 

Or is the very fact that it’s doesn’t irritate as much as a moment ago enough of the experience to understand or feel?

That relates to design, right? How much does your user need to know that something is designed? That decisions were made for their benefit?

Or is the simple notion that something is fixed enough for the experience? Or is there unique human pleasure in knowing? Is it worth making known for them, or is it just for the creator’s ego?

Last month, I underwent a personal website redesign. I started sketching and coding and googling and photo fixing and all the things you do when you redesign. And after two weeks of feverish tinkering and building, I had a video call with a fellow designer. He was checking in, and asked to take a peek. I obliged, and was feeling pretty good. 

And then he gave the look. That look that happens when you’re brain is searching how to say something nicely. 

And I went “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” 

What I made wasn’t bad, but it was also entirely too much. Part of this change was stirred by the fact that I had been doing one type of design for five years. I gained good domain knowledge, but it also had its natural boundaries.

So when I had the chance to do anything with a project, namely my own site, and being my own client — I didn’t say “no” to any idea. So for two weeks, I implemented every idea that popped in my head. It was fun. It was joyful. And the result was something completely unusable. 

After the call, I took the evening off. I watched some TV, ate dinner, slept. And when I woke up, I pushed aside two weeks of design and code, I started fresh. It sucked from a timeline perspective, I put a deadline on myself, and losing two weeks was hard.

But in the end, it was for best. It turned out a lot better than I would have. Also, I ripped out pieces of the previous version into their own show pieces. Not everything was lost.

I also say it was for best even relative to the “lost” two weeks. I needed to do that. I needed to flex, and explode, and be joyful for a short moment. Both phases were ultimately needed for the project, and I’m glad it happened. 

I took my first took to SE Asia two months ago. And while I didn’t get those powerful life-changing revelations from travel. I did get something valuable. 

I got permission to design.

Long ago, I got the chance to go to a fancy private college where I met pleasantly awkward people where I could be awkward myself. And there, we would joke about “social constructs.” The concept that many rules and ways of living are completely made up. That we drive on the right side of the road simply because someone decided it a long time ago. Or that people can own land. Or that red means “stop and look around.” 

That said, it’s easy to forget about our own social constructs. Or rather, you have to. Spending too much time thinking about it means you wouldn’t even get out of bed in the morning. Nor be able to exist with human beings without being “that guy.”

What was great about SE Asia, however, is that you’re reminded that it’s okay to think about it a little bit. It takes a minute on the road in Vietnam or Thailand to realize that those markings on the road mean nothing. Scooters zip in-and-out. Trucks honk randomly while backing into alleys that don’t fit them. 

But the most impressive thing to me was the architecture. Not that it was all great. Actually the opposite. Most of it couldn’t been human-livable. But there it was. New, old, big, small all of it jutted and squished next to each other. Each one painted a completely random color. Sky blue, neon green, purple, pink. Any color was possible around the corner.

So back to design. Fine arts did teach me that you can break the rules given that you know why they exist. That’s simple enough. But what SE Asia emphasized, on top of that, is that dissonance and disjointed are truly valid. That such things say something unique, and has a place beyond just rebelling against a rule. That it can exist within its self and within its own logic. 

It’s really freed up how I approach a solution, especially as I’ve started redesigning my website.

My first notion of trend cycles was watching the “Red-Green” show. A really random show that PBS late night would show. I think it was Canadian? In a weird way, it was a variety show with monologues and skits. The main character was an older bearded man. And one of his monologues was speaking to kids wearing baggy clothes. (This was the 90s.)

Basically he premised that old people has been wearing baggy clothes forever now, and kids are just copying their grandpa’s style. 

It was the first time I heard of that concept. Soon you would notice “flare jeans” being the denim revival of 70s bell-bottom pants. 80s synths would come back after the 90s made fun of them. Roughly decade chunks of time.

But we’re reaching an interesting pace now. Technology cycles and the speed of consumption seems be speeding up the cycles. The usage patterns of common apps seem vary greatly even with people only 2-3 years apart. 

How a 16-year old as compared to a 18-year old to 22 to 26 to 30 seem like vast chasms. Even with something like Facebook or Tumblr or Tinder. 

I wonder if there’s a limit to the time compression? Would a cycle ever be a year? Or months? 

Or compressed so quickly that maybe trends cease to exist? That all permutations exist within the same time frame? 

If a fashion trend can be documented by a website instantaneously, consumed worldwide, and then fed back into the original source—what’s the shortest practical duration for it to live, die, and then revived?  

A vacation is nice is in that you get to simplify. You can reduce the variables you have to think about. Work, obligations, (ideally budget…) 

It also allows for analyzing life on a simpler scale. And something I’ve experimented with is how much planning versus spontaneity to allow in a vacation. 

I’m a natural planner. It energizes me to look things up, and to sequence out activities. Preparing for plan b’s and plan c’s tickles my brain. 

So during my last road trip, I prepped two spreadsheets. One was the destinations with distances and approximate times. The other was a list of restaurants and their key dishes for every possible stop. If I had to stop for gas at the Arizona border, then I knew there was Mtn. Quail Diner in the city of Quartzsite. 

Or that in Phoenix, where my friend lived, there was a taco joint that used be a church. (They were great tacos by the way.) 

But a great thing happened after Phoenix. I took out my spreadsheet, looked at Phoenix, and right after it — I crossed out a good dozen lines. 

Why?

Because my friend told me about Arcosanti. A self-sufficient town about an hour north of Phoenix. They made bells and held tours to make money. It was weird, strange, and fantastic. 

After a lifetime of being super rigid, I’ve loosened up a bit and found my happy medium between the two. Neither hard-line planners or free-spirit wanderers would be happy with me, but that’s okay. 

Been thinking about “being true to yourself.” It never quite sat right with me. 

It always seemed too validating of the id, the pure inner impulse while being negligent of “be considerate of others.” It lacked context and nuance. 

So where I’m getting to is to know my own personality traits. But that in any given circumstance, each trait can be helpful or detrimental. 

A straightforward example is having a sense of humor, but being at a funeral. There’s nothing wrong with that trait, but lacking awareness of the situation and context.

Where it gets more subtle is something like confidence or playfulness. I assumed confidence would be good in all situations, but I think I found enough examples where it turned into hubris. Or playfulness can change into being oblivious if the people and relationships aren’t taken in account.

I need to know this the most when it comes to the creative process. There’s a flow to a project. And sometimes it needs expansive boundless playfulness like during brainstorming. But later it’ll need rigor and carefulness. 

Rigor too early is being myopic. Boundlessness too late is being aimless. 

I’ve always worried that it was just an excuse to be supplicant or lacking backbone. But the overarching requirement is awareness. And it’s not about bringing your “true” self, but rather your best self to the situation. 

 

Our (the collective “our” / humanity per se) relationship to reality has never been more complicated. And that was before “fake news” was a phrase. At this moment, I’m thinking about this post-blog age of the internet when it’s become commonplace for people to post their opinions at scale.

Because it makes wonder about personal truths versus universal truths. 

Perhaps it’s an offshoot of being child, or perhaps an artifact of life before the internet, but I had this notion of an universal truth. That there are things unassailable, and perceived the same by everyone. The grass is green, the sky is blue.

And then at some point I learn that color is social construct, and not everyone sees the same color even if they’re looking at the same object. (Let’s not rehash blue/gold dress)

But by accepting the lack of universal truths, reality becomes a murky and complex thing to transverse (again, it always has been, but it’s much more murky if you have to spend time questioning the sky’s blueness.) 

It’s also becomes more problematic, when we’ve allowed personal truths to be broadcasted on the scale of the internet. Or in a way, allowing personal truths to be broadcasted on the scale of universal truths. 

Especially when the complementary tools of analysis and discourse themselves haven’t quite scaled up to match. 

(I also acknowledge the irony of talking about this from a personal blog. It’s like a printing posters about saving trees, but here we are.)