Observed

When Odysseus left for the Trojan War, he realized he needed help while he was away.  So, Odysseus asked his friend, Mentor, to be in charge of his son, Telemachus, and his palace until he returned.

While the meaning has changed a bit, we still seek and offer mentoring.

What’s the best platform for such a trusted relationship?  According to my friend, Nick Gargala, Ed.D., the best results occur when the mentoring happens face to face.  In interviews for his recent dissertation, Nick found that over the phone is a distant second, and e-mail mentoring is the weakest.

Where trust is important to a relationship (e.g., in business development), the more personal the better.

Seth just posted a thought about the importance of relationships and how to build/maintain them.  “The experience I have with you as a customer or a friend is far more important than a few random bits flying by on the screen.”

My advice?

• Be tangible.
• Be tangible.
• Be tangible.

So, touch somebody.  Do something tangible.  Any questions?

The Andon cord is central to Toyota, Opel and other Deming-esque management models.  It’s the cord you’ll find throughout the factory and at each work station, ready to be pulled if the production process must be immediately stopped.

Who may pull the Andon cord?  Anyone may, even the lowest-ranking member of the team.

That’s part of the beauty of the system.  Anyone is empowered to pull the cord.

The real beauty of the Andon cord, however, is that it’s so very there — whether it’s used or not.  By its physical, tangible presence, everyone is constantly reminded that they matter.  The Andon cord is a clear and constant tangible symbol that they are part of.

Which, Toyota’s recent troubles notwithstanding, seems to work really well.

Here’s an excerpt from a blog I recently started following.  It’s a post about Apple’s head industrial designer, Jonathan Ive, and the process he used for the iPhone 4:

“It’s very hard to learn about materials academically, by reading about them or watching videos about them; the only way you truly understand a material is by making things with it,” Ive explains, going on to add that years upon years of making his own models with his own hands is what gave him a deep understanding of the materials he’s worked. “And it’s important to develop that appetite to want to make something, to be inquisitive about the material world, to want to truly understand a material on that level.”

I couldn’t help but think of the Roycrofters.  These American arts-and-crafters espoused the same kind of creative process over a century ago.  The furniture, books and other everyday objects they designed, built and fabricated expressed the exact nature of the materials used.

Ive, Apple and the Roycrofters understood.  They found the true nature of the materials in their products.  They knew that for the user to be the most pleased required total honesty and that this required gemba.

We tend to make major, lasting impressions based on the smallest, seemingly insignificant details.

This morning’s New York Times has an excellent article by Matt Bai offering a political angle to this truism.  While the hook was President Obama’s handling of the Gulf oil spill, the piece mentioned how other presidents have suffered from (or dodged) negative public perceptions…or, how well they’ve projected a sense of control over the chaos of events around them.

Bai’s piece reminded me of Jimmy Carter and how a potentially obscure wildlife encounter helped further tip things in favor of Ronald Reagan in the 1980 presidential election.  While the Attack Rabbit Incident might have appeared otherwise innocent or silly, it fanned doubts about Carter’s  strength as much or more than the Iranian hostage crisis, economic woes and the like. (more…)

Seth reminded me this morning of the creative tension I see in myself.  Part of me is in a hurry to ship.  I’ve been given a deadline, I want to please and impress my client and so on.  Another part of me  understands that I need to slow down and just be with myself in order to create.

I would be wise to remember that most readers experience the same tension.  They, too, are being pulled in a million directions and are seeking balance — consciously or not.

So, what can I do to facilitate what they need to have happen?  How do I make life/work easier for others?  Others who have way too much on their plates.

The ones interested in a life with fewer traffic jams.

I’d like to think that I can write the way Doug Quinn tends bar.  At least some days.  Once in a while.

Read on.

Thanks, Frank Bruni.

Selling intangibles is hard work. A lot of architects, lawyers and other professional service providers have Web sites that make it even harder.

This clip outlines seven common weaknesses of such sites and offers suggested remedies. It’s based on an article originally published by MarketingProfs.com.

The more abstract the concept, the more we seem to crave the tangible.  So, serpents, forbidden fruit and other such symbols help us wrap our brains around the notions of sin, obedience to the divine and the like.

This applies to a lot of business writing.  Especially the kind I often do, the kind dealing with intangibles such as quality, client satisfaction, professionalism, and trust. (more…)

I almost always cringe when I find a typo or grammar error…particularly in my own work.  I’ll  beat up on myself for a few minutes and then usually rationalize my way into a low-grade, to-err-is-human sense of irritated acceptance.

Part of my cringe is for my clients.  They hate typos, too.  That’s because I believe they know or fear that their customers hate (or find delight) in typos and will judge my typo-ed client as somehow deficient.

In other words, mine is a trickle-down, perfectionist cringe. (more…)