Artisans and Infrastructure.
It's all about connection
Earlier this week, I spent a day in London meeting friends I had not seen face-to-face for a while. The time together was wonderful with all the connection increments we do not get virtually, although it cruelly exposed a tired infrastructure. Expensive, unreliable trains. A tube system built for, at best, much smaller twentieth-century populations and a centre with notably emptier big office blocks.
What could have been done virtually in a couple of hours took fourteen hours face to face. A combination of overtime bans, ticket classifications, management avoidance of responsibility, and old working habits accounted for the twelve-hour difference.
One of the joys of making time, or having time forced upon us, in a day is what creeps in that we did not expect. In this case, the nature of the infrastructure that carries the work of an artisan, whether physical or mental. From pots to poetry, deeds to design.
The moment the work leaves our control, into the hands of a carrier, or to a manager, or any entity that sits between us and the client, we lose control. Whether it’s a paywall, a signup form, or a website, it’s far too easy to create clunky infrastructure. No matter how much thought, care and attention we have put into it, key aspects of our reputation are in the hands of someone else. If we have an infrastructure anything like the one I got enmeshed in yesterday, our work gets diluted, if, in fact, it arrives at all.
As our organisations scale, Metcalfe’s Law says the number of connections increases exponentially, making the emotional complexity enormous—lots of room for a bad carrier. Paradoxically though, the idea of “six degrees of separation” also applies.
Whilst there is some debate over precise multipliers, the general principles hold true. There is a shorter, more direct, more artisanal route to connect with the individual(s) our work is intended for. As employees, of course, we’re unlikely to have a say, but as artisans, we do. It’s part of our craft - to select and nurture the ecosystem that carries our work.
As most work becomes more automated and algorithmic, employees will find themselves enclosed in systems they neither influence nor control.
All the more reason then to establish our own as we identify, rehearse, experiment and practice a craft we are willing to commit to, which can provide a sanctuary from day-to-day tedium, and a lifeboat if and when being an employee comes to a screeching halt.
Craft is the hard work. Connection the reward.
— Kae Tempest, On Connection
I came across an interesting example today. Shopping at #M&S. Hadn't been for ages, only to find that to cut costs they have moved to fully automated tills. Whoever designed the system didn't have a craft mindset, because the experience and clunkiness was sufficient not to complete the transaction. Infrastructure at its most dismal.
Poignant, because back in the day I was a buyer there, and witnessing its journey from distinctive family owned icon to disappearing into a morass of mediocrity is sad.
It's a great point. I'm currently reading “on craftsmanship” by Christopher Frayling, and he talks about “invisible colleges of the mind” as a mode of connection. I like me that, it resonates with the point I think you're making. When he have so many routes and choices, how should we choose?