Avoiding the Issue

When I’m assessing an argument, I always find it interesting to see who can say the most with the least. During the interview with Matt and Chris on Mixergy, interviewer Andrew Warner posed the question of what Pearson needed to do to bring his premium theme into compliance. Matt’s response: “He just has to say it’s the GNU GPL. That’s it.”

Warner queried Chris as to the impact this change would have on his business. Chris’s answer:

Well, I think it would have a variety of different impacts on the business. The most important one to me is simply my right as an individual to put out some creative work that is independent. WordPress did not empower me to write this software, I wrote all this stuff. I thought about all this stuff. I thought about all the data structures inherent to hosting a webpage. I’ve constructed this all myself. I take great pride in that. I, also, get a little bit defensive when all of that is attacked as if because WordPress existed prior to me coming up with all this stuff that is somehow have to adhere to something that was established beforehand. That’s not fair. That’s like charging our children with debt that we accrue now. I’m not in line with that philosophy. I think that’s terrible.

Feel something’s missing, like an answer? So did Warner and Mullenweg. When pressed to clarify, Chris responded:

One, it would require me to make a concession about something that I don’t think that I need to concede to…

The number two thing in how my business would be affected is if I was to go to GPL that means that anyone can take my code and do whatever they want with it for any purpose they please…

I kept waiting for Chris to argue the specific license parameters of why Thesis doesn’t need to be GPL. However, Pearson was so vague on that topic I had difficulty following his rationale why Thesis doesn’t need to adopt GPL.

Random Arguments

Despite the strong feelings on both sides of the argument, I’m intrigued by the randomness of Pearson’s arguments. He veers between saying I just don’t want to, to my work stands alone. At this point, he hasn’t said anything too eyebrow raising, but then we get to the point where Mullenweg points out that Chris has the option of building things for other platforms that are non-GPL. Chris responds with:

I guess my point in all of this is, if you are going to have a license, make it enforceable and enforce it. If you’re not, then don’t. This is all just a bunch of discourse over nothing. Actually, I think all that it’s doing, what it looks like, is enhancing my position and importance within the marketplace, which would seem to be a counterintuitive goal for you. You’d be better off saying nothing and trying to take me to court or doing something undercover, behind the scenes, something. Instead, you chose to fight this thing out front that leaves many question marks on both sides of the fence. I am not saying anything outrageous here. I think a reasonable person would hear this conversation and be genuinely confused about the sate [sic] of things. That’s what I think. You know, what does that really say about this whole thing?

If you follow Pearson’s logic, WordPress and Mullenweg aren’t serious because they aren’t enforcing the license, and if they were, they’d take Thesis to court.

Off the Rails

Despite his best intentions, Pearson doesn’t come out looking very good in this discussion. Even if you’re a Pearson advocate, this exchange between he and Matt doesn’t seem to advance his position is a positive way. For example, he looks particularly silly when he brings in the comparison that while attending college in Georgia “apparently it was illegal, in the Georgia State Doctrine, it was illegal to get a blowjob in the State of Georgia.”

Seriously? How does this point add to your argument? Why not introduce case law or other industry perspectives that support your position? Overall, Matt’s arguments end up stronger because he supports his position with points of reference that make sense (e.g., Free Software Foundation, Software Freedom Law Center, etc.). Again, whether you think Matt or Chris is right, it’s difficult to see how Chris advances his position using the arguments outlined in this discussion.

Too often we overlook the potential we have to advance our causes when we think carefully about the arguments we want to make. Passion isn’t enough when it comes to defending one’s position. The debate between Chris and Matt highlights what can happen when we refuse to analyze why we’ve taken a position and how to describe why we’re holding to that position.

There’s no question that this situation is an ugly one. There’s no question that more than one player bears responsibility for what happened a mile under the ocean. And there’s no question the president, either of this country [or BP for that matter], can fix this disaster. It’s a job for the experts, people who’ve trained for years in their field, but given our want-it-now attitudes, we’re upset they haven’t shot the silver bullet into the oil well.

We Want Heroes

In a perfect world, the people put in positions of immense authority (i.e. presidents of countries and companies) would be able to solve every problem that crosses their paths immediately. After all, they do have power. The reality is much murkier and more complicated than we like to acknowledge.

Contrary to popular opinion, President Obama can’t do much more than he’s doing at the moment. He isn’t an oil engineer, a deep-sea diver, or a scientist. Take him to task for not better managing the agencies he oversees, but stop following the crazy logic that he has magical powers he’s choosing not to use to cap the well. Does anyone believe he wouldn’t rather focus his time and attention on the million other things a president has to face?

BP Pays a Price

As I’ve listened to the commentators go on and on about BP’s failure to cap the well, I’ve heard little about the price it’s paying. [Yes, I'm aware it doesn't compare to the livelihoods lost by individuals.] BP may be a big company, but you’ve heard of dying by a thousand cuts. Lawsuits will last years, BP is literally bleeding as its product spews into the ocean, and off-shore drilling will be forever changed by this event.

BP and its contractors will be fined, heavily one suspects, and they’ve completely lost whatever ground they gained when they rebranded themselves as “beyond petroleum.” Be angry at BP for not being better prepared, for not asking more questions about fail safes. But keep in mind that BP wishes like everyone else that this had never happened. BP’s main goal is not to upset the entire ecosystem of the Gulf. It’s to make money. So when you’re yelling, “Why can’t BP fix the problem?” know they’re probably yelling the same question at each other.

Why Presidents Can’t Fix Disasters

If you believe that the guys on the ground aren’t giving it their all to fix this problem, I question your rationale. The only people who have anything to gain are proponents of alternative energy, and even they must cringe at the thought of benefiting openly from an oil spill.

In our 24/7 world we believe the solutions to problems should be immediate. We believe that all worse-case scenarios should have perfected reactions. And we believe that the man or woman who holds the highest office should be able to fix our problems. This argument isn’t political, but logistical. To assume that the guy or gal in charge is the road block to solving the problems we face gives him or her too much power.

You may have resources others do not as a president or leader, but those resources don’t necessarily work any better for you because they’re still manned by humans. You know, that imperfect creature you see in the mirror every day.

Challenge the systems that aren’t working. Challenge the people in charge to push for more information, for more answers. But don’t fall into the trap of believing one person can fix a disaster. I’d like to believe that if that was the case, said person would rise to the challenge, but we don’t elect or hire Superman or Wonder Woman. We hire real people, people like us who don’t always have the answers. If they’re incompetent, they need to be fired. If they fail to ask questions, they need to be fired. But if they’re doing everything that’s possible, we’re fools to set expectations that no one can live up to.

Faith can easily become an excuse instead of the reason for our actions. When we’re challenged, we must avoid the temptation to rely every time on faith alone. Doing so weakens our foundation and leaves us unprepared for the next challenge. Like the best vintage of wine, faith can improve with age, but if stored improperly or made of  poor stock can leave one bitter.

For all its inherent strength, faith is equally fragile. Our faith in each other is very easily lost through a thoughtless word or deed. Our faith in ourselves can easily slip when we fall short of  a goal. Our faith in big things—community, government, or religion—can blind us to possibilities because we’re often told that curiosity, or the questioning of faith, ultimately leaves us weaker.

When we lose the desire to ask questions because we fear for our faith, we’re truly lost. If what you believe, if what you’ve place your faith in, can’t withstand the challenge of questions, then what is your faith really about? At times, faith gives comfort, but faith can’t be your refuge from change. True faith, lasting faith, grows with time. Faith that sits, faith without action, only decays, leaving you empty handed.

For those who argue that faith is constant, I would challenge you that faith is constantly changing. We’re human, and in order to carry faith with us, it must adapt because we are no more the exact person today that we were yesterday or that we will be tomorrow. At times, faith’s fit may chafe as we struggle to align who we want to be with what we may be. If faith becomes too comfortable, we may resist the obligation to grow, to become a person of action versus reaction.

Every day you have a choice to act. The only question that remains is whether you have the faith to make that choice.

We tell ourselves that we’re either more or less than our real versions because we’re so rarely satisfied with what peers back from the mirror. On occasion, we indulge in honest introspection, but quickly hide away the results of our investigation, believing that since no one else is aware, we’re safe from discovery.

Throughout the stories we tell, we forget one thing: the only audience that truly matters is the internal one that knows the difference between fact and fiction. We believe we’re telling stories for the sake of those around us—parents, spouses, bosses, friends, children. However, if we’re doing the storytelling for others, why do we so often end up with plots that hurt the ones around us?

Two signature perspectives make up a common worldview: fate and self-determination. For the fateful person, life has already been determined and scripted. Fateful storytellers find themselves telling incredibly fanciful tales, full of the possibilities they believe life has denied them.

For the self-determined individual, anything is possible. Their stories are filled with extremes, both good and bad, because they can overcome anything or rise to the occasion as life demands. Between these two extremes lies the reality of wanting to effect a certain result, but realizing that many uncontrollable things will impact the outcome.

I focus on the story because it’s the tool we use in our pursuit of life. Politicians tell you a story about how life will be better if you vote for them. Marketers tell you a story about how life will be better if you buy their product. Parents tell you a story about how life will be better if you do what they say. Such stories often get described as “the truth” or “for your own good.” One must not forget that  stories come with strings and expectations that may not fit our personal script. One must also not forgot that there’s pieces of truth to value in each story.

Every day, you’ll tell yourself a story that includes parts of other people’s stories. The trick is to remember that it’s just a story, and tomorrow there will be another one to take its place.

I forgot my password.

More than the date of my last post, this loss of memory brings home how long it’s been since I’ve put my words on the screen. For the last few months, I’ve been tied up writing words for others. Along the way, I think I forgot that I needed my own. With that in mind here’s a brief review of some of the things that have tickled the edges of my mind during the last three months:

• Please tell me I’m not the only one that wishes the Democrats told the Republicans to go ahead and filibuster. Mind you, I have little liking for the health plan (doesn’t really fix the problem), but I have even less liking for the threats of bullies.
• Does the Christmas plane bomber feel surreal to anyone else? Smuggling explosives in underwear seems like a risky venture. What’s even more surreal is the notion that we’ll somehow be safer by stripping people via x-ray. Maybe I’m simple minded, but I always thought it better to ferret out an airplane plot before the plotter arrived at the airport. I’ve been through airport security enough to realize that TSA peeps are trying to do their job, but they’ve been handed an impossible mission. We all make mistakes at our jobs because we’re human. To think the TSA (or x-ray machines) won’t make a mistake creates a false sense of security. Whenever I enter a scanner in the future, my thought will be, “How much real intelligence could this thing pay for?”
• Does anyone really believe that Google’s threat to pull out of China wasn’t somehow connected to less than desired profits versus the attempts of hackers? Maybe I’m cynical, but I doubt that recent events are really the first time someone has attempted to hack the email accounts of people China likes to watch.
• I want to believe that out of the tragedy in Haiti good things can happen. But what are the odds that the people who need the help and donations the most will fall to the bottom again?
• Ben Bernanke, by the slimmest margin in history, was confirmed for a second term as Fed chairman. Now, whether you blame the man for the downfall of America or praise him for avoiding a second Great Depression, the fact remains that not reconfirming him would have made the market take a tumble. No matter how populist you are, your 401k would still take a hit (again). It’s very easy to say that he aided and abetted all the decisions that led to the financial meltdown, but we participated, too. You really want to remove the guy who seems to have a semi-decent handle on what’s happening from the steering wheel? Politicians trying to duck the target aimed at their back by pinning it to Bernanke’s seem hypocritical at best.
• For all that I’m not an Apple fanboi (or grrl, in this case), I was surprised at how little was surprising about the long-awaited iPad (besides the name). Maybe Apple set the bar too high, but the iPad seems like much less of a game changer than say the iMac or iPhone. Perhaps developers will turn it into something amazing, but if the iPad represents the future of Apple…

I’ll probably write in more detail about these topics and others in the weeks to come, but it seemed time to prime the pump.

He has accomplished much given his age, but has he really accomplished what one must to receive this level of recognition? Does his award decrease the value of past award winners?

Does Nobel Committee Chairman Thorbjoern Jagland have it right when he says, “We hope this can contribute a little bit to enhance what he is trying to do.”?

In this instance, I’m left to conclude that words carry as much weight as action. For once, I’m not sure that words are enough.

While real arguments exist that support both mindsets, they’ve been drowned out of the conversation. Instead we see news stories about “death panels,” the “morality” of passing health care reform, and boycotting Whole Foods. The Whole Foods story leaves me shaking my head. More than 17,000 people have joined the Facebook group, “Boycott Whole Foods.” Why? Here’s the official description:

John Mackey, CEO and co-founder of Whole Foods wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal on August 12, 2009 quoting Margaret Thatcher and suggesting that healthcare is a commodity that only the rich, like him, deserve. Whole Foods has built its brand with the dollars of deceived progressives. Let them know your money will no longer go to support Whole Foods’ anti-union, anti-health insurance reform, right-wing activities.

Here’s the link to the full editorial. I’ll leave you to decide whether you agree or disagree with Mackey. The fact remains that instead of talking about the merits of Mackey’s arguments, the focus became boycotting Whole Foods. Then, as borne out by comments on the Facebook page, the discussion veers into people’s other issues with Whole Foods.

After scrolling through a few of first pages, it became clear that the majority of commenters weren’t discussing the actual points raised in Mackey’s editorial.  For me, the first line of Mackey’s editorial raises the biggest question in this debate, regardless of what your position is on health care:

With a projected $1.8 trillion deficit for 2009, several trillions more in deficits projected over the next decade, and with both Medicare and Social Security entitlement spending about to ratchet up several notches over the next 15 years as Baby Boomers become eligible for both, we are rapidly running out of other people’s money.

Why aren’t we having a discussion about the cost of health care reform?

Why aren’t we having a discussion about our current financial obligations?

Why are we not honest enough to admit that sacrifice will be a part of any “solution,” regardless of the source?

If we maintain the status quo, many people will go without health insurance.

If we adopt a plan where more people have health insurance, costs will go up.

Utopia is not an option.

And yet, we can’t have that conversation. We can talk about everything else, but our country seems bent on refusing to behave like the adults I know we can be and face some hard truths:

• Our current financial obligation is $56.4 trillion; that’s money the government (we the people) owe. (source)
• Spreading coverage to more people will, more than likely, lead to cuts in Medicare and Medicaid
• Taxes, at some point, will have to go up to cover the costs
• We can’t continue to raid Social Security to cover additional expenses

I want a real debate. I want a real opportunity to measure both sides, but I doubt the reality will even come close. Who are we as a nation if we can’t talk about the hard truths?

Are you really so comfortable in your recliner that you can’t be bothered to invest the time needed to understand the basics? I’m more than happy to point the finger and politicians. There’s little I like about what our political process has become. However, I can’t abdicate my responsibility as a citizen.

Yes, there’s corporate money, lobbyists, and nefarious networks that protect incumbents. But at some point, you elected those individuals, and only you can remove them. The reaction at the recent town hall meetings, both good and bad, indicates that some people still care enough to voice their opinion. Keep in mind what you’re opinion is worth if you haven’t taken the time to educate yourself about what’s at stake.

If you’re against health care reform, why? Don’t spout the tired line of “government taking over the world.” Instead, ask the question why we haven’t reformed the current programs we have (e.g., Medicaid, Medicare, etc.) to help redress the issue.

If you’re for health care reform, why? Don’t talk to me about a right to health care. Instead, ask the question why are health care spending is almost double the the amount (based on GDP) of other industrialized countries.

Facts give us a framework to help the decision making process. Hate mongering and stirring up fear to achieve a cause should be beneath us, and yet it takes center stage time and again.

“obsessives everywhere in their particular narrow-focused areas of interest (’silos’ is the modern information term), flashing ever more information, ever quicker, in ever shorter bites—the shorter you can make it, the more information there can be—to all the ships at sea.”

Is he right?

Are we focusing on that which interests us the most to the exclusion of things we deem less important? Has the Internet’s ability to drill down to the tiniest of details in specific areas made us oblivious to the larger world around us?

I love information. I love the idea of knowing more tomorrow than I know today. However, I can’t claim to love all information equally. I suspect few people can claim otherwise.

Prior to the Internet and other digital technology, we often had to wade through filters (e.g., newspapers, card catalogs, etc.) to get to the source. In the wading process, we invariably brushed up against “stuff” that didn’t contribute to the main search, but had the potential to enlighten us along the way.

If information becomes silo-based will we lose opportunities to brush up against possibilities? Yes, search engines bring up a dizzying array of possibilities, but how many pages do you generally click through? 2, 3, or 4? How many times have you clicked through them all?

Will we give in to the temptation to retreat to our silos and wallow in the information that brings us the most pleasure, but perhaps blinds us to the everyday?

It’s our choice. We choose what to look at, what to read, and what to pursue. Does your silo still have a working door?

A client provided an interview to a local newspaper a few days ago. This reporter in question happens to be a summer intern for this particular publication, so lack of experience, as much as the industry itself contributed to the problem. Yesterday afternoon, my client called me with a bit of news that the published story reflected year-old data and pulled quotes out of context from a news story six months previous. Unfortunately, this story got picked up by the Associated Press and spread rapidly around the web and even made it into statewide circulation via local news radio.

For this particular client, data validity is the key to his success. So by reporting the wrong numbers, this reporter dealt a blow to my client’s reputation. I spent the afternoon contacting news organizations that had posted the AP story, trying to get the correct information into the stream. What proved most frustrating was a call to the editor of the paper who published the original story.

He initially claimed that if those facts appeared in the story, then my client must of said them. He backed off from his claim once we made it clear that we could provide the original sources and show that the reporter had knowingly (whether through laziness or incompentence) used old data.

The most frustrating aspect was how difficult it was to get my facts into the stream. While some sites offered the option to comment on the story, others required a long search through contact information. Some even required that I register before I could submit a query via email. It’s worth noting that not all of these sites with questionable contact functionality belonged to newspapers. Several perpetrators were TV stations.

So, what’s the catch-22 for newspapers? The option for feedback and providing clarification to a story is almost nonexistent. Yes, blogging isn’t perfect either, but there’s at least the potential for me to interact with the author in real time. Once a story has gone to press, that’s it, because how many of you actually read the “correction” posted in the next edition? They’re usually in a tiny box, somewhere deep inside the paper.

Going forward, I’m recommending to all my clients that they build relationships with organizations that welcome and incorporate feedback. I’m not talking about “fixing” a story, but rather remaining open to revising inaccurate information or adding additional facts to improve the quality of a story.

This one-way conversation is crap. Newspapers made money for a long time by talking at people. Only now are they starting to realize that people will opt out completely if they can’t participate. If they can’t figure out how to make the conversation two-way, without requiring significant hoop jumping, the switch to other resources will be final.

Through the dice toss that is Amazon.com’s “books you might like,” I discovered Born to Run by Chris McDougall. Besides the excellent writing, McDougall tells an amazing story about the Tarahumara, a tribe living in the wilds of Mexico’s Copper Canyon area. While the book weaves together several stories about ultra running and the Tarahumara, the underlying thesis is that humans are born to run, that our bodies can take pleasure from moving fast. Miles weren’t meant to be slogged through, but reveled in.

Prior to reading Born to Run, I’d read a few review that said, “I’ll be surprised if you don’t want to get up and run after reading this book.” Slightly skeptical, because I’ve believed forever that some people are “runners” and the rest of us aren’t. I started to read.

I finished the book this morning, and the reviews were right: I wanted to run to experience the same pleasure McDougall described. This book is a reminder that running needn’t be about namebrand apparel, corporate sponsorships, and fame. Running can be for the sheer pleasure of experiencing a finely built machine doing what it’s designed to do.

How many things in our lives fit this definition? How many things that we did for pleasure have turned into work? Think about how we eat.

We’ve gone from sitting down to a meal, perhaps with the accompanient of conversation, to eating fast food in our cars. We define this practice as “convenient,” but we’ve turned a pleasure into a task to check of the list.

Exercise of any sort is all too often slotted into categories of physicial appearance. We don’t play anymore, we cardio. We don’t laugh from breathlessness, we huff with boredom. What are we becoming?

What if, instead of advocating health care for everyone, we advocated healthy living for everyone? What if instead of passing a cap and trade program, we made it easier for people to do things in their community under their own steam?

While technology in its many shapes and sizes has helped make life amazing in many ways, I think we often overlook simple solutions in favor of the complicated. We need to examine the motivations that our driving our actions with more care. Too much of what we do happens on autopilot. Sometimes that’s all we can manage, but it shouldn’t become the driving force behind our lives.

As I try to change my perspective about running, and even the way I run, I still may wake up some mornings with little desire to step foot outside. However, I do know that running has become less about the mileage, the time, and the scale and more about how I feel while I’m doing it.