The Project Shrink

I try to avoid giving advice in blog posts. Before you know it people start taking you serious. And we already have enough of that. People taking themselves very seriously.

I am not good in attempting this. I give way too much advice in what I write online. So. I dress it up in … well … my own voice. This reduces the number of people that read the text. Limiting the people that read the advice. Yes. Really.

I try to have consideration for the poor PMs that go online for relaxation. Suppose you run a project. It's doing ok. Not great. Ok. In the bathroom you read your favorite blogs on your fancy mobile device.  You read something about planning. That's timely. You have some planning to do. Let's see what advice is given.

"You need to use tool X." Hmmm. You are stuck with tool Y created in The Dark Ages.
"You need to involve every stakeholder." Hmmmm. Most of them are still on holiday.
"You need to use this new  spirally incrementally strategy." Shoot. You are only allowed to use this linear thing.
"You need to have Planning hair. All shiny." You're bold.

Stress hits you. Hard. You totally freak out. And you start to look for advice on "stress".

"Be yourself." Uhm. Who else!
"Take a break." Oh crap. Give me one!

You stay longer in the bathroom than normal. Adding to the problem. The problem you didn't have before the "advice".

So. I dress it up. The advice.

Wrap it in the culture of Project Shrink. Shrinkonian culture, if you wish. Using long posts that go on for ages without seeming to reach to a conclusion. Using strange words for things we already have words for.

Oh. Yes people. I am creating "a context".

You know when people answer a question with "it depends"?

"Is this the way to San Jose?" "It depends."
"Are you the girl from Ipanema?" "It depends."
"Is this my life?" "It depends."

This "depends" is "context".

Circumstances. All "advice" is given in a certain "context". Jeez. I really have to ease down with the quotes.

So.

If you read something that resembles "advice" while you are in Shrinkonia (that's here), you know I mean well. You know you don't have to do anything. It's just a friendly suggestion. Without any guarantee of course.

With "advice" people assume "guarantee".  If life doesn't give you any guarantees, who am I to start giving you any?

A while ago, someone asked me for advice on starting a successful blog. I said: "Give great advice." "Will I make any money with that?" "Of course! For sure!"

You see. Not helpful.

If you make this Context Wrapped In A Culture as weird as possible … hum …. expressive as possible, those who make it through the jungle of obscurity, start appreciating your advice with all it's implicit assumptions.

You see. If you understand this last sentence, you have reached the ultimate understanding of the advice in this post.

If you have no idea what the heck I just said, I would just say: "World peace." (which of course is an inside Shrinkonian joke)

I should try harder to avoid giving advice in blog posts. Don't you think?

Bas de Baar is a writer who draws about people in transition. He loves to make visual maps and travel guides for the collaborators of our brave new world.

Dave suggested we should go to the SXSW festival next year. We should do a presentation. About Project Management. Dave says they can use some good presentations about Project Management.

I write under the moniker The Project Shrink. Dave uses DrunkenPM. And we will discuss if this is a good idea. Now is a good time to follow this link and vote for our talk. I will never ask anything of you again. Promised.

SXSW if for cool people. It's in Austin. In Texas. The only things I know about Texas is from watching reruns of the TV hit series Dallas.  I should probably buy a hat for the festival. I think Dave already has one.

Wearing a big cowboy hat would certainly tell a lot about me. Probably it's the first clue for people that I'm not from Texas. And secondly, that I am a Big Stereotyper. Is that a word anyway?

That is basically what Dave and I will be telling people. What will people think if you wear a big hat, and is it good for your career?

You know that the "hat" isn't actually "a hat", do you? It's a metaphor. Right?

Project Managers have their language and their charts as hats. Project Managers have so many ways of saying "no". "Out of scope", "Works as designed", "Request for change", "Not in spec". It's polite. It sounds official and professional.

But, it's still simply "no".

If you hear somebody say "no" in such a difficult way, it's a Project Manager.

I am told that at SXSW (please vote for our talk!) all kinds of weird people will pop up. So. In the end, me walking around looking like J.R. with this awesome hat, might be a good idea. For sure that more people will wear one. Or like one.

Now, the hat becomes a beacon for Hat Aficionados. If you see someone with a hat, you nod politely. He's one of us. It's a secret handshake. Without the secret.

Or. I can say "I never roll on Shabas". If you chuckle and answer with "The Dude Abides" or "New shit has come to light" we establish that we both know the movie The Big Lebowksi. Which actually means we like the same kind of humor. Which means we have something in common.

This would be like a secret handshake. And if you use an obscure movie, with the secret. Not if you yell "I'm on the king of the world". Everybody has seen the ugliness called "Titanic".

In project teams you can play with this mechanism. To make people feel at home. Or to keep people out of your way. This is what we want to discuss with you. Dave and me. Or I.

I write under the moniker The Project Shrink. Dave uses DrunkenPM. Using names like that is a big hat. I mean A BIG FREAKIN' HAT! Metaphorically speaking.

It's part of personal branding to select the right hat for your party. Will your party totally "get it"?

"Wow. A Project Shrink? Yeah man, we should totally focus on the sanity of our projects. Let's listen to what this dude has to say."

Or is it just a big hat? A gimmick.

"Hehehe. Dudes have funny names. Hehehehe."

If you want to know, you have to vote for us. Vote for our talk. Before the end of this week.

And help me to shop for a hat. A big hat.

Awesome.

Bas de Baar is a writer who draws about people in transition. He loves to make visual maps and travel guides for the collaborators of our brave new world.

Many years ago I was asked during a sales presentation what I thought was the most essential ingredient for a successful project. My answer was “mutual trust”. People in the room were staring at me like I was some kind of New Age Treehugger.

I switched very fast to the normal "plan-and-control" crap to get happy faces again.

Sometimes I wished I would have chosen a different aspect of Project Management. Something like "How to write a plan?" or "How to fill the empty spaces in this checklist?" Talking about culture, visualization, metaphors and social interactions can result in blank stares of your conversation partner.

"They are drawing a TENT on a whiteboard?!!! Why not elves?"
"Wow! Do you know how to draw an elf? Awesome!"

So. Sometimes I backtrack. Finding myself mumbling the words people expect to hear.

"Ze Plan. Boss. Ze Plan!"

It's like in the movie "Miss Congeniality" where Sandra Bullock appears in a beauty pageant. She has to answer the almighty Miss-question "what do yo wish for?". Sandra starts a passionate argument for stronger gun control. She gets blank stares from the audience. The people expect to hear something else from a beauty queen. "World peace!" is what she answers next. The crowd goes wild!

It's not that we change our opinion all of a sudden. It's more the "are you freaking nuts!?" look that makes us yell "World peace!"

Havi Brooks, biggified teacher of stuff, organizes week-long "workshops" during which people can work on their thing. It's actually kind of difficult to explain when you aren't a regular reader of her blog. One explanation:

“So there’s this woman? I kind of sort of know her from online. No, not like that. She has a duck! Anyway, she runs a playground. Yes. It’s like preschool, but for grownups."

A lot of the participants of these Rallies (the actual name of the event) come up with cover stories to tell friends and family where they are going. As one person describes in the comments  what happens when she tries to explain what it is really all about:

"Then I go into DEFCON 4 and that’s when I should just hit “Self Destruct” and shush, but NO, I try to land the bird, like I got any shot in hell of making that landing strip. There’s just awkward phrasing and back tracking and then everyone is left feeling uncomfortable, as though you just watched Caligula with your parents. It’s like a Piñata of Social Anxiety. But with no candy."

So. This phenomenon is "a Piñata of Social Anxiety". The solution is "world peace".

I think the real trick is to take things one step at a time.

"You know, "talking with your stakeholders", it's like Project Communications, but without the Excel sheet with just the names in it."

Or.

"You know all these gadgets you have to impress people? The big SUV you use to drive 10km to work? How 87% of the duration of a meeting you are having a monologue?"

"No. Huh?"

"World peace!"

Bas de Baar is a writer who draws about people in transition. He loves to make visual maps and travel guides for the collaborators of our brave new world.

I hate the phrase "being on the same page". Nothing wrong with the sentence itself. It's me. My associations with it. I actually hear: "you need to agree with my point of view".

Same thing with "thinking out of the box". The people who use it, wouldn't even recognize a box when  it was dressed up as a parrot and danced in front of them. Or, as elegantly described by Penelope Trunk:

"The reason telling someone to “think out of the box” is so stupid is because it really means “I hate all your ideas” or “I can’t think out of the box myself, so I need you to.” In any case, it’s lame to say."

This is a problem as two of the main topics about project management for me are "being on the same page" and "thinking out of the box". Irony. I know.

So I need other phrases that describe what I mean, without having the creepy associations. Clean, uncontaminated words that aren't polluted yet by people that aren't as sensitive to words as I am.

"Hanging around the same water cooler".

This could do the trick. Essential to projects is that everyone has the same idea about what "done" looks like. Or which approach is being taken. A conversation about that could go like:

"Did you read me memo about the vision I have for this company?"
"Yeah man. We hang around the same water cooler on this topic."

Or. If you smoke cigarettes. "We hang around the same smoking area!"

The essence is that it is something you would go to yourself. Without an outside push. Something that isn't forced upon you. So the smoking area is probably not for everyone. And you might stay away from places you might be too keen on going. Like a bar.

Anyway. It is the opposite of being chained to the fence of a nuclear waste disposal facility.

Statements like "We have a culture dedicated to 100% guaranteed deliveries being resilient towards disturbances caused by external conditions." and "I add value to my customers so they can do the best work they ever did, even without them being good at what it is they do.” are my personal nuclear waste disposal facilities.

Although. I actually wrote a 5 nanosecond pitch for myself: "As The Project Shrink I help people find ways to enjoy the diversity of human interaction in their projects and organizations so that they can get out of their own way and achieve their goals." I need to say it out loud with an Italian accent.  See. Making progress.

So. Places you actually want to go to.

Do you remember the plastic palm tree?

"… you bring a huge palm tree to put on your desk. Nothing brightens up a place like a little bit of tropical green. … People will gather under the palm tree. Give you compliments. Provide you with tips on how the harvest those coconuts. Someone will bring a hammock. It will become a hangout and topic of conversation."

Now, who wouldn't be happy to sit under a palm tree? Even if it is made of plastic and smells like, well, plastic.

A short YouTube search actually provided me with the best phrase ever. It's the title of a Bobby Boogaloo song. "Kicking it back under the coconut tree."

"Did you read my 300 page document that described every freaking little detail about how I think we should iritate the crap out of each other the next couple of months?"
"Yeah man. We are kicking it back under the same coconut tree!"

Totally different ring to it.

And actually having the tree around your office would make it even more awesome. Until, of course, some nitwits come around and steal your phrase and use it for some of their meetings of doom.

"Please come around and kick it back under our 36 hour coconut tree. From hell."

But for them nitwits you should have an empty box dressed up like a parrot on your desk. Point to the box and ask "Do you know what that is?"

If they don't recognize it is a box, you know enough.

Bas de Baar is a writer who draws about people in transition. He loves to make visual maps and travel guides for the collaborators of our brave new world.

I think a project can have a "red convertible" moment. It's that breakdown, or more that revelation, in which you remember why you were doing something in the first place.

Lets say your company needs a new service for a new market. People are all excited. A project is launched to make it happen. The excitement carries the team to great heights. It's a little chaotic, but it appears progress is being made.

We don't like chaos. We need structure. So along the ride discussions emerge on how to structure this darn thing. Procedures are created. Some people take Prince 2 classes. Templates are created. And methodological debates are replacing discussions about content. The "abstract how" is overtaking the "specific why".

Before you know it, project life consists of rituals around time sheets and progress reports, approval procedures and the need for more certified team members. If a project runs long enough and isolated enough, the mechanism is overtaking the context. When you ask a team what they think is your risk, and they reply back with 4 templates for risk assessment. That's loosing context over mechanism.

Then a transistion occurs. Something triggers the revelation that this can go on for ever without result. And time is short.

The project team has to "go back" to the start of the project to remember the original context, the why are we doing what we are doing, and integrate that somehow in there current mechanistic approach in the project.

This transition is the "red convertible" moment. After years and years of perfecting the process of earning money and status, middle aged men just realized their childhood dreams and intentions. The proverbial "red convertible".

This is basically the idea behind Johnston’s creative cycle.

This cycle "… divides the creative process into stages through which form emerges and differentiates from its creative context. This creative process applies equally well to an individual life, a relationship, a creative project, and global culture. … Central to his model is the notion that context is necessarily forgotten in order for form to develop. The task of the first half of the creative cycle is differentiating context and form. The task of the second half is integrating them into a creative whole."

This is a model of formative patterning. How patterns in human systems are developed. 

I recognize this cycle in the creation of knowledge.

I originally approached projects from within the context of newspapers, a very people driven industry. All kinds of disciplines getting together and just "make things happen". The more I started studying projects, the more abstract I got. A more mechanistic view. After realizing that a mechanistic view is not the answer, I slowly am integrating emotions and identity back into the mix. The context I originally new by heart, but lost during the process of "making sense".

The struggle to get in touch again, the start of the transformation, is the "red convertible". You know that something is missing. You realize you said goodbye to past patterns. But you haven't made the transition yet.

This is when you see consultants entering the building to put new procedures on top of old procedures. Replacing old certifications with new certifications.

If you didn't have any clue what you were doing before, this is the proper solution.

If you were good at your job, it just isn't showing up lately, you might be in transition. You might be shifting from "differentiation" to "integration" in your creative cycle.

When you are talking more about the adoption of new groundbreaking approaches than how great this thing is when it is finished, you know you are heading for transition.

Do you recognize this "red convertible"?
 

Bas de Baar is a writer who draws about people in transition. He loves to make visual maps and travel guides for the collaborators of our brave new world.