Switch is Sticky, Too

I have to give it to Chip and Dan Heath for sticking their necks out with their writing. In Made to Stick, they wrote about the elements of effective communication and thereby set the bar pretty high for anything else they plan to write. Clearly, though, they're very capable of walking their talk, as evidenced by their latest book Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard.

All things considered, Switch really amounts to yet another book on change management. But what it has going for it is that it's easy and engaging reading -- precisely because the Heath brothers put into practice what they wrote about in Made to Stick. Hence, they manage to describe a sensible and memorable framework for change management that may very well be effective.

The central metaphor of Switch is that any change effort can be likened to riding an elephant and directing it to a destination: it isn't easy. Further, inasmuch as there's a rational component to undertaking any change (the driver), emotions matter just as much if not more (the elephant), as does the underlying context or situation (the path). Thus the Heath brothers' formula for change management is simple: Direct the rider. Motivate the elephant. Shape the path.

Now if that isn't a sticky message, I don't know what is.

Of course, it's only a useful takeaway from the book if you've actually read it; otherwise you may get the impression that the book is simplistic and trite (it's not). Switch is actually worthwhile reading precisely because it provokes careful thinking about the difficulties of change management. If you've ever wondered why some of the best laid plans to get people or organizations to change fail so miserably, this is the book for you.

That said, Switch has one flaw its authors readily acknowledge: while it is useful to deconstruct change into its rational, emotional, and contextual components, these are often intertwined and occasionally indistinguishable. In the context of the book, this is most evident in the case studies presented to illustrate how to put the Switch principles into action, where the discerning reader will readily note that matters pertaining to the rider may very well have more to do with the elephant or the path (the reverse being true as well). However, far from an indictment of the Heaths' ideas, I say this just goes to show that reality is often messier than theory can allow for.

As with Made to Stick, Chip and Dan Heath have done us a great service by putting their ideas together in Switch. So remember:

Direct the Rider.

Motivate the Elephant.

Shape the Path.

And Switch.

'Wichcraft

Is it just me, or is it becoming harder and harder to find a good sandwich these days?

I'm not referring to sandwiches that taste good. Surely there are any number of places where you can find a sandwich that simply tastes sublime.

No: what I'm referring to are sandwiches that can actually be eaten well.

It seems to me that sandwich joints and delis are more and more concerned with putting together sandwiches without thinking about how their customers are supposed to eat them. Like the burger whose patty is so big you'd need flexible mandibles to make the first bite. Or the panini whose ingredients gradually spill out as you eat because it's packed with all manner of good stuff. Or the sandwich that's just so damn messy to eat that when whatever condiment its dressed with drips on you, you create an even bigger mess cleaning it up since you're hands are just as soiled.

You know what I mean.

What strikes me as funny about this is that the regime of uneatable (but not inedible) sandwiches is taking place at a time when, in theory, sandwich-making can be approached with cookie-cutter ease. On the one hand, the equipment and ingredients to make sandwiches have never before been available on such a large scale. On the other, restaurants that offer sandwiches as their main fare thrive by streamlining processes for putting sandwiches together en masse, so you'd think they'd have an incentive to at least get it right. Yet they don't. Frequently.

I submit the problem is misplaced priorities. Compared to full-blown meals, sandwiches are "fast food"; and the trouble is precisely that a premium is placed more on the "fast" and less on the "food". And why not? The underlying assumption is that the ingredients are fresh and the overall recipe will taste good; thus all that's left is a race to put it all together and get the sandwich into the diner's hands. Yet nary a thought is given to how that person is supposed to eat it. Thus, the cycle of overlarge, mightily sloppy and downright messy sandwiches claims another victim.

Which is a pity. Dining is an experience -- whether it's a long drawn-out dinner or a quick bite in between meetings -- whose enjoyment is as much about the aromas and flavors and presentation of the dish as it is affected by whether one had an easy enough time eating it. Yes, I know: when all is said and done nothing stops you from taking out a plate and utensils. But as far as I'm concerned, something in my head switches off at the thought of having to eat a hamburger sandwich on a plate with a fork and knife, regardless of whether the beef came from some place in Japan where the cows drink beer.

You don't need to be an architect to design a good sandwich (though it stands to reason that it would help). It just takes some common sense, or at least enough to evaluate whether the sandwich one serves can be eaten easily and whether or not it will make a mess.

Coupled with a great recipe, that would be real magic.

Ready for the Next Eruption!

To ease the suffering of passengers stranded across Europe by the eruption of Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull volcano, the good folks at the Lonely Planet decided to offer some of the iPhone editions for their European city guidebooks free for a limited time. A savvy if appreciated display of enlightened self-interest on their part, if I do say so myself.

Of course, I downloaded them all. Even if I'm nowhere near Europe right now. Because I'm a sucker for free stuff.

So the next time you're looking to travel to Europe but worried about what to do if another volcanic eruption occurs, keep me in mind!

In the meantime, I've got to find a way to explain to the wife that just because these things are on my phone doesn't mean I've made travel plans in the near future that she doesn't know about...

WWGD?

It's an interesting exercise: can you write a book about Google without actually writing about Google? Jeff Jarvis has demonstrated that this may very well be possible with his finely authored book What Would Google Do (WWGD)?

Notwithstanding the title, WWGD? isn't an in-depth look at the corporate and business strategy emanating from Mountain View. Neither is it a compendium of interviews with the key personalities at the helm of Google, nor is it a behind-the-scenes look at what goes on inside the famed Googleplex.

Instead, Jarvis' book is an examination of all that Google implies for businesses and society. Hence, it attempts to offer perspective on what technologies in the age of Google have helped make possible -- the democratization of information, the ease with which search can be conducted, and the shift of control from companies and brands to consumers an end-users. In this sense, "Google" becomes shorthand for much of what has become recognized as Web 2.0; yet it is a well-justified choice given that few other companies have shaped the way we approach the Internet like Google has.

At the same time, the book inevitably touches on some core components of Google's philosophy and corporate culture known to the public: its penchant for keeping products in beta, its policy of allowing employees to devote twenty percent of their time to personal projects, and (of course) its audacious commitment not to be evil. In so doing, Jarvis cogently makes the case that better approaches to how things are usually done can very well begin by asking a very simple question: "What would Google do?"

The book is arguably split evenly along both lines. It begins with a discussion on how the world has changed in the Google age (that waxes philosophical at times) and ends with an application of Jarvis' core question to a variety of settings/industries/business models. Overall, WWGD? is both timely and important, equally appropriate reading for today's netizen technophiles as it is suited to corporate retreats (highly recommended). More fundamentally, it offers a very compelling framework and worldview to work with. Who would have thought that a company that set out to organize the world's information would also end up providing us with myriad ways to do things differently and better?

What would Google do, indeed.

Spirit Tracks

There's a part of me that just wanted to hate The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks.

Having been a fan of both Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass, there was a voice in the back of my head saying it was time to give this iteration of the series a rest. The premise behind the first two games that set the stage for seafaring made a lot of sense; yet taking that a step further and adopting trains as the motif for this installment seemed a stretch. Not that I wouldn't play it -- hey, this is Zelda! -- but I suppose I was looking for something to dislike about Spirit Tracks from the start.

It never came, and I'm glad for it. Sure, there are parts I didn't much care for and other parts that could stand improvement. But overall, Spirit Tracks lives up to the Zelda tradition, and by the end I was already quite content to let loose on the whistle in Link's personal locomotive.

For the most part, it's the typical Zelda game: a kingdom in danger, the princess kidnapped, the legendary hero come to save the day. As expected, though, all these elements are cast in a new light: the kingdom is threatened by the Dark Lord Malladus, who had formerly been imprisoned by means of the magical Spirit Tracks (railways) that run across the land; minions of Malladus have kidnapped the princess' body in order to resurrect the Dark Lord; the princess' spirit seeks the help of the legendary hero, who in this case also happens to be a train engineer.

Only in the context of Zelda could anything like that make the least modicum of sense -- and actually work.

There are two things I appreciated a lot in Spirit Tracks. First is the fact that Zelda does accompany Link through most of the journey (hint: she's in the boxart; and no, that's not really a spoiler). Granted, you only get to use her as a playable character in a certain area on the map, and the control scheme could use much improvement, but solving puzzles designed for both Link and Zelda each time adds a lot of fun to the gameplay -- especially in that final Boss battle (oh yeah).

Second, typical for the series, some of the Boss battles in Spirit Tracks are quite inspired and downright impressive for the Nintendo DS. Clearly, though, these came at the cost of scaling down the difficulty in order to allow players to figure out exactly what to do. Given that the game is meant to for a handheld platform and targeted (presumably) to a much younger demographic, it's an imperfect if acceptable trade-off mitigated by the Eureka moment when one figures it all out (thereafter going along for the ride).

Ultimately, I must say that the small part of me that wanted to hate Spirit Tracks was won over, though I'm still not overly thrilled with the railway motif. Having said that, I have this strange feeling I'll miss letting loose on the train whistle soon enough in spite of myself. In fact, I think I already do.

The Philippine Bill of Rights [Presentation Thursdays]

In view of the upcoming elections, I suppose this is a timely post: here're some old lecture slides on the Philippine Bill of Rights enshrined in the 1987 Philippine Constitution (Article III).

Since this would be a subject discussed over several class sessions, it was necessary to divide the content into more manageable chunks. Thus, I decided it would make sense to devote one presentation to civil rights exclusively:

View this presentation on Slideshare.

Meanwhile, I grouped legal and political rights together for another presentation (I admit, the categories are somewhat porous):

View this presentation on slideshare.

Obviously, this not-so-arbitrary division of the Bill of Rights means that Article III wasn't presented "as-is". At the time, I thought this would make for a better way to present the subject; yet having used these slides several times during my stint as a teacher, I'm not convinced this was an effective approach. Then again, the slides did serve the purpose of prompting students to ask questions about their rights, so I suppose my little experiment was a wash.

[About Presentation Thursdays: Every now and then, on a Thursday, I post a presentation from my archives and include some accompanying commentary not just about the content but also my thoughts on designing it. The presentations can also be viewed and downloaded from my Slideshare page]

Ignore Everybody

It's only fairly recently that I caught on to Hugh MacLeod and Gapingvoid (because, apparently, I live under a rock). In fact, what got me curious was seeing his contribution to What Matters Now, which led me to his site and, thereafter, his book Ignore Everybody and 39 Other Keys to Creativity.

Had I known that his one-pager in What Matters Now (which, incidentally, also appears in Seth Godin's Linchpin) was a succinct summary of Ignore Everybody, I may not have bought the book. It even turns out there's an earlier manifesto covering the same ground available on Change This. Heck, the blog post that spawned Ignore Everybody is itself openly available on Gapingvoid.

But had I known any of that, and stupidly decided not to get my own copy of Ignore Everybody, then I would have missed out on one of the most important books I've ever been privileged to read.

I suspect that process of going through these earlier drafts in preparing Ignore Everybody helped crystallize MacLeod's thoughts about creativity, personal motivation and leadership that are essential to any professional today worthy of that name. The observations MacLeod makes are acute, sometimes cynical, oftentimes humorous but inspired (and inspiring), overall. I dare say, correct, too. For me, it was a wake up call for the things I have been doing right about my work and life, as well as many things I can be doing better. That, I think, is why this book is very relevant.

Sure, I think it a pity that MacLeod offers some commentary on socializing, sex and dating via several of the cartoons throughout the book. While these (strangely enough) make sense, I'd argue that the book would have been better without them. But what do you expect from a guy who writes a book called Ignore Everybody? And can anyone really respect a guy who doesn't follow his own advice?

Didn't think so.

Decide

Each time you get out of bed in the morning, there's a choice to make.

You can opt to just phone it in.

Go through the motions.

Duck for cover.

Avoid responsibility and the risk of falling flat on your face.

Count the hours to the weekend and hope that it will all be over soon.

Or...

You can hit the ground running.

Strive to be remarkable.

Find a cause, stick your neck out and make a difference.

Challenge yourself and dare to exceed all expectations.

Find dignity and meaning in what you do, and be uncompromising in your desire to give it your best.

It's one or the other. It's either-or. Every day you're confronted with this decision.

But really, the choice is easy.

So choose.

Something is Technically Wrong [The Internet is Down]

Once again, something I came across on Twitter.

Pretty cute. Maybe even cute enough to make me forget that something shouldn't be wrong in the first place -- which, I suppose, is the point.

Linchpin

There's not much more to say about Seth Godin's latest book that hasn't already been said. Because it's awesome.

Just go. Find a copy. Read it. Pass it along. Fight your Lizard Brain and embrace the Resistance.

It may just change your life...and help you become a Linchpin.