From the archive: How to be a Brain in a Brainstorm
[The third in my series of posts that have disappeared with Interesource, but which I would like to keep available. This one was a look at how to be useful and polite in a brainstorm. It was originally published on 2nd April 2007.]
We often run brainstorms for clients here at Interesource. We have a group of experts, who we refer to as ‘brains’, that we call on to help us with these. They’re all expert in some area of the Internet and are all early adopters of the latest and shiniest stuff. You won’t need to explain to them what Twitter is or mashups are, or how Facebook is different from MySpace for example.
Of course this has its downside too: they’re all remarkably opinionated. Now, of course we love opinions because we’ve all got them and exposure to other opinions is the best way to challenge your preconceptions. That’s why clients pay for brainstorms, after all. The brains also tend to be too radical for most practical purposes, but that again is a benefit because ideas can always be toned down for the market they’re aimed at.
We usually mix in a few Interesource employees as ‘brains’ too. After all, we have experts a plenty on the staff. Recently I’ve been called on for two brainstorms. Here are my observations on what it takes to be useful in one.
You have to remember that you’re in the brainstorm for your opinions and expertise, so it’s OK to say things that are controversial and, in all likelihood, not fully formed or even at all practical.
The flip-side of this is that you’re not there to force your opinions or priorities on other people. You’ve been asked to tell people what you think, not suppress what other people think. You have to trust the people running the brainstorm to harvest the ideas and use the best ones. Just because you think it’s an awesome idea doesn’t mean that everyone else does. People who know me will recognise that this is the bit I really struggle with. Hopefully I’m getting better at it.
The two brainstorms I’ve been in recently have both been very positive and useful, but in both there was some behaviour that I felt was unhelpful. The first instance was one of the attendees telling the group ‘you haven’t come up with anything new’. Let’s deconstruct that.
First: you don’t *have* to come up with anything new in a brainstorm. They can be super-efficent ways of transferring knowledge, and that’s a great outcome. Second: a brainstorm group should behave as a team, not a series of individuals in competition with each other. If the brainstorm hasn’t produced anything new and it should have then the whole team has failed. It’s no good accusing the rest of the group of failure and trying to stand outside the failure.
This notion of it being teamwork is why brainstorms often start with trust games. Tim often runs brainstorms here and he usually makes people reveal an embarrassing hobby or fact about themselves to break the ice. This is great because it helps people to relax, lets everyone get some sense of the people they’re in a room with. After all, they may never have met several of the participants before.
I usually feel quite a lot of pressure before a brainstorm because I feel that there’s an expectation that I will say something brilliant or original and that’s difficult to do. You’re in a room with some very bright people and you don’t want to look stupid in front of them. But you have to remember that this is why there is no bad idea in a brainstorm - just say what you think.
You also have to submit to the moderator’s discipline. A good moderator will understand the client’s brief very well and will steer you away from topic areas that are not relevant. It’s important not to be offended by this; it doesn’t mean that the idea is bad, just that it’s better to move on to talk about something else. And for heaven’s sake, don’t keep trying to get your big idea back into the conversation if it’s moved on from there.
Running a good brainstorm is a tricky blend of finding people with egos and confidence who don’t mind shutting up when they’re told or listening to things they fundamentally disagree with without attacking it.
From the archive: The software industry is quite crap too
[The second in my series of posts that have disappeared with Interesource, but which I would like to keep available. This one was a follow up to my post Don't ignore the crapness factor (which I've also republished here). It was originally published on 16th October 2006 and reflects the fact that at that time I was still stuck in Windows at work.]
A couple of days ago I blogged about how Amazon’s and other recommendation engines do a poor job. Recommendation was the cornerstone of Tim Malbon’s argument [link no longer available] that there will soon be so much data about our tastes publicly available that we will only ever recieve customised views of sites, and that this will ultimately result in less choice: stuff that the recommendation engine doesn’t think we’re interested in won’t even appear. In that post, I argued that just because we buy a book, it doesn’t necessarily mean that we want to buy anything else like it.
Today, I want to consider some of the factors in the software industry that will prevent recommendation engines from taking over our lives, even if the basic problems I outlined last time could be solved.
It occured to me recently that Web 2.0 services are the first new utility of the post-privatisation world. Most of the other services we rely on were installed, and are now regulated by, the government (I’m writing this from a UK prespective, so my terminology may not be 100% compatible). Trains, phones, roads, electicity, gas and the rest: they were all previously state monopolies and are now privatised with some form of regulator making sure that there is adequate competition and that consumers don’t get ripped off. Crucially, they also make sure that profits are ploughed back in so that infrastructure improves over time. Well, that’s the theory at least.
In the new web economy though, this isn’t the case: services like Technorati, Digg, Del.icio.us, Flickr and the rest are there with no thanks to governments. The so-called ‘blogosphere’ relies heavily on these and other services, but they are entirely unregulated. The W3C has proved itself to be so sluggish that cutting edge services cannot be expected to wait for them. Rather, someone proposes a new XML format or XML-RPC interface and it either survives or it doesn’t. RSS is a perfect example of this. Nobody is going to argue that RSS is a bullet-proof specification, nor is anyone going to suggest that it’s semantically particularly elegant. From the technology purists’ point of view, ATOM is far superior.
But here’s the thing: RSS is very very simple to create, whereas ATOM insists on using XML namespaces well and on mandatory elements and so forth. When I’m asked to describe what ATOM is, I’m left with ‘well, it’s like RSS only a bit more strict’. People don’t get enough extra for doing things ‘properly’, so they just stick with the technology that is widely adopted and good enough.
Even though RSS is imperfect, people have used it to do loads of things that would previously not have made any sense. I have an RSS feed of Subversion checkins to the projects I’m responsible for so that I can see what other people are doing right in my news aggregator. I probably use Omea Reader more than Outlook these days. There are entire businesses, like Feedburner, that are built on RSS.
For several years, RSS was the province of Blogging and XML geeks, was constantly changing, and competing extensions kept appearing and then being either swallowed or adopted very rapidly. If there is to be a world recommendation system, it will go through a much more painful process because it’s a lot more complicated than RSS. Not the least of the problems is that there isn’t a single way of identifying objects - even Amazon don’t know that two books published in two territories are the same text in different covers. You may love avocados but hate avocado bathroom suites. Good luck with the recommendation engines.
Now, imagine a world like Tim does. This is a world where everyone has agreed to work together, but that agreement has led to an undesirable restriction of choice and has been hijacked by Google, Yahoo, Microsoft and whoever else has bet on the right technology. But wait. Are Google, Yahoo and Microsoft ever going to cooperate on something like this? Can you ever see Microsoft ditching Passport Windows Live ID in favour of integrating with Yahoo’s ID system, or Google’s? No chance.
Will Hotmail Windows Live Mail, Yahoo Mail and Gmail ever be best buddies? I don’t think so.
Look at the reaction to Microsoft’s infamous Hailstorm product. I think there genuinely were people at Microsoft who thought people would enthusiastically embrace the idea of giving their entire online profile to the biggest software company in the world. When ‘don’t be evil’ Google announced something similar, even they were roundly slated.
The bottom line is that it is not in software companies’ interests to collaborate at the cutting edge. It takes years and years for them to work together on a technology (think Microsoft and Sun on Java, Microsoft and IBM on Web Services), by which time the cutting edge is elsewhere. It’s just that the battle front has moved on.
There’s simply no motivation for Google, Yahoo and Microsoft to create some über recommendation engine together. Still less for Amazon: it’s their most valuable data after all. As soon as the market for recommendation engines has settled down, the battle will move elsewhere and there will be incompatible fronobricator engines or whatever.
As far as I can see, there will always be competing pseudo-standards at the cutting edge. Collaboration on the scale Tim imagines is about as likely as the United Nations becoming the world government.
From the archive: Don’t ignore the crapness factor
[There are some blog items that I wrote in my spare time but published on the Interesource blog before it disappeared down the plug hole. I refer to these sometimes in conversation and in documents, but they are now no longer available on the web, so I'm re-publishing them here, thanks to Google's cache, so that they have a permalink that I can use to reference them. The first is about recommendation engines and was originally published on 11th October 2006.]
Norwich City fan, book afficionado, and all-round nice guy Shane Richmond has been blogging about the future of newspapers and how they might adapt to the ‘next web’. Tim Malbon responded in his blog [link no longer available] with an even more extreme vision of a world in which there’s so much data available about our preferences that we will end up with no real choices of our own, only those deemed to be of interest to us by Google or whoever. I think this latter vision is completely wrong.
Shane’s posts are well argued, as always, and are informed by his experience as the News Editor of the Telegraph.co.uk. Tim’s is compelling, but, I think, fundamentally flawed. Here’s the first part of why I think that: things are generally quite crap.
There are two oft-quoted exemplars of relevance on the Internet today: Google AdSense and Amazon. I have to say that I remain unimpressed with both of these, even though they represent the best there is at the moment. (I should say that my musical taste precludes me from using either last.fm or Pandora, so I can’t judge these.)
Let’s take Amazon. I buy broadly three kinds of books. First, books that I want to read myself for pleasure. These are generally so-called ‘literary’ novels. Then, I buy computer books for work. Finally, I buy presents for other people, things I would never buy for myself. Amazon doesn’t know why I’m buying these things, and unless I tell it, which I can’t really be bothered to do, it doesn’t know what I thought of them. Maybe there are people whoi obsessively keep their Amazon perferences up to date, but I have other things to do that are more exciting.
I recently bought and read all of the Booker Prize shortlisted books, most of them from Amazon. Once I’d bought them my recommendations were updated - to include the Booker shortlisted books that I hadn’t bought, plus one book from each author if they had a back catalogue (there was one first novel on the list this year). Clever, you’re thinking? Not so clever, if you ask me. This is the most basic possible recommendation. It’s a bit like buying the number one single and then being asked ‘have you thought about buying the rest of the top ten?’
In fact, the only time Amazon recommendations are useful to me is when I buy books so obscure that only a few other people have ever bought them there. Then, they very often uncover some completely unexpected ‘related’ books, related for no other reason that some other Amazon user has an eclectic taste that is similar to mine. This is the ‘long tail’, which is why Amazon is succesful, or at least why it is useful to me (other than the obvious pricing reasons).
The Guardian Review on saturday and the Observer Review on sunday are miles better at identifying books I may be interested in than Amazon are. Why? Because there’s an editorial policy (in the case of the Observer, a former editor at Faber, Robert McCrum) in place and it is broadly in line with my tastes. At Amazon there’s no editorial policy, just a load of people buying stuff and then some assumptions about their relatedness. Plus, Amazon are trying to sell me stuff, so I can’t trust their editorial judgement anyway. Newspapers, at the moment, can be trusted to slate stuff they think is rubbish.
One final Amazon example. I once bought Abbado’s most recent recording of Mahler’s 7th Symphony and Don Box’s Essential .NET, Volume 1. I can’t think of a single link between those two items, other than that I happened to buy them at the same time. But guess what showed up as a related item to the Mahler Symphony? Even someone who had little or no knowledge of classical music or computing can see that there’s no relationship between these things.
All these things are instances of the crapness I’m talking about.
I can’t see how this problem can ever be solved, unless computers have a way of knowing why I buy things and not just what I buy. Shane’s argument (as does Tim’s perhaps to an even greater extent) rests on someone solving this fundamental problem.
Next time I’ll look at human factors in the software business that may retard our march towards an automated society.
