It is common knowledge and understanding that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Yet, there is a space for generally good enough approaches, which cover a broad range of situations. As an analogy I want to present the humble Multitool.
Its non-specificity is its defining feature, together with transportability and accessibility. You can’t become skilled in the use of a multitool, but in the hand of a skilled practitioner, it has its place. But the most interesting thing about a multitool (which is also the reason, I have one around) is, that it gives one access to a problem. If I want to fix something, I can remove the screws, ply away something, etc.
In this piece I want to describe parts of the mental multitool I employ to gain access to the deeper layers of everyday concepts.
What problem are we trying to solve?
This question is the first component of the Mental Multitool. It is the cross screwdriver, opening 80% of all appliances in your daily life.
This is a more specific and accessible variation of a child’s “Why?”. It leads to interesting questions, opening up the underlying structure of the problem. Similar to opening an appliance which “does not work” (e.g. the button press does not lead to a desired state) and revealing the inner structure, this question opens the first layer of a situation I want to grasp.
In my daily work as a manager of product engineering teams, I spend most of my time in conversations. And I will jokingly describe my job as just asking the question: “What problem are we trying to solve here?” The joke is that asking the question is hilariously simple. But time and again I learned that anything worthwhile is unbelievably simple at its core.
What does this question accomplish? If we actively engage with the question, it forces us to take a step back. We can consider the context and discover new criteria under which to assess our proposed solutions.
Most importantly it makes us verbalize our implicit understanding, bringing the unconscious assumptions up to the conscious domain. Once the problem statement is out there in spoken (or even better: written) form, the group reached a higher degree of synchronization. It reveals more generally desirable outcomes and allows us to consider more general approaches.
I find this technique so effective that I call it a superpower. I am using it all the time. Professionally and personally.
Vulnerability
All of us have an image of ourselves we want to project out to some degree. We want to be seen as knowledgeable, competent, strong, caring, etc. This mechanism is connected to our sense of self-worth, and it is essential to keep a healthy balance. Some might call it ego, but I feel that a purely negative perspective is unjustified. Who would call hunger gluttony?
As with many things, the long term trends and directions are more important than the immediate actions and responses. Our self is creating coherence over our whole biography.
As a young manager I would sometimes receive the question from my superior why a certain engineer would work on a specific task. Without going into whether an executive should be even asking such a question, in these moments I felt the need to be able to answer that. Isn’t it a valid expectation from a manager to know what is going on with her team? So I grudgingly admitted that I didn’t know, but I would make it part of my responsibilities to know what each of my team members was doing every day. In hindsight this made me a micromanager. Me not knowing something led to transferring my insecurity to my engineers. I focused on details my engineers could very well decide for themselves, instead of focusing on clarifying context and goals.
Today I happily answer to these questions: “I don’t know. There is probably a good reason why they decided to take the decisions they did.”
It is great to be able to confidently say “I don’t know”, because I am convinced that I don’t need to know. And time and again I would find out later that my engineers made great decisions and were solving issues we didn’t consider. They knew better, because through working on the problem they had acquired more information. The context and goals were clear. This allowed them to be more proficient at the task than me.
Another situation was when I was in conversation with a supplier. We tried to architect a slightly complex network. Before we went into the details, figuring out who had to do what, I openly mentioned that I was not a networking expert. I have some high level understanding of the concepts. But networking still feels like voodoo magic to me sometimes.
The supplier was so kind to suggest that we could work together, and that they would connect us with their expert. This moved the conversation to a much more productive level (we were able to ask the question “What problem are we trying to solve?”), with them being the experts guiding us to a good solution.
Consider the alternative. What if I had claimed that I knew how it was supposed to be done. Only requesting the specific steps which I needed them to perform. The purpose and context would have been lost.
Showing vulnerability opens up the space for honest collaboration.
Bonus: Laziness vs. not interested
I added this because of the rule of threes. But I find that this mental approach leads to a better environment.
I do not believe that people are lazy. I replace lazy with “not interested”.
So many spend an amazing amount of time and energy for their particular interests - even if those are seemingly useless to others. One of my favourite pastimes is to learn more about people’s hobbies and passions.
The main point is that they experience growth and mastery. Their life becomes richer and fuller, they become more well-rounded and proficient.
Focusing in conversations on universal values and wishes makes people connect with things they weren’t interested in before.
My software engineers don’t care about closing tickets and fixing bugs. They care about people, helping them, empowering them. I always try to connect our work to the impact we have, the growth, the human experience.
Access
Gaining access to problems and people’s desires is the first step in discovering insights. Our father instilled in us children a sense of curiosity and fearlessness in opening things. He would often tinker with appliances, trying to fix them. I still have fond memories of him sitting concentrated at his desk, working on some machine.
I feel blessed to live and be able to open things - real and metaphorically. “Ah, this is what’s inside.”, feels wondrous every time.