Don’t Look Back
November 23, 2011
In August of 1986, at the end of the one week of overlap between the previous MHSAA executive director, Vern Norris, and the start of my tenure, I found an envelope on my desk from Mr. Norris that read: “No words of advice. Just make your decisions and don’t look back.” That’s Lesson No. 5 of six in this series of blogs.
In our work, time is of the essence. We don’t have the luxury of long deliberations. The next game may be today; the next round of the tournament tomorrow.
In our work, staff is limited. We don’t have subpoena power. We have few staff spread thinly over many responsibilities.
In our work, because it’s in a competitive arena, people are sometimes disingenuous. Some have personal agendas, impure motives sometimes. They care who wins and loses; we don’t.
And most people have miserable memories. I’m skeptical that people recall well the details of events; and people are even worse when recalling details of conversations.
So, in our work, we make one more call and then, with good intentions and reliance on rules, we get on with the decision and try not to look back.
It’s hard to do, but a good deal healthier if we can.
Tools of Thought
July 13, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.