Its all in the fine print

I noticed the fine print on a TV commercial this evening. I often do. In fact I've realised that while I'm listening to the voice over, I'm generally scanning the bottom of the screen for the weasel words that describe why the product really is too good to be true.

This one was simple though. It said "your local store may have heaps or none". I thought, that's great. It's says exactly what it needs to. No more, and no less. No weasel words at all.

I think it's becoming clear that as consumers we are so much less willing to be sold to, spun, and misdirected. Not that it still doesn't work. But most of the time there's just no point. When you tell a clever lie, you're actually wasting an opportunity to tell a clever truth. And you won't get a 2nd chance.

What does your job mean to you?

This is a subject that I have had some time to reflect on recently. Last week I received a redundancy package, so I find myself with more time to reflect on a lot of things.

Who exactly am I? I think the only genuine way to answer that is to talk about the connections I share. I'm a son, and a brother. I'm a husband and a father. I'm a friend.

So employee and colleague are missing from the list. The irony is, if I had to place a value on what each role means to me, I would have placed those at the bottom. But it's hard to escape the impact their absence has on my state of mind. I like to think of myself as a progressive thinker. I don't like to imagine myself being trapped by a traditional mindset. And yet here I am. At home. During the day. I feel like I'm wagging school.

I have often predicted, frequently to my wife, that the nature of employment is changing. In general, and specifically, for me. I have been attempting to mentally prepare her for contracting, consulting, or start-up life, where a wage is as quaint and old fashioned an idea as not been seen in public without a hat.

But it appears I may have failed to prepare myself.

What does your job mean to you? Would your answer change if tomorrow it was gone? Should it?

I'm not a Ninja - I'm a Product Samurai

The label "Ninja" is so overused right now. Not quite as bad as "Rock Star", but it must be close. I understand the need for redefining terminology in a new work environments,  but if we're going to be more creative in the way we describe ourselves, then let's actually be creative, rather than relying on the first two pop icons that spring to mind.

I'm definitely not a ninja. Relying more on my interpretation than historical accuracy, ninjas rely very heavily on individual skill, and are available for hire to the highest bidder. They don't take sides. Their only cause is themselves.

That describes a lot of programmers I know (:)), but as a Product Manager, that's not the type of role model I want, and not the type of label I'm going to give myself. 

Instead, I'm a Product Samurai!

Yes, I have skills, but I am nothing without my personal value system. I apply my skills with honour. I stand for something bigger than myself, and I never stand alone.

That sounds more like it. What's your alternative title? (And don't say rock star).

I can't smell the herd

My primitive mind has it's own idea about what connectivity means.

I'm lying, not quite asleep, in the grass, beneath a copse of trees. Beyond, the savannah is visible in the moonlight. And around me sleeps the herd.

I can hear them breathing and grunting as they sleep. I can feel a warm body on each side of me. The rise and fall of a chest. And I can smell them.

These sensations tell me that all is well. I'm part of a group that will shelter and protect me, my mate, and our offspring.

My modern mind knows that I am more connected to the rest of my species than I have ever been. But I can no longer smell them. I tweet, update, connect and check-in. But is anyone really listening? None of these networks makes me feel at rest, within a group to which I really belong.

 

Everyone should know where they came from