1. Consistency

I’ve attended a company management meeting each Wednesday afternoon since late July, when I started managing my engineering team. Managers from each sector of my company gather to give weekly reports on revenue, product developments, and other progress from the week prior. Afterwards, the CEO gives a presentation on some topic that’s relevant to management (feedback, recruitment, motivation, etc.). These presentations usually entail about five minutes of her personal thoughts and another 25 minutes of business advice from a handful of management-focused YouTube channels. Unsurprisingly, I tend to glean fairly little from the YouTube segment of the meeting. Yesterday, though, I found myself intrigued by the mantra of the meeting: quantity over quality. This isn’t what I typically believe, and I would normally dismiss someone’s advocacy of that position as contrarianism.

One video argued that many of history’s most renowned creators were also some of history’s most prolific. They cited Picasso, who apparently painted over 10,000 paintings and was obviously a master of his craft. Van Gogh, they said, was similarly prolific. Thomas Edison supposedly filed for around 1,500 patents, of which 1,000 were awarded, and one of which was the light bulb. I’m pretty receptive to this argument - that anyone with sufficient practice and output will produce something bright along the way. However, the video goes a step further, claiming that quantity is the cause of quality. Another manager chose this moment to thank our CEO for suggesting that he read Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point, which he mischaracterized as the book where he first learned of the 10,000 hour rule. Very cool.

At any rate, there’s some truth to this view. None of us starts as an expert in any domain, and it’s comforting to believe that any of us can become an expert with sufficient commitment. As an analogue to my post on Patience, I’m guilty of not always demonstrating great perseverance, and I’m striving to do so better. This managerial meeting was a welcome reminder of that pledge.

I’m actually writing this blog post today in an effort to do good on my commitment to commit. I went to all the trouble of building this blog; it would be a shame if I didn’t write to it more often. I’ve therefore promised myself that, at least through the end of 2021, I will author a new post each Thursday. Today is the first of those Thursdays. This process will also encourage me to lower my standards for this blog, as I’d ideally like to write more freely (i.e., about whatever’s on my mind that day), and I think weekly posts will force me to do just that. If the quality of my work improves as well, I’ll take it.

2. Appreciation

My team is welcoming a new member this week. It’s my first time onboarding someone since I became the team lead, and it’s served as a welcome opportunity for reflection. I’ve done my best to involve all the existing team members in the new recruit’s onboarding; they’ve explicitly trained him, answered Q&As as a group, helped him set up tricky environments, and mentored him during shadowing sessions. I’ve been really pleased with their efforts.

Deciding who would own which section of the new hire’s onboarding required that I consider everyone’s personal attributes, experiences, and areas of expertise. For instance, I wanted an experienced and technical team member to explain our code base. I wanted someone with a good grasp on process to explain how and why our team operates like it does. I wanted another recent hire to take on a high degree of personal mentorship, as the recent hire is familiar with onboarding and what it takes to get up to speed with the team.

Furthermore, I realized that this week could serve as a stellar opportunity for us all to learn. If someone with particular expertise would be teaching the new hire, that expert might as well impart that knowledge on the entire group. So each day this week, we’ve hosted workshops where those expert teammates lead presentations on a particular aspect of what our team’s engineering position involves.

As much as I prefer to let individuals self-organize, I, as manager, had to decide who would lead which workshop, given that I wanted to a) have people lead talks about one of their core competencies; and b) not have that much overlap between talks. Assigning these workshops, then, required some reflection on each team member’s unique qualities and abilities. I was reminded of how, when I became the team lead, I was more focused on what each team member was lacking than I was on each of their specialties (“superpowers”, writes Julie Zhuo in her guide The Making of a Manager, which I recommend highly). But time, openness, and weekly 1:1s, also inspired by Ms. Zhuo, brought familiarity with each team member. And familiarity brought appreciation.

I was blown away by the quality - and value - of the workshops. I watched the technical members’ eyes widen as another, less technically savvy teammate described how he organized his tasks and lessons to stay on top of his work and improve. This more organizationally sound member took diligent notes while another described his tactics when updating code. We each contributed our own thoughts in an open forum at the end of the workshop. I’ve learned from each of them, and I’m certain that each team member found value in each other’s workshop.

It’s neat to have facilitated that sort of knowledge transfer, and it makes me think I’m taking some important steps as a team builder, as well becoming more appreciative of the differences that make us each stand out. I know how easy it is to fixate on the faults of those around us, so I’m pleased that my perspective has shifted and that I’m starting to recognize the strengths of those around me instead.

3. Detachment

My first week as manager, I spent my Friday night at my desk until 10pm, toiling away at my weekly report, which I was to send to my CTO, among other executives, for the first time. Desperate to prove myself, I spent hours drafting unnecessarily complex charts and editing my email. When I finally sent it in, I collapsed on my couch, utterly drained from a week that overwhelmed me with the authority and accompanying responsibility that I’d been given. I spent that weekend finishing my first book on management and preparing for the upcoming week, for which I swore I would be better prepared than I was the first.

During that first month, I stayed late each day. Whether I was catching up on organizational tasks, helping another teammate complete his/her work, or finishing my own individual responsibilities, I felt there was always more that needed to be done. And now, whatever was (or wasn’t) completed was my responsibility. I left the office each day exhausted, and the weekends were only a mild reprieve.

Now, almost three months in, I’ve learned to take a step back. I’m no longer allowing my job to occupy my thoughts outside of work; to do so would devour my life. I’ll work late as is required to finish the tasks that I deem necessary to complete that night, but once I shut my laptop, my time is mine. I take time during the workday on Friday to draft my weekly report, which I submit by 6:30 that evening. From that point onward, though, I don’t consider work again until Sunday night. I’m now able to see friends, travel, explore, and play during my time, which I can credibly deem free.

Professionally, I’ve learned how to delegate and channel work through my team members, and I’ve lessened my individual workload in order to allow myself time to help my team accomplish its larger goals. I do believe that I’m the most competent engineer on my team, which initially made it difficult to pare back my individual contributions, but I’ve begun to appreciate that, at least in my current position, I’m of more value to my team and company when I grant myself capacity to focus on my managerial responsibilities.

I recognize the incongruity in my writing this post about work, and next week, at least, I’ll refrain from writing about my professional experiences. Hopefully I’m up to something interesting.