When newspapers are gone, will you miss newsstands?

Marketing guru Seth Godin asked the question today, "When newspapers are gone, what will you miss?" Before getting into the various sections and showing how the web covers each of those areas better, he offers this opinion:

Woodpulp, printing presses, typesetting machines, delivery trucks, those stands on the street and the newsstand... I think we're okay without them.

But are we?

The presses and trucks -- the machinery of creating and delivering the paper -- are transparent to most people. But the newsstand is a user interface. Any UI designer will tell you that the interface influences the type of interaction you have with the underlying system. What type of interaction do you have with a newsstand?

Newsstand in web terms

First, the newsstand serves as a "portal" to divergent news sources. It provides a rough snapshot of what the different publishers think is worth reading about today, all in one place. No matter what your interest, you can go to the newsstand and know that it's represented there.

Then there are the cases where someone discovers an interest while at the newsstand. The user who knows what she is there for, but sees the same screaming headline in 144 pt type on three different papers and decides she wants to see what's happened in the world. Or the user who wants to read something, but doesn't know what until he browses. This second type of user is very common in airports.

The newsstand also serves as a feed reader, always showing the most recent issue of periodicals and dailies, with older issues sometimes available behind the counter. Just as there are people who don't know or care about RSS readers, there are people who have been reading magazines for years who don't track when the new issues will be out. They just check the stand every day or so until they see something new they want to read.

Don't make me think

Both of these functions, the portal and feed reader analogues, are zero maintenance for the users. At most they might ask the proprietor to start carrying a new title. But the mechanics of delivery, storage, display, are all handled for them. With no subscription, no ongoing cost, and the incremental cost entirely under the user's control.

So Seth is right, we probably won't miss the newspapers. But will we miss the newsstands?

Being Useful Is Better Than Being Right

Being right isn't nearly as important as most IT people think. Understanding why that's true is one of the fastest ways to build trust and respect with the non-IT management in your company.

Let's try an example where it's better to be useful than to be right.

Suppose you find out there is a structural problem with your building. It is severe enough that the building could collapse at any moment.

Being Right

You look up the emergency notification policy in the employee handbook. There's a number to call. You call it and explain the details of what you've discovered. They start asking questions about evidence, as you get frustrated that they're not responding fast enough to this emergency, and why don't they get it?

Being Useful

You pull the fire alarm and everyone leaves the building.

Business Prefers Useful

Executives like to get things done. They got where they are by being good at getting what they want. The respect and respond to that trait in others.

So if you want to be recognized as someone who can get things done, you need to actually get some things done. If excruciating detail is what it takes to convince someone they should listen to you, then use detail. If a convenient metaphor will make your point more strongly, then use one. Of course it will gloss over important details, that's why we use metaphors. They simplify reality in a (hopefully) useful way.

Find a good balance betwee rightness and usefulness, and you will take control of your career like you never imagined you could.

You can't unplug a book

The first printing presses were used to print bibles. And porn. That's not a value judgement, just an observation.

The internet was first used to distribute scientific and academic papers. And porn. It seems man hasn't changed much in the last few centuries.

The printing press and the internet share some other features. Like the impact they had on society: education, communication, freedom. Plenty of people have written about the similarities. Some have written about the differences. But I haven't seen much conversation about one important difference: Books can't be turned off.

Why this matters is that writing is something that can be entirely learned by each person who uses it. There is no risk of being unable to use the technology.

I’ll grant that large-scale printing presses are far beyond the reach of individuals, and even whole cultures. But the base concept of printing is so simple that it could be easily duplicated, and scaled up by anyone with basic mechanical aptitude.

Computation is a whole different animal. The utility of "pervasive computing" is explicitly the pervasiveness. The smart chip in my credit card is useless without a reader. Or a computerized register to attach the reader to. Or an internet connection between the register and the VISA system. Or … or … or …

Look at any major urban blackout. Commerce comes to a complete standstill within minutes. You can literally turn the technology off, and society grinds to a halt.

If you smash a printing press, everyone who already had a book still has it. If you burn all the books, people still know how to write.

But disable the networks that allow us to engage in commerce, and suddenly the grocery store shelves go empty. And we don’t have local farms any more to fall back on.

I’m not suggesting that we’re likely to face a protracted breakdown in the current system. But the impact of such a breakdown is certainly on a new scale.

Emboldened by Ignorance

Fans and followers of Tim Ferris are already familiar with his concept of the low information diet and selective ignorance. The basic idea is that there is so much information in the world, and so much news coverage, that you could spend your life keeping up-to-date and never have time to do anything for yourself. By cutting down on the amount of news you follow, you regain time for yourself.

But there's another benefit of selective ignorance that might be even more powerful. If you look hard enough, you can find a good (sounding) reason to not try anything:

• Don't record a blues album, no one listens to the blues.
• Don't travel abroad, terrorists have threatened the airlines again.
• Don't self-publish your book, they never sell.

If Brunonia Barry had known what she was doing was impossible, she never would have gotten a seven-figure book deal when she finished. According to her husband Gary Ward, "We were emboldened by our ignorance. We knew just enough to get going, but not enough to stop us."

He encouraged Brunonia to self-publish her debut novel "Lace Reader". They brought un-bound prints of the book to local book stores and clubs and solicited feedback.

That just isn't how books are published. Authors submit manuscripts to publishers and wait for an offer. Then the publishers tell the authors when, where and how the book will be marketed. But Ward and Barry didn't know that.

Had they known how the publishing business works and, more importantly, had they "known" that what they were doing wouldn't work, there's a good chance no one would have ever heard of "Lace Reader". Instead, reprint rights have been sold in 20 countries and Barry is in discussion for a movie deal.

Bold doesn't mean stupid

The danger of ignoring your critics is that sometimes they're right. When Simon Cowell tells someone that they can't sing, there's a good chance he's right. He's an expert.

That's not the person you want to ignore. The ones to tune out are the naysayers who tell you, "That can't work. No one does it that way."

Every great thing was once the new thing that no one did. Until someone ignored the critics and did it anyway.

So listen to critics. Pay attention when someone has done exactly what you're trying and has valid feedback. But if all they have to say is, "No one does it that way," maybe that means you'll have the field all to yourself.

How To Tell When You're Being Lied To

If you've ever watched more than 30 seconds of a late-night infomercial for a real estate selling "system" you've seen some version of the exact same pitch. "Do what I tell you on the tapes and you'll be rich." But the only people making money are the ones selling the tapes. No one ever gets rich actually following the advice on the tapes.

It doesn't matter what the tapes are about: real estate, home cleaning products, debt consolidation. They're all a scam, because the real money is in selling the system, not in using the system.

The new wrinkle in this is that the scammers have gone "meta". The system they're selling now is the infomercial. Instead of claiming their system will tell you how to sell real estate, they claim their system will tell you how to make your own infomercial. Which can be about real estate, or it can be about ... well, making more infomercials. And making them on the web. See, it's different!

You would think that eventually someone has to get something of value out of the whole arrangement. With the real estate scam someone allegedly gets a house out of it. But with the new racket the only thing that ever comes out of it is a "business" of selling more ads.

If you're too young to know about it, they have a name for this arrangement: Ponzi Scheme. The only people who make money are the people who know that's what they're doing.

So here's how to tell when you're being lied to. If what you're doing is a Ponzi Scheme, are you the one doing it on purpose? If not, then you're being lied to.

Do You Demand Flowers From Your Staff?

What are you supposed to buy for your wife for Valentine's Day? Quick, first thing that pops into your mind ...

Right: flowers. A dozen long-stemmed red roses. Because decades of consistent marketing has worked its magic on you. You could debate that it should be a box of chocolates, or jewelry, and I'd say that's because those two industries have been advertising just as hard.

But have you noticed the hidden assumption? That you're "supposed to" buy something at all. No matter how aggressively the flower, candy and jewelry industries market against each other, none of them will ever contradict this fundamental belief: That extravagant purchases are the approved way to demonstrate commitment.

Most modern American corporations expect you to demonstrate your commitment, too. But instead of flowers the symbol of your commitment is time. Time above and beyond the forty hours you're supposed to work. Time eating at your desk instead of going out to lunch. Time on call via the Blackberry they gave you.

Doing good, steady work is better for the company. But late-night marathons of work get noticed. If you plan well and execute, you don't need late nights, but then there's never a clear moment for the boss to look at and say, "That moment really showed commitment."

In a perfect world, the boss would take the extra effort to recognize good, steady performance. And that's exactly what it takes: extra effort. Which is why it happens so rarely. Even if you're doing things on time, it seems that sometimes you have to put in the late night to get noticed. Because this isn't a perfect world.

But you may be in a position to make the world a little better. If you are the boss, make the extra effort. Publicly recognize employees who reach their goals during normal working hours. Make it clear that late nights are a symptom of poor planning. Demand extra work because it needs to be done, not just to show commitment.

It may be less exciting, and less obvious, but in the long run it's much more productive.

How To Stop Turning Down Work

It's your sixth birthday and your grandfather has just handed you a ridiculously heavy package the size of a shoebox. You open it up to see that yes, it is a shoebox. A shoebox full of pennies.

"I've been dropping all my pennies in there each night since you were born," he says. "I planned to give it to you when it's full, and it's getting close. There's probably more than $200 in there. All you have to do is count them out into stacks of fifty and roll them in those little paper sleeves." This was before the automatic coin counters appeared in grocery stores.

Your six-year-old mind reels at this windfall. You count and wrap until your hands are cramped. You beg you mother to take you to the bank to turn the pennies into "real money," then straight to the toy store to get Frogger for your Atari. (Any similarities to the author's life are purely coincidental.)

Flash forward to today. Someone offers you a box of pennies. All you have to do is count them by hand. You might still take it, but it's not going to be such an obvious choice. How long will it take? What could I be doing instead?

Thinking small

For the mid-career freelancer, this is the calculation that dooms you to punching a clock. You could build that website for the local restaurant, but they want you to keep it up-to-date with their specials. You're not interested in doing maintenance, and they can't afford to keep paying your development rate. So you don't take the work.

You just turned down a lucrative contract because you're thinking like an employee. No, you don't have a boss, but you still think that any hour you're not working is an hour you're not getting paid. To break this mindset, you need to start delegating. You need people working for you.

You're making it as a freelancer because you solve people's problems. When someone wants a site and ongoing support, they have two problems. You can solve the first by building the site, and the second by finding a qualified support person. There are plenty of online resources for finding contract technical workers. Don't make your client go to these sites and try to evaluate people, do it for them.

Thinking big

Instead of selling a Content Management System that will allow a small business owner to update his own site, offer a one-stop service, where your employees will keep the site updated for a monthly fee. Do this enough times and your "passive income" could exceed your new development work.

But even if you don't take a cut of the support fees, having the capability means you can bid on a whole new type of contract: the large kind.

How many Danny DeVitos does the world need?

Seth Godin is absolutely brilliant at questioning the assumptions and "conventional wisdom" that we all rely on when promoting our products or services. He doesn't offer step-by-step recipes "Guaranteed to triple your sales!" In fact he rarely talks about specific numbers at all.

And if his recent post Thinking about Danny Devito is representative, then it's a good thing he doesn't. Because he completely missed the point that "a few" is a whole different thing than "one."

If you haven't read it -- and you really should, it's only 152 words -- the point is that there are a lot more people competing for the George Clooney-type roles than there are competing for the Danny DeVito-type roles. Seth phrases this pseudo-mathematically:

(number of people resembling George Clooney)/(jobs for people resembling George Clooney) is a much bigger number than the ratio available to Danny. For the math challenged: Because everyone in Hollywood is trying to be George, there are a lot more opportunities for the few Dannys willing to show up.

Since his breakout role in Taxi in the early 80s, DeVito has 76 acting credits. During that time he's also had: 33 producing credits, 13 directing, 6 soundtracks, and 76 appearances as himself. It's fair to say he's prolific. And as long as he's able to maintain his pace, he will remain the first choice for anyone who wants someone resembling Danny DeVito.

Think about that phrase, "resembling Danny DeVito." Then consider this chestnut about the career of a movie star:

1. Who's Brad Pitt?
2. Get me Brad Pitt.
3. Get me a Brad Pitt type.
4. Get me a younger Brad Pitt.
5. Who's Brad Pitt?

Now try to come up with a list of actors who you would describe as "a Danny DeVito type." Or "a younger Danny DeVito." I'll wait ...

Yeah, I can't come up with any, either. So it seems that, for now, the important formula is (jobs Danny is able to take)/(jobs for people resembling Danny). And for now that ratio seems to be "one." And "one" is really not at all close to "a few."

It's time to cheat on your publisher

With the current generation of high-speed digital printers, print-on-demand [POD] publishers are making aspiring authors feel wanted like they've never been wanted before. It seems like everywhere you look there's another slick come-on ... free ISBN numbers, your own storefront, listings on Amazon.com.

For someone getting propositioned for the first time, it's easy to fall into a deep relationship with whoever offers the nicest package. The smart ones make it really easy to say "yes". It's just so simple and comfortable, let them take care of everything for you.

I bet you can see this coming

Then something goes wrong and you realize how dependent you've become. All those links on your blog pointing to the order page. All the people you've told where to find you. The PayPal account you set up to take the payments.

It sure was easier to get into this relationship that it seems to be to get out. You tell yourself the problem -- whatever it is -- isn't really that bad, come to think of it. At least it's not bad enough to be worth the pain of finding someone new.

You don't think that time is going to come? Well, you may be right. Through some combination of luck, work and compatibility you may have found the perfect partner for the rest of your publishing life. But do you really want to jump into things that deeply without seeing what else the world has to offer you?

So what's the alternative?

The great thing about all these options is that you can try lots of them without guilt. You realize, if think about it, that they're hooking up with every other writer on the planet just as fast as they can. You're nothing special to them, so why should they be anything special to you?

So play the field. Sign up everywhere you can find that doesn't have setup fees. Upload, test, experiment, enjoy the thrill of it all. And see who actually gives you what you really want: sales.

How corporations spin a risk into a benefit

James Maguire, managing editor of Datamation, wrote in Indian IT Firms: Is the Future Theirs?

"In the past, companies used to award IT outsourcing contracts that were longer, 7-10 years. They would hire one firm to do it, and that firm would have subcontractors," Ford-Taggart says. Now, big clients split up major projects and request bids on individual components. "Then they'll say, "Look, we can have this portion done in India for 30% less.'"

This might cause more managerial headaches for the client company, but in fact it's less risk: clients have fewer eggs in a basket with any one IT firm, so if a projects goes bad or creates cost overruns, the entire project won't take such a big hit.

Emphasis added.

I hate this corporate executive definition of "risk". And before you think I don't get it, I understand what they mean but I think they're wrong.

When I talk about reducing risk, I mean that I'm making problems less likely to occur. What the execs mean when they take this position is that they're diversifying the accountability. They want to be able to report that while 20% of the project is at risk, the other 80% is on track.

Well sure, the other 80% can't be used without the 20% that's missing. But the focus here should be that we've got 80% of the project on time and on budget!

If you admit up front that your process is increasing management headaches, you should realize you're increasing the likelihood of problems. You may be mitigating the potential impact, but that's not a given.

Any mitigation strategy that seeks to minimize the impact of a failure, and does so by increasing the liklihood of failure, is probably a bad idea.

How using people in your ads increases sales

We've all seen the light beer commercials with young, impossibly attractive people guzzling a product that, by all rights, should be making them fat and unhealthy. The obvious question is, "Do they think we're really that stupid? That we think if we drink their beer we'll become supermodels?"

Good question. But it gets the real thinking backwards.

When you show people using the product, you're helping the prospect visualize themselves using it. Make it seem familiar and safe, instead of new and unknown.

But since you can't put each viewer into their own personalized version of the ad (yet), you have to use a stand-in. If you show someone that the viewer would like to be, it increases their desire to want to recreate that image.

So you don't want the prospect thinking, "If I use that product, I will become like that cool, attractive person in the ad." You want them thinking, "Because I am cool and attractive, I can see myself using that product."

It's the same thinking that leads to cliques and fads:

• I'm not cool because I wear Air Jordans. I wear Jordans because I'm cool.
• I'm not tough because I play rugby. I play rugby because I'm tough.
• I'm not a redneck because I drive a truck. I drive a truck because I'm a redneck.

You don't want your prospect to think your product will make them more attractive. You want to help them confirm what they already believe about themselves.

The difference between innovation and sloppiness

I took a couple of art classes in college. In Life Drawing we were supposed to look at the arrangement or person in front of us and put it on paper. In pencil, then charcoal, then ink … watercolor … oil … etc.

I was always good at photorealism. I might not have been fast, but I had some pencil drawings that could have passed (at a distance) for black-and-white photos.

There was another student, an art major who fancied himself an "artiste". His work spanned the range from abstract to really abstract. He looked down on my mere technical facility.

But my grades were as good as his, sometimes better. It seems when he talked about his rejection of formal rules, it really meant he wasn't able to do realism. He didn't have the command of the tools, the mere technical facility. So everything he did owed as much to chance as to intent.

He may have been right, that I didn't have the creativity to do modern art. I'll admit that I appreciate paintings that simply look good, without high-flying pretension or socio-political overtones. I guess I'll never have a SOHO gallery showing. C'est la vie.

But with all his fervor, and whatever glorious visions he had in his head, he couldn't reliably get them onto the paper. He couldn't create something specific, on purpose.

[Cue un-subtle segue ... ]

But what does this have to do with the business world? Scott Berkun wrote recently about how constraints can help creative thinking. When a large corporation does "blue sky" thinking, they can wander aimlessly and never produce. Constraints set a direction.

But I think there's another problem with "blue sky" thinking that goes beyond a lack of direction. It's summed up by Voltaire's famous maxim:

The perfect is the enemy of the good.

When a company tries to "blue sky" a problem, they are implicitly seeking perfection: With no limits, what would be possible?

But there are always limits. They may be self-imposed, inconsequential, misunderstood, overblown, or in any number of other ways not real limits. And it helps to know the difference.

When you start out by asking people what they would do if there were no constraints, don't be surprised when they come back with a solution that can't possibly work. And then convince themselves that theirs is the only possible solution. By then, you've already lost.

Is your resume hot or not?

Getting a job is like getting a date.

1. There may or may not be rules to it.
2. It may or may not be fair.
3. They may be so desperate it doesn't matter what you say. But do you want to hook up with someone who's desperate?
4. Or maybe it doesn't matter what you say because they've decided the answer is "no" before you opened your mouth.
5. The more in-demand you are, the more choosy you can afford to be. But if you want to get this job -- or this date -- then you're probably going to have to say what they want to hear. Good luck figuring out what that is.

How to Kill a Project by Accident

In my last post I talked about perverse incentives in project management. Something I mentioned in passing was what happens when you don't have positive incentives: the cases where there is simply no incentive to do the right thing. I realized there's actually another way to get this wrong by trying too hard to get it right.

Let's say you have just finished a project, gone into production, and it blew up. Data corruption, security problems, too slow, everything that can go wrong with a product. First you do an emergency project to fix it, then you do the after-action review to see what went wrong.

What you find is that you didn't have good test coverage. There were whole modules that were never reviewed before going into production. It's painfully obvious that there was a complete breakdown in the QA process.

Fixing yesterday's problem

You're not going to make that mistake again. You write up policies for demonstrating test coverage. You create reports to track test execution and results. You re-write employee performance expectations to align with the new methodology. (If you've read my stuff before, you should hear the alarm bells start ringing when you see the "m word".)

Your next project is going exactly according to plan. Test coverage is at 90% overall, with 100% of high priority use cases covered. You're on schedule to execute all test cases before acceptance testing starts. Defects are identified and corrected.

Then the users get it. They hate it. It doesn't do anything the way they wanted it to. Not only that, it doesn't even do what they asked for. How could you be so far off?

You don't get what you don't measure

Look back at what incentives you created. You reward doing the methodology, following the checklist. Test coverage is great, but it's not the goal of the project. The goal is to provide something of value to the users ... or at least it should be. Did you include a line in the new process that explicitly says, "Check with the users that it's doing what they need"?

So how do you create the right incentives? Just flip the emphasis. Instead of saying an employee's performance evaluation is 80% following the methodology and 20% client satisfaction, turn the numbers around. Your users don't care that you followed "best practices." They care that the product does what they need. Where is that measured in your methodology?

Installing software is not worth my time

My PC is managed according to corporate standards. I can't install anything without an administrator signing on and authorizing it. I asked if I could install the software to link to my cell phone and load my contacts into it. Otherwise I'd be spending a couple of hours over the next week manually entering them all in via the keypad.

The day after I put the ticket in, someone called up and asked where the software was. I told him I had it on a CD. The local support guy came up the next morning, saw that it was an OEM disk and not some random thing I'd burned, and logged in as administrator so I could install it.

Sure, it was two days before I got what I needed, but it wasn't a compelling gotta-have-it-today issue.

Everything else on here is available as a network install, and is set up in my profile. When I get a new PC -- I'm due to be refreshed in the next month or so -- I'll go to a single application, check the boxes for everything I need, and go to lunch. When I come back, everything will be installed.

Every application that I install myself I'd have to reinstall when I get a new PC. How many hours would that take? Multiply that by the number of users in my office, which just relocated earlier this year. Most of us didn't take the hardware from the old location, we just came to blank systems at our new desks and kicked off the install process.

If I'm paying for it, it is not worth my time to install software. If my alternatives are to load all my apps on a new PC I've just bought, or to work a billable hour and pay someone else to do the installs, I'll pay the Geek Squad to click OK and reboot 14 times. Why should I expect the company I work for, who owns the PC I'm working on, to make a different decision?

The program is not the product

Managers want programs to be like the output of a factory. Install the right robots and tooling, start the process, and good software comes out the end.

WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!!!! (Can you tell I disagree?)

Nearly everyone who makes the factory analogy misses a very fundamental point: the program is not the product. For one thing, unless you work for a software company selling shrink-wrapped software products you aren't ever selling the program. Conventional wisdom says most programmers actually work for internal IT, so it's safe to say most programs are never sold.

Businesses don't want programs, they want credit reports ... and loan contracts ... and title searches ... and purchase orders ... and claim forms ...

So what is the right analogy? The program is the assembly line! So measuring bugs in the program is wrong. Even comparing compiling to manufacturing -- which is better than comparing programming to manufacturing -- is wrong. What you should be looking at is the output produced by the program.

Is your program a website? Measure the number of pages it can produce per unit time, without error. Is it an editor? Measure the number of pages it can spell-check per unit time, and with what accuracy.

When measuring the output of a manufacturing process, you literally shouldn't care what the process looks like, nor what tools are used, so long as it consistently produces the same output. This is not to say the process and tools don't matter. A bad process may be prone to unexpected failure. Tools may be harder to maintain or have a shorter service life. You may be locked into a service contract with the manufacturer. And coincidentally [ahem] all these factors apply to software.

So yes, programming can be compared to manufacturing. As long as you remember that the program is not the product, the program is the assembly line.

Changing your development platform

There are certain milestones in the life of a product when developers are free to ask if it’s time to change the platform it’s developed on. Typically you’ve shipped a major version and gone into maintenance mode. Planning has started for the next version, and you wonder if you should stick with what you’ve got or if, knowing what you know now, it might be better to switch from .NET to PHP, or from PHP to Java.

You might think that checking Netcraft would be a good idea. You can see if your current platform is gaining or losing market share, and who doesn’t like market share? If you look at the latest chart you’ll see that Microsoft is gaining on Apache.

But keep in mind that while Apache's market share has gone down marginally, the total number of sites has still gone up. Most of Microsoft's gain is from new sites, not from existing sites switching. (The exception being large site-parking operations switching to IIS.)

But really the important question is whether your preferred platform faces a reasonable possibility of becoming obsolete/unsupported. This is actually one place where the Unix world's slower upgrade cycles help. You rarely have applications "sunsetted" by the manufacturer.

Am I arguing in favor of dropping .NET? Not at all. I think you should use what works for you. What I'm saying is unless your chosen platform is in danger of becoming unsupported, and that causes a problem for you, then looking at market share charts should never get you to switch.

Now if you hadn't already chosen a platform, and you wanted to know what platform had a larger market, then you'd care about market share. But that's a subject for another post.

Geeks still don't know what normal people want

If you listen to geeks, locking out development of third-party applications will doom the iPhone in the market. But remember the now-famous review when the iPod was released:

No wireless. Less space than a nomad. Lame.

The market quickly decided they didn't care about wireless and bought the things in droves. And current versions have more space than the nomad did when the iPod came out. Now that the iPhone has been shown, geeks are again claiming that it's going to fail. This time because it's not going to be open to third-party applications.

Apple doesn't care if you can extend it because they believe their target customer doesn't want it extended. They want something that works well, the same way, every time. The iPod wins because it does pretty much what people want, close enough to how they want, without making them think about how to do it.

The iPhone may not be open to developers, but it's upgradable. When Apple finishes writing software to make the Wi-Fi automatically pick up a hotspot and act as a VoIP phone, that functionality can be rolled out transparently. First-gen iPhones will become second-gen iPhones without the users having to do anything.

The upgrade path will be to higher HD capacity, so people can carry more movies with them. I see these things as hugely popular for people who take trains to work. If I could take a train where I work now, I'd already be on a waiting list for an iPhone.

Pay the man

IT people are frequently highly-educated, with extensive formal and on-the-job training. And we all, if you look at our resumés, think that we're fast learners. That's probably because everything we work with keeps changing every couple of years, so anyone who's been doing this for very long has learned multiple generations of tools. Many of our jobs also require us to be generalists, with a broad range of knowledge across multiple unrelated fields.

It's probably not surprising, then, that we tend to be DIYers. Never changed a light fixture? No problem. Give me a few minutes with a book and I'll know enough to do it. House needs painting? Heck, I've always wanted an excuse to go get one of those power sprayers, I'm on it! That's why we're shocked to hear how much people pay to have someone do work that, after all, we could do ourselves with little or no training.

That was my frame of mind when I had to replace the shower door. The frame was mounted on tiled walls. I only cracked two of the tiles a little bit trying to get the old frame off, and lifted about a dozen away from the wall. No problem, just ran to the hardware store for some tile adhesive. And I only put the adhesive on a little too thick, so two of the tiles fell off the next day when I started mounting the frame. And I only cracked one more because I was unfamiliar with the mounting hardware.

I had to remove all the tiles and start over because the adhesive was actually nowhere near dry. I wanted to make sure it dried all the way, because I wasn't completely sure I did it right this time. When I tried again three days later, there was only one tile that fell off because I had gone too thin with the adhesive. But after waiting a day for the grout on the rest to dry, I was able to scrape that space out and get the last tile up and grout it. The caulk and grout I used to patch the cracks looks mostly okay ... for now ... while it's still white

All in all, it only took me a week and a half to hang that door. And the cracked and patched tiles will probably still look good when I go to sell the house. (At least I hope they will; the color was discontinued years ago, so I'd have to re-tile the whole damn bathroom otherwise.) I'm so glad I didn't pay a hundred bucks to some barely-trained tradesman to do it for me.

Lipstick on a pig

If you've ever seen one of my project plans, there's a chance you've seen a task at the end that says "Add pretty". With good use of stylesheets, you can radically improve -- or damage -- the look of a website even after all the coding and most of the testing are done. A different person or group with a different skill set can take over from the programmers and work some magic with little interaction.

You might think, based on this, that other parts of development can be pushed to the end after "real" development is done. You'll know someone was thinking that when you see a task late in a project plan that says "Add fast".

I suppose I can live with the idea that there will be some performance tuning that's best done once everything else is complete. And on some projects just throwing more hardware at the problem is cheaper than a programmer's time to fix it. But actually improving the performance of an application is hard, and the changes pervasive.

The second manifestation of specialized groups, one that always raises the brown flag, is when I see "Add security" at the end of a plan. It's simply inexperience that allows anyone to think they can graft a security model onto a codebase after the fact without significant amounts of rewriting.

"But this is a quick hack, and we only need the numbers for this one meeting." Sure, a report you'll only ever need once. I guess such a thing could exist, but I've never seen it. In the first place, nothing lasts as long as a temporary fix that works well enough. And in the second place, many (most?) large, successful products started out as small, successful products.

End/begin dependencies look really great on a Gantt chart. Activities that invite and incorporate feedback don't look so neat and clean. Treating security as something that can happen to a product after it's already done is no better than ... well, see the title of this post.