Category: Understanding life and the world

Big ideas and analysis related to life and the world. This is where I become philosophical and tend towards guru-ness.

The Zeigarnik Effect and Open Loops [en]

[fr] L'effet Zeigarnik, c'est ce qui nous fait finir quelque chose dans lequel on est lancé, ou qui fait qu'on repense à ce qu'on a interrompu pour y revenir. A mon avis, cet effet joue un rôle clé dans ce qui nous attire encore et encore à retourner sur Facebook ou autre: en prenant part dans des communautés et réseaux en ligne, on met en marche toutes sortes de choses dont on veut voir l'aboutissement. J'ai posté un lien, la chaîne d'actions logique est ensuite que des gens vont liker, commenter et partager. Il y aura peut-être une réponse à donner, ou tout du moins, je veux "suivre" pour savoir comment ça fini. Les conversations en ligne, idem: il y a toujours quelque chose qui se passe dans un chat, la discussion ne se termine jamais.

A few months ago, I stumbled upon the Zeigarnik Effect. It is the effect that prevents us from interrupting our teeth-brushing in the middle. Once we’ve started, we feel a need to keep going. It’s really useful.

For me, it was a missing piece of the puzzle that fitted nicely alongside the idea of GTD’s “open loops”. If you have to interrupt something before you’re done with it or the task is completely, the Zeigarnik Effect will make sure your brain nags you about it.

It explains why it’s important to “just get started” or “just do something”. It also explains why having a lot of ongoing stuff in parallel is stressful.

While I’ve been writing this post, I’ve given myself a wonderful demonstration of the Zeigarnik Effect in action. You see, I couldn’t remember exactly where I’d heard about it. I’m pretty sure it’s in one of James Clear‘s posts, because it’s definitely the kind of thing that he writes about, but I’m not 100% certain.

I can remember the context: for a given task, there is a kind of “tipping point” where the Zeigarnik Effect kicks in, and you finish what you’ve started. Knowing where that point is comes in really handy for getting things done rather than just thinking about how we’re not doing them. I remember the example clearly: for flossing, the “tipping point” or “trigger” in question was when he’d torn the piece of floss off the roll.

I’ve just spent… oh, I don’t even dare tell you… way too much time trying to find that article so I could link to it. I found plenty about flossing and the Zeigarnik effect. The worst is that I already spent way too much time trying to dig out that source when preparing a mini-workshop on “time/task management” I gave two months back. And didn’t find it.

You know the irony? I just stumbled upon the article in question! It wasn’t James Clear after all. And you know the funny bit? I thought I’d add a link to a Google search in the above paragraph. Just to show you how much stuff about Zeigarnik and floss I had waded through. To my surprise, many of the links there were not those I had been wading through an hour ago. Maybe I only searched in specific places where I thought the article was, like Clear’s blog. Anyway. I have it! Incredible!

The reason I went down that rabbit-hole was because it was an “unfinished task”. And the more time I spent trying to “finish” it, the stronger my urge to keep going became. Typical, right?

And here we go again: while looking up some old articles of mine, I remembered that the markdown plugin wasn’t working on the new server. I had to hold myself back from downloading and installing it. It would have meant interrupting the writing of this blog post, though, so I guess that is what just saved me. But now I have this nagging “open loop” in a corner of my mind.

(Bear with me while I add it to my running list of things that need to be done so I can stop thinking about it.)

(Oops, while I was there, I quickly checked a spreadsheet to see if there were any new sign-ups for my next workshop. There weren’t. Do I leave the form open or close it now?)

As you can see, there is a clear link here to multitasking, procrastination, and the general feeling of “not enough brain space” that I have a times. It also makes me think about how when I start something, I have a lot of trouble stopping. Hypertrophied Zeigarnik Effect?

Today — and this is what prompted this post — I suddenly realised that the Zeigarnik Effect played an important part in dragging me back to my computer, or my phone (home to Facebook and Google Plus). By participating in online communities and networks (sounds better than “social media” doesn’t it? more human?) I set things in motion that do not end.

An online conversation is never-ending. There are always people in the chatroom. I post a link, it will be interesting to see who likes, comments, or shares it. I stumble upon interesting articles that need to be read.

My time on my phone or my computer is spent creating innumerable open loops that I am then desperate to close, while at the same time opening yet others that will also have to be closed. Whack-a-mole.

It feels like my “tipping point” for feeling the urge to finish something (or at least dive in) is ridiculously early. Am I mixing two things up here? Do we still speak of the Zeigarnik Effect when a task has not actually been started? Is thinking about doing it sufficient in some cases to “initiate” it?

So here’s my next mission: taming my open loops. I can’t remove them, but I can learn to live with them better.

(This was originally the title to this post, but given I’m not sure how I’m going to do that it seemed a little misleading.)

Before writing this post, I googled for “open loops social media” and other related searches, and I now have about a dozen articles to read about “compulsion loops” and the inevitable “social media addiction” (disclaimer: I’m not convinced it is correct to speak about “addiction” in this context). I’ll probably have more to write on the topic… if I manage to get around to reading them. 😉

Outrage Management and Precaution Advocacy [en]

[fr] Interview très intéressant concernant la communication des risques. Un risque c'est un danger objectif, et aussi une réaction subjective, "outrage". Les deux ne sont pas liés. On voit des réactions très émotionnelles à des risques très bas, et des risques hauts qui n'inquiètent pas du tout les gens. Il s'agit donc de trouver des techniques pour "calmer" l'inquiétude excessive pour des dangers mineurs (= "outrage management") et augmenter le sentiment de danger pour les dangers qui n'inquiètent pas assez (= "precaution advocacy"). Fascinant.

Listening to an old episode of On The Media, I came upon this super interesting segment about risk communication (titled Terrorists vs. Bathtubs — listen to the piece, it’s just over 10 minutes, or read the transcript).

Brooke interviews Peter Sandman, expert in the field. He presents risk as a combination of outrage and hazard. Hazard is the real danger and outrage is how upsetting it is. There is no correlation between the two, and that is what makes risk communication tricky.

When I was studying chemistry I had a class on risk management. It was one of my most interesting classes, and had I stayed in chemistry, I might have delved deeper into the subject. What I learned (and it changed the way I view the world) is that a risk is a product of a probability (that something will happen) and of the amount of damage if it happens. Peter Sandman adds another dimension to the equation: the human reaction.

Outrage management is what you do when you’re faced with people who are excessively angry or frightened about something that is not that dangerous. Precaution advocacy is what you do to make people more worried/scared about something they are not concerned about enough.

Trust and control play a big role on how much outrage a risk will generate. If I trust you and you say it’s no big deal, I’ll calm down. If I control the risk I’ll be less outraged than when I don’t (quoting from the interview transcript):

Trust is a biggie. If I trust you, I’m going to find the risk that you are exposing me to much more acceptable than if I don’t trust you. If you trust the government to tell you that surveillance is no big deal and they’re gonna do it responsibly, you’re gonna have a different response than if you think the government is not to be trusted. So trust is one.

Control is one. If it’s under my control I’m going to be less upset than if it’s under your control. Memorability goes in the other direction. If you can remember awful things happening or you can imagine awful things happening, that makes the risk more memorable, that makes it more a source of outrage. But what’s key here is that outrage has a much higher correlation with perceived hazard than hazard has with perceived hazard.

Peter gives an example of how to manage outrage:

Let’s take a situation that most of your listeners are going to think is genuinely low hazard, like vaccination. But if you’re the CDC or you’re some public health department and you’re dealing with a parent who’s anxious, it’s not mostly telling the parent that it’s foolish to worry about vaccine. It’s much more listening to the parent’s concerns. It’s partly acknowledging that there is some truth to those concerns. The strongest argument in the toolkit of opponents of vaccination is the dishonesty of vaccination proponents about the very small risk that’s real. If you’re 98 percent right and pretending to be 100 percent right, then the advocates of that two percent nail you!

And here’s an example of the opposite, precaution advocacy, when you actually try and increase outrage to encourage people into safer behaviours:

One of the things that demonstrably works well with seatbelts and well generally in precaution advocacy is scaring people. So those scary drivers at movies that, you know, they make teenagers watch actually do a lot of good. Role models work.

One of the most effective things in persuading people to get vaccinated against the swine flu pandemic a couple of years ago was when President Obama got his children vaccinated. One  example of a strategy that’s very powerful is if you can get people to do a behavior that doesn’t necessarily make sense to them, because they don’t have the attitude to support that behavior, once they have done the behavior, they begin to wonder why they did it. This is called cognitive dissonance. And, and cognitive dissonance is a very strong motivator for learning things that you wouldn’t otherwise want to learn.

A nice example of this is most people who have ever tried to ask people to sign petitions notice that more people sign your petition and then read your literature than read your literature and then signed your petition. They sign the petition to be courteous, and then the act of signing the petition makes them wonder, what did I do, what did I sign? Then they read the literature, in order to teach themselves that what they did made sense and, and to develop an attitude that supports the behavior.

The conversation goes on to talk about the NSA and surveillance and terrorism (this is not long after the Snowden leaks), as well as the narrative around fracking, which Peter has since written about on his website. (His website is full of good stuff, by the way, including musings on his legacy, as he’s pretty much semi-retired.)

What I was really interested in though was this concept of outrage, and how trying to calm outraged people down with facts doesn’t really work.

LeWeb13: Kitesurfing [en]

Kitesurfing is something I’ve known Loïc did for a long time, but only recently (about a year ago) did I actually see people doing it in Torrevieja where my family goes sailing. Kitesurfing is now on my bucket list — it’s something I really want to learn. Not for the business though, which will be the topic of this session.

World champion kitesurfer on stage right now, Jessie Richman. steph-note: showing a video, lots of jumps and figures, I’m more of the go-downhill kind of snowboarder, so less excited about that aspect of kitesurfing — not mentioning that I’d never have the arms for it.

Kiteboarding // entrepreneurship: risk, all sorts of things that can go wrong. Once in the air, you can’t turn back.

Jessie tells us about what it is like to be doing what he does. To learn new stuff, sometimes you just have to “do it”. Loïc describes a loop where you jump as high as your kite, pull on one side of the “bar”, the kite does a 360…

steph-note: liked the theme here but sadly had trouble following the conversation… Sure I could make a bunch of parallels with judo too.

Our Relationship To Technology: Is Your Smartphone In Charge, Or You? [en]

[fr] Une réflexion sur notre relation à la technologie. C'est pas aussi simple que "addiction! addiction! au secours!".

Today’s post, again, brought to you by an article of Loïc Le Meur’s: Why are we checking our smartphones 150x a day? (Remember when Loïc was a blogger?) He links to a video with the catchy title “After I saw this, I put down my phone and didn’t pick it up for the rest of the day”.

I have mixed feelings about this kind of discussion.

  • On the one hand, I think we need to strive to be those in charge of our use of devices, and not victims of the operant conditioning of modern technology.
  • On the other hand, I think that framing the issue of our relationship with technology as addiction is counter-productive, as it puts the blame on technology and removes responsibility from users.

It’s also not a new conversation, and it pops up every now and again as “today’s big problem”. Hey, I was afraid I had “internet addiction” back in 1998. I read Silicon Snake Oil and The Psychology of Cyberspace, headed off to my chalet for a week, and stopped worrying.

As far as I’m concerned, I’m online a lot, both on my computer and on my phone, but I still perceive being on your phone when in human company as “impolite”. I try not to do it too much. So, usually, when I’m with other people, I won’t be on my phone, unless:

  • we’re playing with our phones: taking photos, looking at stuff together, etc.
  • there is something I need to attend to (I apologize and try and be quick)
  • I’m looking something up to help us solve a problem or get information we need
  • we’re spending quite some time together and are both having “phone-time”

I’m aware this doesn’t mean much: with the same description I could be glued to my phone all the time. How do you define “something I need to attend to”?

So, some context.

My phone is in silent mode, and I have very few notifications set (same on my computer). It usually lives at the bottom of my bag. When I’m working, there are chances it’s next to me on my desk. It’s often charging or abandoned in another room when I’m at home.

I’ll check it somewhat compulsively when I’m on the bus, or when I’m using it “as a computer” to hang out online. If I’m with other people, as I said, I don’t take it out too much (though they’ll be the best judges about how much — I do take it out).

I suffer from FOMO like almost everyone who is connected today, I guess. But I don’t feel that I’m a slave to it. I read The Paradox of Choice many years ago and it really opened my eyes: today’s world is so full of possibilities. If you don’t want to succumb to the anxiety of too much choice and too many options, you need to be aware of what’s going on, and accept you’ll miss out. I try to be selective. I still struggle, but I know I’m going to miss out and it’s not the end of the world. (It’s in my social media survival kit, by the way.)

Why do we end up compulsively checking our phones and stuff? I think there are many reasons, and that’s why saying it’s an “addiction” is a way to frame the problem in a way that makes it difficult to address.

  • FOMO: with the internet, we have access to everything that is going on, all the time, everywhere. If we want to be “part of it”, hang out with the cool kids, or share the video that’ll get us 20 likes, we feel a pressure to “not miss” what is going on in the real-time stream. So we overload ourselves on the input side. We think we need to consume everything.
  • Operant conditioning: I’m clicker-training one of my cats, Tounsi. He knows that a click means a reward is coming. When I’m reinforcing a behaviour, I use an intermittent reinforcement schedule: he doesn’t get a reward with each click.
    See how this fits with digital interfaces, and even more strongly, social media? I think Kevin Marks is the first one who first pointed out this phenomenon to me, when I was having trouble taking breaks from my computer even though I had bad RSI.
    Suw Charman-Anderson wrote about how it applies to e-mail back in 2008. We check our mail, there might be some candy in there. We check Facebook, there might be a like or a comment. Nothing? It only makes the urge to check again more compelling: the next time could be rewarded!
    Yeah, dopamine plays a role in there. Understand how your brain works so you’re not a slave to your hormones and neurotransmitters.
  • Validation: we want to be loved and appreciated, and some of what we’re looking for online is just that. Oh, somebody responded to my post. Oh, somebody sent me a nice e-mail. Ooh. But people who thinks that this is the only thing in play round down our issue with technology to an “ego problem” (very fashionable). It doesn’t help. But yeah, if you feel that your drive for franticly checking your phone when you’re having dinner with a friend is just that, maybe it’s worth addressing.
  • Work: the other time when I ran off to my chalet to find some peace was in 2008, and it was not to escape technology. It was to escape work. Our relationships to work and technology are very much entwined. Often, when people say they’re “addicted to their email”, and you take the trouble to dig a bit, you realise the problem is not “email” but “work”. They can’t pull away from work. They work during the week-ends, the evenings, their holidays. This is, I believe, a bigger issue than technology. Our relationship to work, as a society, is unhealthy. (And: Americans, you have a way bigger problem here than us Swissies.)
  • Not engaging: people often look at “not engaging” as a consequence of excessive use of technology. It’s the message conveyed by the video Loïc linked to in his post. I think that’s missing the point that “not engaging” can be the objective here. Relationships are difficult. Being present is difficult. Being with oneself is difficult. Being present to life is difficult. We do many things to avoid doing all this. We veg’ in front of the TV. We talk about unimportant stuff to avoid dealing with what matters in our relationship. And, increasingly, we dive into our phones.
    In the past, I used my camera a lot to “find my place” in social gatherings that would otherwise make me feel awkward. If I’m the person taking photos, I have a place. I have a pretext for interacting with others. I can remove myself from what is going on to be the observer snapping pics. It’s much more difficult to find my place and be with others if I’m just me, with no escape.
    So when we look at somebody who has his nose in his phone during a dinner party, I’d also ask “what is he avoiding by not being present?”

I think I have a reasonably healthy relationship to technology — and work. I have my drinking completely under control 😉

So, a wrap-up:

  • I check my phone in the evening before going to bed, and it sleeps on my bedside table, on but mute, and it never wakes me up (except when I ask Siri to do so).
  • I generally keep my phone muted and in my bag and my notifications off (also on my computer!)
  • I understand how FOMO and operant conditioning work, I’m aware of my need for validation and how I react to the infinity of choices in the world around me.
  • I stop working at the end of the day, and on week-ends, and I take holidays. Real holidays, not work-holidays.
  • I “switch off” a couple of times a year, taking a week or a few days off somewhere with no internet, where I don’t work and use my computer mainly for writing and having fun with my photos. This helps me remember what it is like to live more slowly, and makes me want to bring some of that back into my “normal” life.
  • I try and give priority of my attention to the people I’m with offline, without being religious about it. If I do need to attend to my phone or online stuff when in company, I try not to “disconnect” from the person I’m with offline.
  • I consider that I am the one in charge of my relationship with technology, and strive for a healthy balance between my ability to spend time totally immersed and connected and multitasking, and my ability to be completely (as completely as possible) present to the “offline”, be it a book, a person, an activity, or myself.
  • Like so many things in life, it’s about having healthy boundaries.

When I shared Loïc’s post on Facebook, he commented that we seemed to have similar points of interest these days. For some time, I’ve found what Loïc is writing about much more interesting to me. It’s more personal. Less about business, more about life. Life has always been the thing that interests me the most. My interest for the internet and social media comes from my interest in how people connect and relate to each other.

Interestingly, this is also the kind of stuff I’ve decided to shift my work focus to. Labelling myself as a “social media” person doesn’t fit with what I really do and want to do, specially in the Swiss context where “social media = digital marketing”, something I have very little interest in and want to stay the hell away of. So I’m moving towards “I help you use technology better”. Helping people have a healthy relationship with tech, use it to do their work or whatever it is they need to get done better. Some of social media fits in there too, of course. But also stuff like (yes, still in 2013), learning to use and manage email properly. (I’m actually preparing a training proposal for a client on just that these very days.)

So, how’s your relationship to technology? Who is in charge, you or the compulsion to check if there is something more exciting going on?

Note: I wrote this article in one sitting, getting up once to go to the loo (!) and checking my phone’s lock screen on the way back (it’s charging in another room) to see if I had a message from my neighbour, as we had been exchanging messages earlier and made a vague plan yesterday to maybe hang out together and look at cat photos this morning.

Three Good Things [en]

Here’s something I do regularly that really quickly improves my mood — within a few days: take a moment each evening to make a note of “three good things” for the day. Things that went well. Positive things. Even in the shittiest times, you can find three things to look at positively.

I started doing it after reading The How of Happiness. One of the intentional activities that has been shown to make people happier is practicing optimism. Some time before, I head read Learned Optimism, which really changed the way I viewed the inner workings of my psyche. I had not realized that optimism was something you could train yourself into. And reasonably easily.

Making note of three good things during the day past is a way of tuning your brain into a “positive” mode. Positive attracts positive, negative attracts negative (that’s one thing I learned over a decade ago reading Emotional Intelligence: why it may make sense in certain gloomy times to just go watch a funny movie and laugh to “switch gears”).

You know when you start to spiral downwards, making a mental list of all the things that are going wrong today/in your life/this year? Well, you can do the same thing to go upwards. And all it may take is a few mindful minutes of your time to shine the light on good things.

I use Path for this. I love Path, though I’m connected to precious few people on it — scratch that, because I’m connected to few people. A dozen, maybe fifteen at the most. My good things are kind of private, not really blog or facebook material. Path works really well for this. And I have two-three Path friends who have started doing “three good things” too — I love reading those postings.

I usually do “three good things” for a while, then forget or drop off the wagon, and if I start feeling down or discouraged, I remember to get started again. And as I said, within a few days I’ve usually perked up.

This is one of the things I love about growing older: knowing yourself so much better. Fifteen or twenty years ago it would have taken me months to crawl out of what is now a slight dip that lasts a few days, a week at the most.

Have you tried this? Do you do anything similar?

Loneliness [en]

[fr] Sur la solitude.

This morning I stumbled upon the article Only The Lonely, in which Stephen Fry talks about depression, wanting to end things, mental health, and loneliness.

Here’s the passage that made me think a bit more about the nature of loneliness:

Lonely? I get invitation cards through the post almost every day. I shall be in the Royal Box at Wimbledon and I have serious and generous offers from friends asking me to join them in the South of France, Italy, Sicily, South Africa, British Columbia and America this summer. I have two months to start a book before I go off to Broadway for a run of Twelfth Night there.

I can read back that last sentence and see that, bipolar or not, if I’m under treatment and not actually depressed, what the fuck right do I have to be lonely, unhappy or forlorn? I don’t have the right. But there again I don’t have the right not to have those feelings. Feelings are not something to which one does or does not have rights.

In the end loneliness is the most terrible and contradictory of my problems. I hate having only myself to come home to. If I have a book to write, it’s fine. I’m up so early in the morning that even I pop out for an early supper I am happy to go straight to bed, eager to be up and writing at dawn the next day. But otherwise…

There are two important things here. The first is that feelings are there, and the question of whether you have the right to them or not is irrelevant. They are there. If you feel this way, then you feel this way. That way? That way. That’s it.

The bit on loneliness got me thinking. Everyone knows how lonely it can be to be in a relationship that has stopped functioning. How one can be at a dinner party surrounded by people and still be lonely.

Loneliness doesn’t have much to do with having human beings around you. What makes you “not lonely” is being connected to others in a meaningful way. Feeling recognized for who you are, and not for a social or professional persona you project when others are around. For me there is no contradiction in what Stephen tells us of his busy social life and his feeling of loneliness. It’s apples and oranges.

Having a social life does not mean you have authentic relationships with others.

3rd #back2blog challenge (10/10), with: Brigitte Djajasasmita (@bibiweb), Baudouin Van Humbeeck (@somebaudy), Mlle Cassis (@mlle_cassis), Luca Palli (@lpalli), Yann Kerveno (@justaboutvelo), Annemarie Fuschetto (@libellula_free), Ewan Spence (@ewan), Kantu (@kantutita), Jean-François Genoud (@jfgpro), Michelle Carrupt (@cmic), Sally O’Brien (@swissingaround), Adam Tinworth (@adders), Mathieu Laferrière (@mlaferriere), Graham Holliday (@noodlepie), Denis Dogvopoliy (@dennydov), Christine Cavalier (@purplecar), Emmanuel Clément (@emmanuelc), Xavier Bertschy (@xavier83). Follow #back2blog.

Comment respirer avec ses mails en 5 étapes [fr]

[en] Five steps to feeling on top of your e-mail, with the new Gmail inbox.

Cet après-midi, j’ai aidé une amie à reprendre le contrôle de sa boîte de réception. Voici une marche à suivre (sous Gmail) pour vous aider à faire de même.

1. activez la nouvelle boîte de réception

Screenshot%206/28/13%2021:02

La nouvelle boîte de réception va trier pour vous vos e-mails, séparant les pubs, les messages provenant des réseaux sociaux, les mailing-listes, et les alertes automatiques.

Screenshot%206/28/13%2020:14

Ce qui est très sympa avec cette nouvelle boîte de réception c’est que le compte des mails à traiter n’inclut pas ceux des colonnes secondaires. Gmail vous indique en tête de colonne qu’il y a des nouveaux mails, mais dès que vous allez regarder, le compte disparaît. Gmail trie vos mails de façon à ce que ceux que vous avez besoin de traiter se trouvent dans la boîte principale. Tous les autres, c’est “pour info”.

2. créez des filtres

Si un e-mail n’est pas à sa place (en particulier s’il est dans votre boîte primaire alors qu’il ne devrait pas y être), déplacez-le sous l’onglet approprié. Gmail vous propose immédiatement de filtrer ainsi les autres mails de ce correspondant.

Des fois, c’est plus compliqué. Beaucoup de gens envoient des “newsletter” sauvages depuis leur boîte mail normale, par exemple (au lieu d’utiliser un service comme MailChimp). Comment faire le tri entre leurs mails-newsletters collectifs et les mails qui nous sont destinés?

Deux schémas courants:

  • la personne adresse l’e-mail-newsletter à elle-même, avec tout le monde en copie cachée
  • la personne n’adresse l’e-mail directement à personne, juste avec des copies cachées

Deux solutions:

  • le premier cas est simple: on spécifie dans le filtre que ce sont les e-mails de cette personne à elle-même qu’il faut filtrer
  • deuxième cas, un peu plus délicat: on peut indiquer qu’on filtre les e-mails de cette personne qui ne nous sont pas adressés.

Screenshot%206/28/13%2021:09

On peut demander à Gmail de faire passer un mail directement à l’archivage (sans passer par la boîte de réception), lui appliquer un label, ou le rediriger dans une des colonnes de la nouvelle boîte de réception.

Screenshot%206/28/13%2021:14

Où commencer? Avec votre boîte de réception principale. Commencez en haut, et à chaque fois que vous rencontrez un mail qui devrait en fait aller dans une autre colonne ou bien carrément passer direct à l’archivage, faites un filtre pour lui.

Screenshot%206/28/13%2020:22

3. archivez sans classer

Une grande part du stress de l’e-mail provient de cette boîte de réception sans fond, qu’on ne vide jamais, qui se remplit sans cesse, qui contient un mélange de choses traitées, à traiter, passées, et présentes. Si on est du genre à penser qu’il faut trier et classer ses mails, c’est encore pire: c’est une tâche sans fin.

La nouvelle inbox de Gmail ainsi que les filtres permettent d’en ralentir le remplissage. Il faut maintenant prendre soin du vidage.

La boîte de réception ne devrait contenir que deux types de mails:

  • les mails qu’on n’a pas encore regardés, et qui sont peut-être à traiter
  • les mails ouverts auxquels on n’a pas encore répondu ou sur lesquels on doit agir (= à traiter)

On ne voit donc dans sa boîte de réception que des chose qui requièrent une action de notre part. Il est complètement inutile de laisser trainer dans sa boîte de réception des vieilleries dépassées, des mails informatifs déjà lus, des e-mails auxquels on a déjà répondus.

Si on travaille sur un bureau, on garde la surface de la table relativement libre pour les affaire courantes. Le reste, ça va dans les tiroirs ou les armoires.

Il y a toutes les chances que les mails plus vieux que quelques semaines aient “disparu” de votre champ de vision. Soyons honnêtes, vous n’allez pas les traiter, sauf si on vous relance (= un nouveau mail) ou si vous y pensez à cause d’un événement extérieur. Ils n’ont donc plus rien à faire dans votre boîte de réception. Il faut donc les archiver, mais non les trier (si vous devez remettre la main dessus, une recherche sera bien plus efficace que de longues fouilles dans un système de libellés ou de dossiers bien trop complexe).

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Sélectionnez tous les messages plus vieux qu’une certaine date, et appuyez sur le bouton Archiver.

Pour ceux qui restent, sélectionnez tous les messages de la page, puis déselectionnez sélectivement (Cmd/Ctrl+clic) ceux qui doivent rester dans votre boîte de réception car vous devez encore les traiter. Archivez.

4. archivez sans merci au quotidien

Quand vous ouvrez votre inbox, la première chose à faire est de régler leur sort aux nouveaux mails: les déplacer dans les autres colonnes si c’est là qu’ils appartiennent, créer un filtre s’il y a lieu, y jeter un oeil.

  • Si une fois le mail lu il n’y a plus rien à faire, archivez-le immédiatement.
  • S’il demande une réponse courte et simple, répondez immédiatement.
  • Envoyez toujours vos mails à l’aide du bouton “Envoyer + Archiver” — une fois que vous avez répondu à un mail, c’est à votre interlocuteur de jouer, il n’a donc plus aucune raison d’encombrer encore votre champ de vision quand vous ouvrez votre boîte mail.

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Encore une fois: ne perdez pas de temps à classer vos mails. Vous les retrouverez suffisamment facilement grâce à la recherche. Et avec le temps économisé en classement, vous pouvez vous permettre de perdre de temps à autre une dizaine de minutes pour retrouver un e-mail bien caché.

De temps en temps, faites inbox zero: traitez tout ce qui reste à traiter dans votre boîte de réception, et reportez sur votre liste de tâche les e-mails qui résistent. Quant aux colonnes “secondaires”, il suffit de temps en temps de tout sélectionner et d’archiver, car vous aurez déplacé dans la boîte principale les éventuels mails demandant de l’attention de votre part au fur et à mesure.

5. et les libellés?

Les libellés peuvent être utiles si vous devez grouper des e-mails qui ne sont pas faciles à regrouper grâce à une recherche. Par exemple, tous les mails concernant le projet X. Mais attention: si les mails de votre projet X contiennent systématiquement certains mots-clés (=> recherche facile) ou proviennent toujours des deux mêmes interlocuteurs (recherche facile aussi), ne vous fatiguez pas à les libeller!

Associés aux filtres, les libellés permettent aussi de classer automatiquement certains types d’e-mails pour pouvoir faire des recherches parmi eux facilement.

Plus utile (et toujours avec les filtres), ils aident à rendre visibles certains e-mails dès leur arrivée. On peut donner une couleur de fond à un libellé, et donc “marquer” les e-mails d’un client important, ou qui nécessitent d’être particulièrement réactif.

De façon générale: utilisez peu de libellés, et triez très peu à la main.

Votre boîte mail vous fait-elle étouffer? Cette méthode vous est-elle utile? Faites-vous autrement pour éviter de vous sentir dépassé par votre courrier électronique?

3e #back2blog challenge (5/10), avec: Brigitte Djajasasmita (@bibiweb), Baudouin Van Humbeeck (@somebaudy), Mlle Cassis (@mlle_cassis), Luca Palli (@lpalli), Yann Kerveno (@justaboutvelo), Annemarie Fuschetto (@libellula_free), Ewan Spence (@ewan), Kantu (@kantutita), Jean-François Genoud (@jfgpro), Michelle Carrupt (@cmic), Sally O’Brien (@swissingaround), Adam Tinworth (@adders), Mathieu Laferrière (@mlaferriere), Graham Holliday (@noodlepie), Denis Dogvopoliy (@dennydov), Christine Cavalier (@purplecar), Emmanuel Clément (@emmanuelc), Xavier Bertschy (@xavier83). Follow #back2blog.

Social Tools Allow Ridiculously Easy Group-Forming [en]

More notes and related thoughts to my reading of Clay Shirky’s book Here Comes Everybody (chapter 2).

Both markets and organisations imply costs (transaction costs in large groups, labour required to maintain organisation). There are activities which simply don’t happen, because their cost is higher than their potential value both for markets and organisations. This is where social tools step in: they lower the cost of coordinating group action, and allow new forms of activities to appear.

Stuff that we find normal in 2013: if you stage a public event, photos of it will most certainly be made publicly available (through Flickr and the like) even if you do not hire a professional photographer or mandate people to collect photos. The social tool provides a cheap way for any person taking photos of the event for their personal satisfaction to add them to a public pool that anybody can draw from, through spontaneous tagging.

Under the Coasean floor: activities that are valuable to somebody but too expensive to be taken on in an institutional way, like aggregating amateur documentation of the London transit bombings. People have always had the desire to share, and the obstacles to sharing are now gone, so it happens.

When transaction costs are high, hierarchical organisations are the least bad solution for group action. If transaction costs drop a little, large organisations can afford to become larger, and small organisations appear where there were none, because they are now “cheap enough” to put in place. But when tools arrive which make transaction costs plummet, all kinds of group action which were impossible before are now happening outside of traditional organisations, in loosely structured groups, without managerial direction or profit motive.

Group undertakings: sharing, cooperation, collective action — by order of increasing difficulty.

Cooperation is more demanding than sharing because it requires changing one’s behaviour to synchronise with others (who are also doing the same thing). Conversation is an example. This makes me think of something I wanted to say about Facebook groups: groups where all that happens is people “sharing” stuff don’t take off. Sharing doesn’t really create a sense of community like conversation does. So if one wants a community of people, one must encourage conversation, which is more difficult to achieve than simple sharing. Collaborative production (cf. wikipedia, a potluck dinner, a barn raising) is another form of cooperation, more involved than conversation.

Collective action goes a step further, ambitioning to change something in the world, creating shared responsibility by tying the group and individual identities together. Action is taken “in the name of”. This comes with a share of governance issues, especially the larger the group. The shared vision of the group needs to be strong enough to keep the group together despite the tensions arising from individual disagreement on specific decisions.

Seb Paquet: ridiculously easy group-forming. This reminds me of an O’Reilly book that I read during my year in India (I read a number of O’Reilly books there, purchased in Indian editions and therefore compatible with my student’s budget): Practical Internet Groupware. It was an eye-opener, and much of the stuff in there is still true nearly 15 years later.

Says Clay Shirky (quoting!):

Ridiculously easy group-forming matters because the desire to be part of a group that shares, cooperates, or acts in concert is a basic human instinct that has always been constrained by transaction costs. Now that group-forming has gone from hard to ridiculously easy, we are seeing an explosion of experiments with new groups and new kinds of groups.

La pile de livres aspirationnelle: se construire un champ des possibles [fr]

[en] About the aspirational pile of books that I brought to the chalet with me.

Note: comme la plupart des billets que je publie ces jours, celui-ci a été écrit hors ligne durant ma petite retraite à la montagne.

Je suis au chalet, avec deux chats et une pile de livres, de quoi lire pendant probablement un mois. Une bonne douzaine. OK, un mois en ne faisant que lire.

J’en suis au premier bouquin que j’ai pris sur la pile. Entre-temps, j’ai quand même passé une demi-journée à trier/organiser mes photos (j’ai pris mon disque dur externe exprès) et je suis maintenant en train de rédiger mon 7e (septième!) article pour Climb to the Stars en quelques heures.

Pourquoi diable monter tant de livres pour quelques jours seulement? Je me suis posé la question. Je me la suis d’autant plus posé qu’on a abordé récemment avec Evren la question de la pile aspirationnelle de “choses à lire plus tard”. Je ne me leurre pas: cette pile de livres est totalement aspirationnelle.

Précisons tout de même que j’ai loué une voiture pour ma petite retraite à la montagne, ce qui me permet de ne pas trop me soucier du poids excédentaire de mes aspirations.

En fait, ce à quoi j’aspire, avec cette pile de livres, mon ordi plein de photos à trier, et mes doigts pleins d’articles à taper, c’est aussi le choix, le possible. Je veux être ici au chalet avec le choix de mes lectures, et non pas limitée et contrainte par un choix fait avant de venir.

Alors j’amène plus de livres que je ne peux lire. J’élargis un peu le choix. Je me laisse la liberté de suivre mon humeur. De butiner. C’est ce que je cherche un peu, ici loin de tout.

Chez moi, c’est un peu la même chose. Il y a dans ma bibliothèque plein de livres que je n’ai pas vus. Dans ma DVD-thèque (oui, encore, je sais) plein de films et de séries à regarder encore. Dans mon étagère vitrée, une bonne trentaine de thés.

Je veux être dans un contexte où j’ai le choix. Je peux sur un coup de tête lire ceci ou cela. Les habits et les chaussures, c’est sans doute la même chose — et les réserves dans le garde-manger.

Mais si on a lu The Paradox of Choice, on sait que cette liberté, ce choix ouvert auquel on aspire, eh bien il peut aussi être contre-productif. A trop devoir choisir on se fatigue. Trop de possibilités, ça angoisse.

On n’utilise qu’une petite partie des choix à notre disposition, et le reste pèse sur notre conscience. Ça me fait penser à cette étude où l’on demandait aux gens de planifier leurs menus sur un mois, et on comparait ensuite avec ce qu’ils mangeaient réellement. Pas trop de surprise: les menus “réels” étaient bien plus répétitifs que les menus théoriques. On croit qu’on va vouloir de la variété, mais en réalité, on aime aussi la répétition.

L’autre chose à laquelle ça me fait penser, cette histoire de pile aspirationnelle, c’est la bibliothèque d’Umberto Eco, dont il est question si ma mémoire ne me fait pas défaut dans “A Perfect Mess“, le parfait livre-compagnon à The Paradox of Choice cité plus haut. (Si c’est pas dans A Perfect Mess, c’est peut-être dans The Black Swan, autre livre indispensable.)

La bibliothèque la plus intéressante, c’est celle qui regorge de livres encore-non-lus. C’est elle qui contient peut-être le livre qui va bouleverser notre vie, mais qu’on n’a pas encore lu. (Plus j’y pense, plus il me semble que ça vient de The Black Swan, ce que je raconte.) Le potentiel pour le changement radical réside dans ce que l’on ne connaît pas encore.

Bon, ça rime à quoi, tout ça? Dans cette pile aspirationnelle, il y a plusieurs niveaux:

  • on aspire à un état où l’on aurait lu tout ça
  • on aspire à une liberté de choix qui, poussée à l’extrême, serait paralysante
  • on aspire à une vie où on aurait le temps de lire tout ça (le livre comme métaphore du temps de libre — même si on sait qu’on se prive activement d’avoir le temps de faire tout ce qu’on ferait si seulement on avait plus de temps)

En résumé: quatre jours au chalet, ce n’est pas assez!

Au chalet: une vie simple et propice à l'écriture [fr]

[en] Life slows down at the chalet. Fewer options to fill my days. Lots of reading, lots of writing. Hence the flood of blog posts.

Autour du chalet, photo calendrier

Quelques jours au chalet. De la lecture, du triage de photos, de la cuisine, et de l’écriture. Hors ligne, j’ai pondu une bonne dizaine d’articles pour Climb to the Stars. Il faudra rajouter des liens (mais j’ai déjà préparé le terrain en insérant d’emblée les liens mais en mettant “article sur x ou y” à la place de l’URL), certes, mais c’est écrit. Il va juste falloir que je décide comment et à quel rythme les publier.

Est-ce parce que je suis hors ligne? Pas certaine que ce soit la raison principale. En fait, au chalet, ma vie est plus simple. J’avais déjà fait ce constat en Inde (quand je suis ailleurs qu’à Pune).

Ici, je n’ai pas de vie sociale, pas de travail à accomplir, pas de compta à faire. Il n’y a pas de télé, pas d’internet, je n’écoute pas de musique ou de podcasts. J’ai juste à m’occuper des chats et de moi, me faire à manger (les courses c’est déjà fait), et voilà. Je n’ai même pas à réfléchir aux jours qui viennent, après ma petite retraite, car je suis ici dans une parenthèse hors du temps.

Je me suis créé un contexte où mettre des priorités est ridiculement simple, et où il y a très peu de décisions à prendre (quoi lire? quoi écrire? quelles photos trier?). On pense aux auteurs qui s’exilent quelque part pour finir d’écrire.

Je m’endors à 21h et je suis réveillée par les chats à 5h30, après plus de 8h de sommeil. Impensable à la maison, avec les possibilités infinies du monde dans lequel je baigne.

Cet état, je le retrouve également lorsque je navigue. Sur un bateau, il n’y a pas grand-chose à faire (à part naviguer bien sûr, ce qui n’est pas rien!) Vivre ainsi est extrêmement reposant, mais j’ai conscience que ce n’est possible que parce que c’est une parenthèse, justement.

Ça me fait penser à mon année en Inde, qui s’éloigne à grands pas dans les brumes du passé. Après six mois environ, je m’étais reconstruite une vie aussi complexe que celle que j’avais laissée derrière moi en Suisse. J’avais des activités, une vie sociale, des projets. Je procrastinais, mon emploi du temps me stressais, je n’avais “pas assez de temps” (en Inde, vous imaginez!), bref, j’ai bien compris que le problème, c’était moi.

Durant ces parenthèses que je m’offre quelques fois par année, je me demande comment je pourrais simplifier ma vie “normale” — et si c’est possible. J’aime avoir des projets. Je m’intéresse à un tas de choses, trop, même. C’est une force qui me tire en avant, qui est extrêmement positive, mais dont je finis par devenir un peu la victime.

Bien entendu, je gère la complexité de ma vie bien mieux maintenant, à l’approche de la quarantaine, que lorsque j’avais à peine vingt ans. Je me connais mieux, je comprends mieux comment fonctionnent les gens et le monde, j’ai mis en place des systèmes et des stratégies pour éviter de me faire trop déborder, ou pour mieux supporter lorsque je le suis. Ça ne va pas tout seul, ce n’est pas forcément facile, mais dans l’ensemble, je n’ai pas trop à me plaindre.

Alors, faut-il simplifier? Simplifier, ça veut dire faire moins, pour moi, et possiblement, vouloir moins. J’ai récemment mis fin à une activité importante dans ma vie, parce que j’avais pris conscience que c’était juste logistiquement impossible pour moi d’y rester engagée “correctement” vu mon train de vie. Ça a été une décision extrêmement douloureuse qui a mis plus d’un an à mûrir, j’ai versé quantité de larmes et j’en verserai probablement encore, mais maintenant que c’est derrière je suis extrêmement soulagée. Allégée. Mon emploi du temps est un peu moins ingérable, je peux me consacrer mieux à ce que j’ai décidé de garder (et qui était encore plus important pour moi que ce à quoi j’ai renoncé), et j’ai aussi appris que je pouvais “lâcher”, même si ça me coûtait. FOMO et tout ça.

D’expérience, l’espace que je crée dans ma vie en “simplifiant” se remplit toujours assez vite. C’est si facile de dire “oui”! Pour simplifier vraiment, je crois qu’il faut vouloir moins. Difficile.

En attendant, je vais continuer à préserver ces “pauses”. J’en ai en plaine, aussi, mine de rien: je protège assez bien mes week-ends et mes soirées de ma vie professionnelle, par exemple. Mais ma vie personnelle est aussi parfois une source de stress, étonnamment. Et on sait que même avec plus de temps à disposition, ce n’est pas dit que l’on fasse enfin toutes ces choses auxquelles on a renoncé “par manque de temps“.

Mon article tourne un peu en rond, désolée. On en revient toujours au même: la compétence clé, pour moi du moins, c’est la capacité à hiérarchiser, à faire des choix et mettre des priorités. Et là-derrière se cache quelque chose qui est probablement encore plus que ça le travail d’une vie: faire les deuils des désirs que l’on ne poursuivra pas.

Je crois que je vais arrêter là ;-), quand j’ai commencé à écrire je voulais juste vous dire à quel point j’avais pondu une grosse pile d’articles pendant que j’étais ici!