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Friday, January 12, 2018

On Halftime: Moving From Success to Significance

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If you've read any of my recent and fleeting posts here, you will know that professionally I'm doing quite well. Everything is humming along better than it ever has. What you are less likely to know is that personally, I've hit a bit of a rough patch. Nothing too close to home, my immediate family is great, everyone is happy and healthy. However just beyond my immediate family circle lies my difficult relationship with my father, and a host of surreal circumstances and recent experiences that most find hard to believe.

I'll withhold the exact details but it was in the middle of these extraordinary experiences that I met Claude -- a chocolatier -- in an airport bar, waylaid after a work trip to Whitehorse and Banff, and after completing a difficult and unplanned stop in Saskatoon. Claude sat down next to me and made a joke about wanting to order breakfast for dinner and I encouraged him to go for it. Next thing you know we got to talking about life, parenting, family, and what brought each of us to Saskatoon. Whether or not he knew it at the time our conversation was precisely what I needed in that moment and the selfless tenderness he showed me when I needed it most was almost overwhelming.

Its one of those conversation that simply sticks with you.

Over the course of our conversation he recommended a book written by Bob Buford entitled Halftime: Moving from Success to Significance I made a mental note of the title, gave Claude a business card, paid for his breakfast as a gesture of good faith, and thanked him deeply for his kindness.

At its core the book is about the midpoint in your career (i.e. halftime) and the transition people make from the first half of their career where they focus on finding success to the second half where they focus on finding significance. Now, while the book is dated and decidedly Christian (and I am neither), it does however provide a useful frame of reference and focus attention on what I would consider a natural pivot point for most career professionals.

Upon reading and reflecting on the book, I would assert that I am very much coming into my own halftime, and discovering the nature of the substance thatI want the second half of my career to be about. Its more of a process of discovery rather than a cleanly delineated break. The book uses the metaphor of overlapping waves, which I think is apt. Buford reduces the search for second half substance to a seemingly simple question: 'what's in your box?'. What's that all encompassing thing that will guide all of your activities in the second half of your career / life. For Buford it was religion and he dedicated the second half of his life to his.

I'm leaning towards, 'For Queen, Country, and a smashing good time' but I'm still in discovery mode. That said, I'm learning a lot about myself through the process. For example, I've learned that while there was merit in building an experience base by 'following the work' there also comes a time where much more can be gained by transitioning to a more actively managed my career trajectory, that one can credibly ask for specific opportunities, and that there is an inalienable value to bringing not only enthusiasm and a different way of thinking to a given problem, but also the body of knowledge and experience (gained by 'following the work') that makes them invaluable.

I'm learning that what motivates me is evolving and changing, but also that I still enjoy sitting down, thinking through a problem set, and taking the time to write those thoughts down and share them with others.

Friday, December 1, 2017

Simple Thoughts On Policy Complexity

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Yes, the world is complex.

Pursuing a given public policy objective (i.e. an outcome) brings that complexity into view; and bringing that view into focus, by gathering information and weighing evidence and opinion, means drawing boundaries around the issue(s) in imperfect ways.

This imprecision has real world consequences. Draw the boundaries too wide and it can produce paralysis by analysis, draw them too narrow and you can end up with governance by gut feeling. Neither of which are ideal, and both can have profoundly negative consequences.

Complexity is really about spillover from one policy domain to another. Determining a logical order or hierarchy isn't always possible because none of the issues can be isolated from those that are adjacent. This complexity is further complicated by the fact that spillover is both omni-present and omni-directional and in a constant state of flux.

This leads me to conclude that the crux of the challenge facing policy makers is calibration; it's about knowing who and what to include and, where where to draw the lines, understanding the inherent consequences and trade-offs, and being willing to accept them.

When trying to solve for especially pernicious problems this becomes exponentially harder because the conventional wisdom is that their solutions lie in the innovation of the adjacent possible (i.e. somewhere in the messy spillover). The same conventional wisdom argues that you ought to spend 95% of your time defining the problem and 5% solving it. That means not only are you actively pursuing work in the messier parts of the problem set you are also spending the bulk of you time calibrating and re-calibrating within it as the landscape continues to shift around you.

I guess its not so so simple after all.

Friday, November 10, 2017

Actively cultivating a patient appreciation for the richness of experience

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As I mentioned previously, my interests have shifted (See: On Professional Maturation). In sum, I have been thinking about life differently than I have in the past. If I had to describe the feeling, I would say it was something akin to a patient appreciation for the richness of experience.

I can’t pinpoint the source of the feeling but it’s starting to permeate through every facet of my life. The best way to describe it is to borrow an explanation from Angela Duckworth, who wrote a book entitled Grit about perseverance, which I currently reading. I did however catch her on Freakonomics Podcast over the summer, and her explanation – the one I want to pull from – struck me.

She spoke about the need for novelty in one’s life; how it is natural to seek out new experiences but acting on that need too often can have negative consequences. Pursuing novel work for example, through a series of lateral moves comes at the cost of depth in a particular field and produces generalists.

The trick, according to Duckworth is being able to satisfy your need for novelty by pursuing the nuance in your field. The best way to do this is to look at everything in your known universe and break it down into its smallest component parts, pick one, and focus on maximizing your understanding, appreciation, or performance of or within that particular subset. This approach simultaneously satisfies your need for novelty but also increases your mastery of your given domain.

I find Duckworth’s logic compelling and I think it applies more broadly. Not only to my work but also in my personal interactions with others and in how I use the internet. I’ve committed mentally to working in my current field for the foreseeable future, I’m pursuing more meaningful relationships with others, and I’m far less interested in what's popular online. In so doing, what I’m finding is that not only do I have a patient appreciation for the richness of experience, but that I enjoy actively cultivating it.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Tax policy and open government

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The Government of Canada has proposed changes to the tax framework, which has struck a wide variety of nerves. Moving swiftly past any discussion of that policy proposal itself, it provides a solid example of the environment in which government works today. I still get interest in explanations of what the idea of open government actually means, and this lets us move from the abstract to the practical.

It’s worth noting that while this public debate has emerged recently, the proposal comes from the 2017 federal budget, including some of the tax strategies the government was examining. Any policy discussion exists in the context of the government’s agenda, which shows up in party platforms, budgets, and the Speech from the Throne. And that agenda, of course, came from somewhere in turn: long-standing party positions, industry lobbying, think tank research, government advice, concerns of MPs’ constituents, international agreements, etc. There’s a complex ecosystem of inputs.

The Department of Finance started inviting comments on July 18. Far from the lightweight budget consultations of years past (essentially a webform and the question “What should the government prioritize?”), they posted a brobdingnagian backgrounder with rationale, data, and their calculations. If they posted the raw datasets, I couldn’t find them; the open government ideal would be linking to the same data that government analysts are using (i.e., on Economists, researchers, developers and transparency advocates have long been scraping or copy and pasting information from government websites, which is a barrier to use.

Finance has asked that people read the 27,000+ word backgrounder and provide written comments. There are design decisions baked into this.

One, it’s an email inbox, not an online discussion forum. The written comments aren’t automatically publicly visible, and organizations can consent to publishing or stay mum for privacy.

Two, while the consultation and backgrounder is public, their target audience is clearly a limited group of experts, academics, and businesses (most likely industry organizations that are funded and mandated to analyze and respond to such proposals). The most visible government consultations in recent years have been questions like Ontario Budget Talks, federal electoral reform, or the Innovation Agenda. Those are geared towards broad audiences. However, most government consultations, running quietly for decades under the radar, are closer to this Finance example. The standard has been that government posts an analysis or a draft regulatory change and asks a small community of experts for detailed comments (e.g., on wildlife management strategies or chemical allowances in products). Anyone could respond. But most wouldn't have any fun doing so.

There’s no right or wrong on these two items, just different approaches for different contexts. Making every comment publicly visible can be disenfranchising to many would-be participants. And governments should (generally) design and promote for their actual target audience of stakeholders.

For most people, including many small business owners, their engagement with this consultation will not be in reading the backgrounder and commenting. Instead, they’ll read analyses, op-eds, and updates in the media. Others may contact their MP with their concerns. Others will continue to pay dues to lobbying organizations to do this work on their behalf and trust that their views are represented. This reality will be true of most examples of “open government;” most engagement is through “info-mediaries” rather than direct contact.

The next important feature: government can strategize and plan for the public reaction, but once in the wild, it’s to a large degree out of government’s control. There has been a flurry of media articles written since July 18, taking many different tacks (e.g., that it’s unfair and disincentivizing to doctors specifically) (again, no value judgment here).

For the potential value for government, let’s use Dr. Kevin Milligan as an example. The start of his Twitter thread on the proposal is probably the most-liked tweet ever that starts with “I’ve made spreadsheets…”

Milligan, an Economics professor at UBC, reworked and re-calculated a lot of the data from Finance (and, admirably, posted his work and spreadsheets publicly for government officials or other observers to review). His analysis supports much of Finance’s work, calls some parts into question, but definitely adds value. This is the entire point of of open government and open data: recognizing that expertise exists outside government’s walls and creating ways to work it into public decision-making. Milligan’s analysis, alongside a number of other prominent Canadian economists who contribute actively to public debate, turned into blogs or columns in print and online media. That community, plus pundits and other observers, also debated parts of the proposal and each other’s analyses in short form on Twitter.

The email inbox is still central - Milligan encouraged people to write into it - but it’s one of many ways that people will try to influence the decision, even during a formal consultation with an “official” avenue for input.

Milligan’s work (here’s his blog post) is not far off what we’d trendily call “civic tech” (admittedly it’s relatively low-tech civic tech)*. The more common examples are people creating tech platforms for others to find and understand data and information (e.g., or But the point isn’t the platform, it’s the analysis and the value in the context of a public decision. So Milligan’s analysis and spreadsheets meet that goal and that description for me.

Lastly on the timeline, there’s one big step left: the government will decide what it wants to do in Cabinet. The proposal as originally written by Finance will almost certainly still be the starting point, but the public reaction and expert comments will change or at least flavour that. While the final advice to Cabinet and the discussion is held in confidence, Access to Information laws, modern government communications, public engagement, and social media make that a more limited concept than it was in the past. The black box is getting smaller and smaller. But the point remains: even if the elected government talks to everyone about a proposed policy, it’s still on them to make the decision and to be held accountable for it. And they do this out of the public eye, by design.

So having walked through the example, what’s left? A couple closing thoughts:

One, a common theme is that as open government and telecommunications technology make the world horizontal and connected, government policy analysts will be less subject matter experts and more facilitators and convenors of stakeholders and external experts. I think this take is wrong, and Finance provides the counterexample. They started with a 27,000-word backgrounder, and I’d bet that there’s a much longer version behind it. They need to be able to understand, fact-check, and contextualize technical input from experts. They need to know if Milligan’s numbers are right or wrong when they lead to game-changing conclusions. So I’d actually propose that government analysts have to be better than they’ve ever been to navigate the modern governance environment.

Two, open government can’t be about changing governance models. How government does things always has to serve the things government needs to do. Open government is better found, in the long run, in the nuts and bolts of government policies and programs. In this case, in the data, principles, and analysis behind tax policy.

Friday, September 1, 2017

Alignment and Competition

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“Let’s set up a meeting to make sure our initiatives are aligned and we’re not duplicating effort.”

I have become wary of this line. On the surface, I couldn’t agree more. We want our time to be well spent. The phrase taps into my human aversion to waste, but like everything else, it can be taken too far.

First off, duplication is sometimes necessary. In a sense it’s impossible to replace an existing system without duplicating it. As we build digital services for citizens, we are duplicating the existing ones. Introducing digital services may not be controversial but what if the existing system is trying to slowly digitize itself? How do we decide if it’s worthwhile trying something new rather than invest more in the improvement efforts?

In a lot of cases there is no clear answer and rather than investing in the new idea, we align ourselves with the existing initiative to avoid duplication. This could be contributing to how long it is taking governments to built digital-first services.

When developing new services we also have a choice to make about what tools or approaches to use. Sometimes a single team has the resources and expertise to try out several options instead of picking just one, but what happens when it’s two different teams each with their own idea? We seem to have very little tolerance for allowing both teams to continue even if it’s unclear which idea is more promising.

In this scenario, instead of waiting to see what we learn from each team, we tend to ask one of them to stop. I’ve seen several promising initiatives shut down this way. The project team eventually met with a group who had more authority and who felt their own project would be doing the same thing. “Why would we create two solutions to the same problem?”

These tendencies to stop others from trying different approaches to solving the same problem are what I am pushing back against. We need to be investing in a variety of approaches because they can all teach us something. Sometimes the alternative projects will result in better services, sometimes in wasted effort but if done properly we will always learn.

Unfortunately multiple groups tackling the same problem means there will be competition between ideas, projects and even the people who want to see their own approach succeed. But there are benefits to competition as well! We’ve come to accept that it is a net positive and helps drive innovation In the private sector and just because there is some competition between groups, it doesn’t mean we need to have winners and losers vying for space in government.

Rather than aligning on execution we can align our goals. Through collaboration we can ensure each project takes a unique approach so it will generate unique insights. Information sharing at all stages will be key, we need to experiment and learn as a whole. The hard part will be for everyone to come together once individual projects have been tested, but it can be done.

I’ve had some success with this approach. 

When collaborating to build a micro-tasking platform for the federal government, my team took a conscious step back from the working group. We knew we could rapidly deploy something in our organisation and felt the group could learn more from us building an advanced prototype than if we participated in the same way as everyone else.

We kept in touch, we built in the open and challenged our colleagues to make something better. This was deliberately duplicative but we got to benefit from our prototype quickly and were able share our work and insights back with the group. A year later when the working group had their solution in place, it had many of the features we had designed. At this point we shut our prototype down so our users would join the superior platform and benefit from the broader community that had access to it.

The strength and weakness of this approach are the same to me: we are working with humans. On one side, a little competition and a strong sense of ownership are both extremely motivating. Trying out a few different ideas in earnest can also help when our intuitions are wrong. On the downside, competition is uncomfortable. If people feel like “it’s us or them” they could stop sharing openly and even create barriers for others. As a believer in human awesomeness, I think these downsides can be managed by aligning our goals (not our approaches) and collaborating openly within our organisations. To get us started though, we will need to become comfortable with the idea that attacking a problem from multiple angles is an acceptable form of duplication.

Friday, August 25, 2017

On Professional Maturation

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Apologies in advance for another long meander through my psyche. I've been struggling with these ideas for some time now and have yet to come to ground with precisely how to frame them. What follows is more personal philosophy and storytelling than lessons public service.

First, life's good.

I love my job. I've never felt more supported, appreciated, important, challenged, trusted, respected, and fulfilled in my public service career than I do now. It's equal parts roles and responsibilities, colleagues, and the ability to play to my strengths while leaving ample room to grow. I'm not sure I've ever been able to say that as earnestly as I can right now, and that's pretty awesome. I'm working with two cracker jack teams on two hot files and my days are full to the brim and just as rewarding.

The flip side of loving one's job of course is that one loses the sense of outrage at all of the parts of the bureaucracy that one would normally find offensive. As someone who primarily identifies with archetypal characters who buck the system (i.e. tricksters) this feels a lot like 'losing your edge' or -- as I've put it previously -- gentrifying (See: The Gentrification of #w2p). For a long time the idea of gentrifying to me felt like betrayal. As a self-stylized perpetual underdog, it's been a slow and difficult progression away from that mindset, but despite popular belief, maturing is never easy.

Relatedly, one of the most interesting pieces of advice I've ever received was from an executive who said "the one gift I really wish I could give you but can't is the gift of experience". The irony of course being that that advice would become increasingly salient over time and with experience. It means more to me now that it did then, and I appreciate it more now in hindsight. In all honestly, at the time I took it as validation of what I had already learned (i.e. I'm ready for more responsibility, bring it on!) rather than a confirmation of how much more I had to learn and how much better I could be at what I do.

What I think I'm learning about what I will call professional maturation is that -- for me at least -- it is about being less reflexive and more reflective. While one may think this understanding comes naturally, one's reflexes are their strengths honed over time through repetitious positive reinforcement. Reflexes are always at play and feature more prominently in stressful situations. If you're like me and on balance you feel as though your reflexes have served you well and are prone to throwing yourself into high stress files, its even harder to step away from them.

That said, if being reflexive and being reflective were on opposite sides of a continuum than what I've been doing is trying to increase the distance between them. This requires one to understand the nuance that reflexes are there to fall back on but that one should lead with reflection.

In practice this means digging in more, reading more closely, asking more poignant questions, being more methodical, writing notes and lists, verifying that everything has been covered off that you wanted to cover. Some people do this more naturally than others, others (like me) have to work at it more.

Second, my interests are shifting.

I'm still interested in the confluence of people, public policy, and technology but I'm investing my time differently than I used to. I used to spend a lot of my free time trying to learn about what new (shiny!) thing was coming around the corner and how it would eventually impact the business of the public service. This has generated a lot of interesting lines of thought that I've shared over the years on this blog. That said, I'm growing increasingly tired of the meta-narratives around engagement, openness, and innovation that underpin them, so I'm less inclined to feed them with greater reflection. It's not to say that meta-narratives don't have value, only that they no longer pique my intellectual curiosity in the way that they once did. Another aspect of professional maturation seems to be shifting away from simply holding strong views to a model of strong views weakly held.

There's a number of reasons why my interests have shifted, but one of the most predominant is that while these narratives all share the same roots, they've all branched out into their own unique paths. There are now simply too many players and viewpoints to put one's arms around in any meaningful way (See: The Many Challenges of Convening the Policy Innovation and Experimentation Ecosystem). When there were fewer networks, nodes, and information flows it meant that certain voices were amplified and one could reasonably expect to know who most of the key players were. Moreover, information networks have grown in number and been flooded with users, making keeping up simply impossible. Another likely reason is that my work has taken me to the coalface of the innovation discourse/implementation disconnect enough times to temper my enthusiasm for meta-narratives (See: The Innovation Discourse Disconnect). A couple of recent lessons here include the importance of not being a tax on the productivity of others and the perils and intellectual laziness of invoking specters of the powers that be, but I'll save those for another time.

Third, I'm (re)investing my time accordingly.

I'm pursuing a healthier lifestyle (exercising more, eating healthier, drinking less), investing more in interpersonal relationships (being more social IRL, putting my phone away when with others, retreating from social media), and reading more books (paper books, non-fiction books about things I'm interested that aren't work related). All of which takes time and energy away from engaging with and writing about the civil service.

I'm at fewer meetups, I'm writing less, but I'm still coming to work everyday and killing it for Queen and country.

 I'm just doing it a little differently.



Note that while we work as public servants this is entirely our own initiative and what we post here does not necessarily reflect the view of the government, our offices or our positions there in.

Notez bien que nous travaillons commes functionnaires, ceci est entièrement notre propre initiative et ce que nous publions sur ce site ne reflète pas nécessairement le point de vue du gouvernement, de nos organisations ou de nos postes.