When you're smiling

We had a surreal experience a couple of weeks ago. We went to the Caribbean carnival in Brooklyn. Time Out and other listings made it sound fun, and we thought it would be another loud New York experience. We had the Notting Hill carnival in London as our mental model.

Now Notting Hill is not the safest of places, and we are not daft, so we decided to visit in early afternoon towards the start of the parade route. But still we were not prepared for what met us there.

The police presence was vast, as big as anything I had ever seen anywhere. Roads were blocked off about ten blocks from the route, so we found a bright and safe place to park and set off on foot. We immediately encountered a group of NYPD, taking a sideways glance at this party of jolly white people. One guy asked if we were heading to the carnival. “Be very, very careful”, he warned. “I say this to everyone. This is one of the most dangerous events in the country.”

Our jolly white faces immediately became a bit less jolly and a bit pinker. But we walked on, past more police interspersed with rather severe looking locals, until we reached the route, where we found a popular spot combining a good view with a sense of relative safety. Safety was relative by now, and the guy next to me cheerily told me about the two shootings last year a couple of blocks from where we were.

We had some fun. The floats were colourful, the music loud and the skin plentiful. We never saw any trouble though we did see many police, on foot, in cars and passing over in helicopters. After an hour and a half we retreated down the same streets. Still, there was a deep exhalation as we reached the sanctuary of the car and much letting out of emotion on the way home. One more New York experience notched up.

Later I reflected on the carnival. There was something missing and it took me some thought to figure out what. It was joy, smiles, and laughter. Everyone seemed tense. Men hung around with men, women with women. Most discussion seemed sotta voce. There was some latent fear in the air and a distrust of the police, though from what I saw they did a good job in trying to tone down their stance. No doubt some people had a good time, and later in the day people will have let their hair down, but I missed the spontaneity and general happiness I associate with carnivals.

Of course this is hardly my cultural comfort zone, so I have to be careful with conclusions. But perhaps it would not be too surprising if that particular community struggled with joy. Police are everywhere. Few have a steady, well-paid job. Many women are bringing up children on their own. Debt is everywhere, so is prejudice. A frightening proportion of males are in jail, or ex cons, or somehow risking jail (one in three black American men will spend time in jail).

Then over the following days, I started observing others in the city more closely. I see many eyes that are desperately tired. I see eyes with some fear and resentment. I witness many people for whom anger is never far away. I see things to laugh with and smile at, but not all that many smiles or that much laughter.

Coming at things the other way around, there are certainly many reasons to live in misery in this city, even if not from a demographic that appears one step from being stopped and frisked and two from jail. Other demographics have people without papers too, or perhaps without car insurance, or with other reasons to fear what is around the corner. Debt is everywhere, and the evil finance industry capture more and more of us in their grasp. Job security is limited, and support for those losing their job pitiful. Driving on some roads is scary enough to justify a bit of anger. The news is full of shootings and rapes and muggings. I read that 80% of Britons aged fifty think they will never be able to retire, and I expect the proportion to be similar here. Living spaces are tiny, many with bed bugs or vermin issues. Some are often hungry. And those bills keep on arriving.

There is more, and a lot of it is not specific to New York. People live in physical pain, or in fear of illness, or with people in constant pain, or in fear for a loved one’s health. People are chronically lonely, or feeling inadequate or sinful, or abused in a relationship, or fearful for the future of a relationship. People work such long or strange hours that they never get enough sleep. People have jobs of real danger and their associated trauma, or jobs dealing with stressed out people. People obsessed with the supposedly happy lives of Facebook friends or celebrities, which they ram down their own throats all the time. People hate their own bodies and fear what others are saying and thinking. People have hang-ups about sex and sexuality. People are trying all the time to be the cool person they are not and live in fear of exposure and shame. People live with the shame of an addiction, or hide the shame they see in a loved one. People live with the guilt and helplessness of broken or breaking relationships with their own kids or parents. People live in daily fear of local gangs.

You know, I think this covers most of us, of most ages and in most places. I’ve been in one or more of these categories for most of my life. Have you? And most of these are deep anxieties. True, they don’t stop us smiling or having some fun, but they are always there, hurting, in our eyes, compromising even our happier times.

So when we learn that the perpetrator of this week’s US shooting had some history of minor mental illness, should we be surprised? Some are outraged that he retained his security clearance, but, in all honesty, it would be hard to staff the navy, or any other service, only with people with no risk. The only true outrage, as usual, is the ease of access to guns.

Was it always this bad? Some of these anxieties have become more prevalent in the modern era, such as the Facebook type issues, but others have lessened. Overall, things might be a bit better nowadays.

Indeed, I am an optimist for humanity, and some of my optimism is based on the progress in understanding our brains. Perhaps over time we can face up to more of these traumas and control more of them.

The value of progress is certainly high. Just this week I read of two new studies, both confirming hypotheses that seemed correct intuitively. One study found that happy, active people lived longer, especially if they could be creative. The second found that people in poverty and anxiety tended to make worse decisions, thereby trapping themselves in vicious cycles.

While we are waiting for brain science, what else can we do?

As usual, one remedy is getting out of denial. If we are honest about what gives us pain and fear, we can start to address the root causes. We can ask for help. In this case, being honest can also help others, as an antidote to the Facebook disease. I am sure that many people live in the belief that it is only them that is deeply unhappy, while everyone else is like the people in the movies or adverts or as they pretend on social media.

Next, we can review our own life choices. Most of the people I know who have deep peace have simple lives. They also usually have a spiritual dimension to their lives. Most of us can make some trade offs and find a simpler, happier path. Part of this can be achieved by service, helping others.

Next, we can quietly lobby in favour of societal changes that would help everyone. The sort of adversarial, nationalistic politics, economics and work structures that we live in seem designed to increase anxiety. There is another way.

Lastly, we can simply smile more. A smile is a wonderful, contagious thing. One good thing about New York is the willingness of people to engage, and I’ll try to repay this by spreading some happiness. I’ll also continue to count my many blessings, and enjoy experiences such as Caribbean carnivals, as best as I can.   

Open Plan Offices

Schumpeter, one of my heroes from the Economist, had a bit of a swipe at modern offices this week. A book has been written casting some doubt on the methods from Silicon Valley, and this clearly gains his (or her) approval. No doubt Schumpeter is one of those who prefers to work far away from others.

Which for me is the point. Context is everything. Horses for courses. Whatever works.

I used to like an open plan office, and as I became more senior and even had some influence over office design, I tried to have an open feel. But there was good open plan and bad open plan. What were the key factors for me?

Space, light and sound are always important. Everyone should have some natural light. And we should all have enough space. In practice, that might mean not being immediately overlooked, and a little space to walk around without bumping into others. Wide corridors help too. So does having the heavy furniture and large cupboards in a dedicated area, not blocking light or views. This also helps dissipate noise, as do carpets and high ceilings. Nowadays, headphones and microphones are useful as well.

One key to all this was the height of the partitions. Make them too low, and everyone overlooks everyone else. But too high and you end up with cubicles like prison cells. So I liked something about two feet higher than a desk. That way, if you were sitting down you could not see others sitting down, except maybe the tops of their heads, but you could see people standing up or walking. You had some privacy, but also lots of light, no claustrophobia, and a chance to start conversations. It helped also if there were not long rows of desks – blocks of two by two seemed to work well.

The other key was plenty of meeting rooms of all types. Informal areas by coffee machines, small rooms for ad hoc conferences of two to four, and larger rooms for bigger meetings all had a place. The small rooms could also be used to work undisturbed, take private phone calls, join phone conferences without annoying others and so on.

Most open plans fail one or more of these tests. Usually designers are more concerned about saving space than making effective workspaces. That is one reason why open plan became unpopular; it was an excuse for packing people in like sardines.

These are some good practices for open plan, but there are two other huge factors at play. One is our personal styles. The other is the type of work we will be doing.

We are all different, and our working styles differ too. I am someone who likes to do desk work in productive batches, but with frequent short breaks. I have never minded interruptions either. If I need to think, I often do it away from the desk, so I’ll take walks around the office or even outside. Finally, my physical capacity to concentrate has limits, so there are parts of the day when I’m not really productive at all.

All of these preferences favour open plan. If I am stuck in a room on my own, it actually hinders my concentration, since I have to create my own breaks and interruptions rather than just observe what is going on around me. And during the less productive periods I just get bored and frustrated. In a room of my own, my potential to help others is also wasted, since I am always happy to break for a chat or to be interrupted with a question.

That is just me. But I know people who respond badly to interruption and need a silent and consistent work environment. When they have it, some of these people can be productive for hours at a time. These folk are usually better in their own room, or at least tucked away in a quiet corner somewhere.

Then there is the type of work. How much time are people on the phone or computer? What about in private meetings? How much informal collaboration is required, and how many larger meetings? Does personal work need space, for example large designs or models? A research facility, a marketing office and a call centre should not usually look the same.

Even with all these factors, there are some universal good practices. Many relate to hierarchy. In the company I visit in Romania, most of the staff reside on a well-designed second floor, but all the bosses are on the sixth floor. The second floor is largely open plan, with some individual offices around the sides. But the sixth floor has only conference rooms and huge individual offices, guarded by secretaries.

The effect this has and the damage it causes is obvious. Many sixth floor residents have never even been to the second floor. They have no idea how their staff work, and build no sort of personal relationship. They are remote from the action and the customer. Visits to the sixth floor cause trepidation for all. The sixth floor and its residents are universally feared and despised. Decisions involving the sixth floor have to be made formally, hence slowly and often badly.

This sounds like a caricature, but you would be amazed at how often I have seen this, and how long it persists once it is there (bosses come to value their isolation and privileges). Once I became a line manager, I always wanted to be close to my team, and to experience a similar working environment to them. Was there an element of checking up on them, or worse, a sort of Ricky Gervais desire to be considered one of the lads? I don’t think so, but maybe. In any case, the genuine advantages are enormous. And on the rare occasion that my boss felt the same way and moved close to me, I always developed a more productive working relationship.

Bosses sometimes use excuses to justify status. They claim that visiting customers expect fancier surroundings, and that more private meetings are required. HR liked to try the privacy argument too. I never bought into this. Usually it is just ego at work, combined with insecurity and laziness. As for customers, I remember once visiting Tesco and Sainsbury in the UK within two weeks of each other, in the 1980’s. Tesco had a workmanlike hut near a store and a warehouse, while Sainsbury had plush central-London offices. It did not surprise me that one company marched forwards and the other backwards over the following ten years.

The Tesco story shows that office style is also a powerful leadership weapon. Leaders can make a clear statement about what they want their company to become. Frugality, less hierarchy and proximity to customers were obviously important to Tesco. Shell retail went through a brief period like that too – we were all shunted into cheap offices next to petrol stations – and I personally admired it and found it effective. Then a senior manager was fired, and it was back to business as usual instantly, with predictable consequences for customer focus and speed of decisions.

What might all this mean at a personal level? There are a few lessons.

One lesson is to work out your own preferred working style and then fight for it. You might need to experiment to discover it, and it might vary depending on the type of work you are doing. Be careful not to react against bad design or bad management but only to personal things. Then don’t get lured by ego once that fancy office is offered to you.

Next, learn about companies through their styles. This might be useful if you thinking of working for someone, do deals with them or even invest in them. Offices tell true stories.

Finally, remember the good practices, as you always have some scope, no matter what your environment. As a line manager, understand that your staff differ and try to respond. If you are arranging meetings, always try to visit the room in advance, and look out for abundant light, especially natural light. In the same way as there is rarely a good meeting with more than eight participants, there is also rarely a good meeting in a bad meeting room.     

Dual Careers - how free are we?

Today was the first day of school for our kids. We had decided to let them cycle to school this year, honouring their Dutch traditions despite the unhelpful roads and motorists of New York. But their map reading is not great, so this morning I walked along with them.

This was a pleasure. The kids were a bit nervous, though trying hard not to show it. We had robust debates about the value of cycle helmets. But it was a beautiful day for walking, school passed without major trauma, and I can reflect on another of life’s little milestones passing successfully. Later, I also walked the kids to the dentist for a check up.

The start of the day was fun too. We have house guests, who had read somewhere that Brooklyn bridge at sunrise was one of the sights of New York not to be missed. Now, sunrise was 06.32, so I volunteered to get up early and drive them, expecting little traffic at that hour.

The view was indeed spectacular. One World Trade glistened like I had never seen it do so before. I received the familiar good feeling from getting up very early. But motorway traffic was heavy even at that early hour.

Later, I read some Economist and some Guardian, both including articles bemoaning the continuing lack of women in senior positions in society. So many excuses have been made, reasons given. Sheryl Sandberg and others have offered their diagnosis and advice, often conflicting. I wondered if I might have missed something, and then made connections to the rest of my day. My wife went to work in her regular office this morning. I imagined that had been my routine as well.

The dentist would probably have been OK. It is close, the kids know where it is, they had been treated there before, and no payment was due. Still, the dentist is hardly a pleasure, and it would have been a bit hard on the kids to go alone.

The first day of school would have been another thing entirely. We could have practiced walking the route over the weekend. But it would have been quite an imposition for the kids to have to go alone this morning. Nerves would have been jangling. Some part of the hated uniform would probably have been forgotten. The lecture about cycle helmets would have been missing. But worst of all would have been the loss of insurance policy in case the day went badly. As it happens, no hugs were needed, but things could easily have gone wrong.

Then I thought of all the occasions in the last year when being at home was really helpful. It started with looking for a house and all the other labour intensive activities linked with moving location. Bank accounts, driving licenses, medical registrations, phone accounts, getting cable connected at home. Much of this is only available during office hours, and I can imagine the overall time it would have taken and the number of half days involved if both of us had been working full time.

Then there are the kid related things to add to the main one of just being there when needed. Researching schools, visiting, securing registration, negotiating classes, learning about selection processes, tutoring, progress reports, parent conferences, medical requirements, events, school uniforms, soccer practices. We were required to visit a specialist heart practice half an hours drive away (three hours by public transport) simply to confirm that the kids could do sports. If the soccer try out had been successful, that would have involved a pick up every day at 5.30pm, or subjecting a 14-year-old to a tough one-hour bus ride to add to the rest of his daily toil.

Although I think I am supportive of the right to dual careers, I am ashamed to say the scale of this had never struck me before. In my previous life, I was the one taking the early commute on the European equivalents of the Queens Brooklyn expressway to beat the traffic, and my partner was not working. I only realized the sheer scale of this commitment yesterday because I paused to think about it. Most of the time I just got it done, with pleasure. After all, I have the time, and this is a good way to use it.

I also suspect many of the people writing the articles do not really understand the full story. We all see the obvious, headline issues. Raising kids in their first years needs someone at home. Pre-school needs a good local facility and a solution for fetching and carrying and the hours outside pre-school. And it is clear that there is some sacrifice in the cliché of missing the bedtime story or the school nativity play.

But it is so much more than that, whether you have kids or not. Just managing the administration of modern life is complicated, before you add in moving house, bringing up kids, or caring for sick relatives. It can be done around work, sure, but at what cost? I can shop in peace on a weekday morning, but the crowds on a Saturday are horrible. The same with things like servicing the car.

For all the benefits of the internet and the much publicized steps forward in things like maternity leave, I realize society is most countries is still overwhelmingly geared to the former model. You had servants if you were wealthy. You lived with your parents until you married, and close to the grand parents afterwards. And one partner, usually the female stayed at home, or at the most worked part-time. This paradigm seems hopelessly out of date now, but living any other way is basically still very hard work, and usually short-changes aforesaid kids and sick relatives.

For all their talk, I don’t think politicians actually understand this. Nor do journalists. Sadly, most men choose not to understand it. Business leaders choose not to understand it. Nor do Churches, with their inbuilt conservative and masculine biases. Strangely, even stay-at-home Mums don’t understand it, because, like me this year, they just get the job done without reflecting on it.

Broadly, the only two groups who do understand it are the young couples trying hard to juggle career and family, and the class who simply have no choice – low paid couples and single parents. In the former case, we listen but inwardly think they are moaning feminists exaggerating their lot and trying to assuage their guilt. In the latter case, we don’t think at all, and are oblivious to the sheer stressful misery such a life entails, especially for the poor children, who grow up too quickly and can give problems later.

Is it any wonder that Mums choose to de-prioritise career once the kids get to school? Surely it should sometimes be Dads, but in any case it makes a lot of sense. Quite apart from the gift to the kids, the gift to each other is significant. Who wants all that stress? We say we now offer dual careers, but the reality is that we do little to make it work.

As with many issues, recognizing it and owning it are the main part of the solution. Next time I hear a politician’s platitude or hear of business friendly policies or observe the desperate face of a single mum, I will bring a new, less complacent perspective. If we all did the same, society could go forward.

What practical steps would make a big difference? Based on my experience in the last year I can identify a few. Effective, affordable, pre-school for all kids. School days that coincide with working days (even the first day of school). Even more online provision of public services. Safer streets for kids, with cycle lanes, lighting, pensioners paid to look after kids. Caring recognized as a profession. Shorter and flexible working days, with full acceptance of early finishes for family reasons. Only Scandinavia is anywhere near some of these ideals, and much of the Western world lags shamefully behind, and seems to be moving backwards.

But, most of all, more of us must accept the issue and create authentic desire to solve it. Including men.