"I realized this morning that your event content is the only event-related 'stuff' I still read. I think that's because it's not about events, but about the coming together of people to exchange ideas and learn from one another and that's valuable information for anyone." — Traci Browne
Traditional meeting evaluations are unreliable. We obtain them within a few days of the session experience. All such short-term evaluations of a meeting or conference session possess a fatal flaw. They tell you nothing about the long-term effects of the session.
What is the purpose of a meeting? Excluding special events, which are about transitory celebrations and entertainment (nothing wrong with these, but not what I’m focusing on here), isn’t the core purpose of a meeting to create useful long-term change? Learning to apply productively in the future? Connections that last and reward? Communities that grow and develop new activities and purpose? These are the key valuable outcomes that meetings and conferences can and should produce.
Unfortunately, humans are poor objective evaluators of the enduring benefits of a session they have just experienced.
Why are we poor evaluators in the short term?
Probably the most significant reason for being poor evaluators in the short term is that we are far more likely to be influenced by our immediate emotional experience during a session than by the successful delivery of what eventually turn out to be long-term benefits. We like to think of ourselves as driven by rationality. But as Daniel Kahneman eloquently explains in Thinking, Fast and Slow we largely discount the effects that our emotions have on our beliefs. Information provided by lectures and speeches is mostly forgotten within a week. But the short-term emotional glow fanned by a skillful motivational speaker can last long enough for great marks on smile sheets. Paradoxically, the long-term learning that can result from well-designed experiential meeting sessions may not be consciously recognized for some time.
Other reasons why evaluations of conference sessions can be unreliable include quantifiable reason bias (the distortions that occur when attendees are asked to justify their evaluations) and evaluation environment bias (evaluations are influenced by the circumstances in which they’re made). These biases are minimal if we receive evaluations from the environment in which participants can implement hoped-for learning: i.e. back in the world of work. But instead—worried that no one will provide feedback if we wait too long—we supply evaluation sheets to fill out at the session or push evaluation reminders right away via a conference app.
How can we improve meeting evaluations?
Want meeting evaluations to reflect real-world long-term change? Then we need to use evaluation methods that allow participants to report on their meeting experiences’ long-term effects.
This is hard—much harder than asking for immediate impressions. Once away from the event, memories fade. Our professional lives center around our day-to-day work, and we are less open to refocusing on the past.
While I haven’t formulated a comprehensive approach to evaluating long-term change related to meetings, I think an effective long-term meeting evaluation should include the following activities:
Individual participants document perceived learning and change resolutions before the meeting ends.
Follow-up with participants after an appropriate time to determine whether their chosen changes have occurred.
In my next post, I’ll share a concrete example of one way to implement a long-term evaluation that incorporates these components.
If you are a “professional”, doing measurable work can be harmful to your future.
For over a hundred years, management has been obsessed with measuring what workers do. The rationale was to improve efficiency and cut out the dead wood. Until quite recently, this affected mainly factory workers. White-collar workers were relatively safe.
Not anymore.
Computers can apply scientific management principles to an ever-increasing number of professions. The result?
“What’s the close rate, the change in user satisfaction, the clickthroughs, the likes?
You can see where this is heading, and it’s heading there fast:
You will either be seen as a cog, or as a linchpin. You will either be measured in a relentless race to the bottom of the cost barrel, or encouraged in a supportive race to doing work that matters, that only you can do in your unique way.
It’s not easy to be the person who does unmeasurable work, but is there any doubt that it’s worth it?” —Seth Godin, Scientific Management 2.0
Though adopting explicit ground rules can improve conferences, I’ve never been thrilled with the term ground rules. Language is important, and Rules are typically imposed by bosses, governments, and dictators.
So the other day, during a workshop run by Patrick Short and Alan Montague, I was happy to discover a word I like better.
Covenant: “an agreement, usually formal, between two or more persons to do or not do something specified.” —dictionary.com
Unlike rules handed down from on high, covenants are agreements, in this case between a facilitator and participants.
Covenants, not ground rules
This may seem a little disingenuous because I believe it’s still a facilitator’s responsibility to suggest or elicit covenants that shape group behavior. Given that facilitators typically possess more influence and authority over group process than anyone else present, they will likely shape the covenants the group adopts, to some extent.
Nevertheless, the term “covenants” describes a group’s agreements about how its members will work together. This shifts the focus from imposed rules to group agreements. If contentious aspects of these agreements surface, they are the group’s agreements rather than the facilitator’s ground rules. The group can discuss them, modify them, or even set them aside.
So for me, covenants are in, and ground rules are out. It’s a small change, but I think it’s one worth making.
What do you think? How do you introduce group agreements when you’re facilitating? Comments, as always, are welcome.
I was about to discover the depth of Paul’s craftiness.
After filling my plate with Quebecois goodies, I climbed the stairs to find Diego Ibáñez, Gina Trimarco Cligrow, Patrick Short, and Betse Green lunching together. I told them that Paul had invited me to join the “conversation”, whereupon Patrick explained that the group was planning the hour-long conference closing ceremony, which began at 2 p.m., Paul joined us and, looking at me, said that the closing ceremony typically included some kind of public evaluation of the conference. I looked at my watch and gulped. We had 40 minutes!
Typically, when designing process for a session with 200 participants, I like to have some time—perhaps a day or two—to think about the best ways to achieve the desired outcomes with the available resources.
This occasion was not typical.
I was not feeling the nervous excitement I usually experience in situations like this.
I was feeling fear.
But…I was with a group of great improvisers
People who had spent decades practicing and living improv. Perhaps we could work together and create something good enough, perhaps even great, in 40 minutes?
I have a simple tool for public evaluations, plus/delta, that I’ve used many times. But how could we optimize it for 200 improvisers?
My memory of the rest of the lunch is hazy. (I was definitely outside my comfort zone.) I think that Patrick made the great suggestion that the evaluations be presented as short improvs. Others chimed in. Together, we fine-tuned the process.
Rushing to the barn where the session would be held, we discovered that the local conference organizers were also working on their plan for the closing ceremony. They had already decided to hold it outdoors—it was a beautiful day—and had lit a bonfire. A few-minute conversation determined that we would hold our evaluation in a circle around the fire, and then they would close the conference in their own way.
We started bringing out chairs from the barn. I found three scribes to capture in writing the conference insights that were about to be shared. We arranged enough chairs and set up an electronic organ for Patrick to accompany the improvs, and it was time to start.
There was no more time to plan. Diego and Gina introduced themselves and me, and I was on.
The conference evaluation
Positive experiences
Talking as loudly as I could (there was no sound equipment and I don’t have a strong voice), I explained that we were going to do a rapid public evaluation of the entire conference and gave them an overview of the process. Then I asked everyone to form small groups of 5 or 6 people and gave them seven minutes to:
Share their positive experiences of the conference in their group; and then
Create a short improv piece about the changes they would like to see in the conference to make it better.
There had been some logistical challenges during the conference—e.g., no coffee was available at breakfast on the first day…oops!—and I knew from past experience that participants tend to concentrate on such issues during the change portion of the evaluation. So I made a point to direct the groups to focus on non-logistical/obvious conference improvements while they were working on their short improvs.
Once the group work was done, everyone returned to the circle and individuals began sharing their positive experiences of the conference. I had never done this kind of sharing in a circle before, so I improvised the idea of walking slowly around the circle with my arm pointing to each person in turn. As my attention swept around the circle, people put their hands up if they wanted to say something, and I stopped for them to share. After I had gone around the circle once, I announced I would make two more circuits for sharing positive experiences. This worked well—different people spoke during each rotation and everyone had three opportunities to share or pass.
What would you change?
Next, we switched to the change portion of the evaluation. One group volunteered to start, and we began to experience a wide variety of creative group improvs that conveyed the changes the members suggested. (Coffee delivery improvements were still amusingly incorporated.)
Normally, I am very aware of time issues when facilitating events. The closing session had to end on time, as one bus was leaving immediately to allow some attendees to catch flights back in Montreal. On this occasion, concentrating on the improvised flow, I was doing a poor job of managing the remaining time. Thankfully Gina noticed this, stepped up, and ingeniously coaxed the remaining groups to spend less time on their improvs. I doubt that anyone even noticed she had taken over on the fly. She supported me and made me look good—thank you, Gina!
After the improvs had all been presented and enjoyed, the local hosts took over and ran a brief and moving closing, tying together the Nature theme of the conference with our experiences over the previous three days. The contributions of many people were thanked and recognized in humorous, yet heart-felt fashion.
As the session ended, one last facilitation task remained for me. I found the three scribes and took safe possession of their valuable notes. Later, back at my Vermont home, I photographed the notes and emailed them to Paul so he would have a permanent record available to use for improving future AIN World conferences.
What did I/can we learn from this experience?
We are all improvisers. Every time you have a conversation with someone, for example, you invariably do not know what they are about to say, and you improvise your response. Competent facilitators, leading group conversation and/or process, are improvisers. Despite having a plan for achieving desired group outcomes, they adapt what they do in response to the group experience.
Fifteen years ago, I would have quickly turned down the opportunity Paul offered. I saw myself as a process designer and planner, and my fear of “failing” to be highly competent when asked to improvise large group process overrode any perceived benefits. Today, I am more comfortable taking the risk of being less than perfect, of being average, as improvisers like to say. So one thing I learned on that sunny afternoon was that I am willing to step more out of my comfort zone and into the place where magic happens when responding in the moment.
I also learned about the value of trusting support. I would have turned down Paul’s offer if I had had to create the session by myself. Being surrounded by folks trained in improvisation is probably the best support structure you can have! We are all working to make each other look good, because we know that the best things happen when we work supporting each other.
Does improv trump planning?
Does this whole experience mean that improv trumps planning when creating and facilitating group process?
No! My experience with plus/delta as an evaluation technique was gained from ten years of experience involving plenty of planned experiments. This experience made it easy to integrate the core plus/delta process into the unique circumstances of the AIN 2015 conference closing session. As far as I know, no one else present had the expertise to create this form of evaluation. My years of planning plus/delta allowed the group to benefit from an effective process tool.
In addition, my very last act for the session—collecting the scribes’ notes in the hurly-burly of mass crowd goodbyes and making sure the AIN organizers received them—was reflex planning. Improvisors, improvising in the moment, might overlook this move. (We saw it happen; remember the absent coffee?) As meeting professionals know, a planning mindset is essential to reap the full benefits of the creative process at events.
The tension between improv and planning at events
Why did I write this behind-the-scenes look at 100 minutes of terror and wonder at the close of AIN 2015? Because I think it illustrates that there is a natural tension between improv and planning at events. The tension appears because, at first sight, they are mutually exclusive ways of thinking about what “should” happen when people meet to learn and connect. The mythical planner’s goal is to make sure that everything goes according to plan. The mythical improvisor’s goal (well, one of them) is a reality where nothing goes according to plan.
You can’t get much more tension than the difference between nothing and everything.
Yet this very tension provides the energy that we feel at the best events and experiences of our lives. From moment to moment, there is a play between improv and planning. It is the Taoist experience, the energy that arises from the tension of opposites.
And it is a tension to embrace, not fear. That is our challenge.
At the workshop, the talented Patrick Short and Alan Montague reintroduced me to an improv game called Color/Advance. It’s a simple game for two players, a storyteller and a listener.
At any time while the storyteller tells a story, the listener can give either of two commands: “Color” or “Advance”. Color instructs the storyteller to describe whatever she is talking about in more detail. Advance tells her to continue with the story. Improvisors typically use the game to improve storytelling skills. They use the listener’s requests as feedback to determine when:
More detail will spice up the story; and
It’s time to continue with the plot.
It struck me that one could use Color/Advance in a different way, as a group process tool in a conference session or workshop. Often, when I lead a meeting, I have limited information on what the participants want to get out of it. With up to about fifty participants I normally use the Post It! technique to uncover the wants and needs of the group. Then I tailor the session to fit as well as possible, covering a judiciously selected set of the topics mentioned.
This approach works very well. However there’s no standard way for attendees to indicate during the session that they would like more or less information to be shared on the current topic. It’s not unusual for people to occasionally ask for more detail. But few will spontaneously volunteer that they’ve heard quite enough about a topic and they’d like to move on to the next one.
So why not use Color/Advance as a tool for session participants to give them control over what they want to cover during a session?
Here’s what I suggest
How to use Color/Advance
After you’ve used Post It! to create an impromptu outline of the topics to include, explain that at any point anyone can say “Color!” meaning that they want more detail of what was said. Or, they can say “Advance!” which means “I’ve heard enough about this, please move on to the next topic.” Also explain that people can respectfully (and succinctly) disagree, so that the wishes of one person are not imposed on the entire group.
I love discovering how to harness human process in new ways. Body voting makes preferences and opinions public. A fishbowl allows a group to have a useful discussion. And, thanks to my experience at the AIN 2015 World Conference, we have a new tool Color/Advance for conference session or workshop participants to fine-tune the information shared to match their wants and needs.
If you have thoughts about or used this technique, please let us know in the comments!
At the wonderous Applied Improvisational Network 2015 World Conference (more posts coming soon!) I bumped into Doug Shaw, Professor of Mathematics at the University of Northern Iowa [not shown above; he is far better-looking] and he told me of an unpublished article he’d written on how to make conferences middle-aged friendly for people like him and me. Doug sent me a copy, I liked it, and he has given me permission to guest post it here…
Hello, my name is Doug. I went to my first conference in 1989. I was young then, and I believed in accessibility — everyone should be able to benefit from a conference. Never did I think that one day I would be the one who was having problems benefiting. But yes, I became middle-aged, and, well, I’m writing this article…
1) Memory
a. If there is a smallish group, quickly go around and say names. I’ve forgotten yours and I’m embarrassed.
b. Name tags are a boon. Actually, I’ve forgotten lots of names.
2) Vision
a. Think about your font size on handouts. Less than 12 pt is cruel. 16 point? You are a mensch. My eyes are in constant flux — I’m not used to wearing reading glasses, sometimes I don’t have them, and sometimes the prescription is out of date.
b. Dark text, light background. Blue on blue means you are a rotten human being.
c. I see better if there is strong light.
3) Hearing
a. If you aren’t able to speak so I can hear you, get a microphone. I hear better if there is no background noise, it is hard if there is. Hearing aids help if I can’t hear — but the problem is as you get old you still can hear, but you can’t filter out background noise as well.
4) Physicality
a. If part of your group participation involves standing up and sitting down… I can do that, but it hurts a bit. If you make me do it multiple times, I’m no longer going to be focusing on your points, I’m going to be anticipating/dreading having to stand up again.
b. I am fighting to change my diet, having lived 40 years eating badly. Go ahead and put out the cookies, but give me something else I can shove in my mouth, too.
5) Content
a. I’m not asking you to change a word of what you were going to say — but you should know that I’ve been to hundreds of these things, and I am a lot more cynical than I used to be. Clichés make me turn off to you. I know that people’s number one fear is not death, but public speaking. I know that the “jobs of tomorrow” are going to be different than the jobs of today. And I know we need to go beyond our comfort zones, think out of the box, adapt to an increasingly global society, etc. Did you know that the phrase “comfort zone” is lazy and comfortable, the phrase “think out of the box” is totally in the box, and that the 21st century is 1/7 over?
b. Motivational speeches don’t motivate me. Not because I’m a curmudgeon, but because I’m already motivated. I come to these things because I want to, not because I feel I have to. It takes more effort now — it means leaving people behind. So I’m motivated. If you spend a half hour with speakers trying to motivate me, that’s a half hour I’m getting impatient waiting for what I actually came for to start. Oh — and I’ve probably seen better motivational speakers than you are supplying. My favorite motivation is, “Hi. Welcome. Now here is the content you came to receive.”
6) Memory
a. If there is a smallish group, quickly go around and say names. I’ve forgotten yours and I’m embarrassed.
b. Name tags are a boon. Wait…did I cover this point already? Let me look at what I’ve written so far…where the hell did I put my glasses?
Do you have other ideas about how to make your events middle-aged friendly? Share them in the comments below!
The Thirty-Minute Rule: Another issue of an occasional series—Dear Adrian—in which I answer questions about event design, elementary particle physics, solar hot water systems, and anything else I might conceivably know something about. If you have a question you’d like me to answer, please write to me (don’t worry, I won’t publish anything without your permission).
How much “free” consulting should a consultant offer during initial discussions with a client before requesting pay for services?
What happens during an initial consultant/client meeting?
When consultant and client meet for the first time there’s naturally a certain amount of sizing-up going on.
A potential client is looking for a solution to a problem. He wonders if the consultant can help him, whether he can trust what she says, how much she costs, and when she will be available. All these considerations and more determine whether to engage her services.
A client is hoping to find the help they need as quickly as possible but wants to feel confident that the chosen consultant can help effectively for an acceptable price. They may believe that their problem can be fixed easily by someone with the right expertise, and be hoping (or expecting) to get their problem solved quickly, perhaps at no charge.
A consultant is wondering:
what she needs to learn about the client;
whether she’s capable of helping the client;
what the client thinks the problem is;
what the problem might actually be;
whether she can get paid;
what she’d like to get paid;
whether she’s going to have the time, resources, and inclination to work with the client in a timely fashion;
and so on.
From a consultant’s point of view, time spent working to get an initial sense of a client’s needs, determine that he is a fit for her expertise and abilities, and convey enough of her capabilities to reassure the client that she is the right person for the work is non-billable. Too much non-billable time and a consultant starts to have problems paying her own bills.
Naturally, these client and consultant concerns take time to resolve, leading to the above-mentioned Dilemma.
What to do?
I have been consulting for over thirty years and have participated in hundreds of initial client-consultant dances. I like to think of them as dances: mysterious, exciting, full of the possibility of creating something great together, and sometimes disappointing. In my experience, a contracting minuet can take as little as ten minutes or…well, let’s just say far too long. The client or consultant can trip over any of the obstacles I’ve already listed and decide to walk away.
So, what’s a consultant to do?
David Allen, of Getting Things Done fame, coined the Two Minute Rule to determine whether a task that interrupts current activity should be handled on the spot—answer: yes, but only if it can be completed in less than two minutes—or captured to be performed later. I doubt he chose 120 seconds based on some deep scientific analysis, it’s his rule of thumb (which I’ve found to be useful), presumably based on years of experience.
My Thirty-Minute Rule
In a similar vein, I offer my Thirty-Minute Rule for resolving the Consultant’s Dilemma.
I told Tony that I’ll talk to any potential paying client for up to thirty minutes for free. At that point, if the client is still looking for free advice I’ll gently explore options to transition to a paid consultation. Sometimes, of course, it’s clear that we’re not going to move forward. No blame, it just happens. Otherwise, I’ll generally have enough information to propose next steps. Also, if my client doesn’t have sufficient trust in me after thirty minutes? I’ve found it’s unlikely I’m going to change his mind by staying on the call.
The Thirty Minute Rule doesn’t include the time required for creating a contracting agreement or proposal. So if I judge that we have a good chance of creating a win-win consulting arrangement I’ll create a short document and send it to the client for approval. This rarely takes more than an additional thirty minutes. If the document requires significant client-specific research I’ll ask for appropriate compensation to create it.
The Thirty Minute Rule is my reasonable compromise between the competing needs of consultant and client. If you’re a consultant reading this, what do you think? Do you have your own “free consulting time” rule? Feel free to share yours in the comments!
Is your mission impossible? If you know your mission — you do have a mission, right? — then your long-term strategy becomes much clearer. You know where you want to go; now, all that remains is how to get there.
Of course, life is rarely that simple.
There’s always that must-do-now stuff that gets in the way. As Seth Godin puts it:
“This interim strategy, the notion that ideals and principles are for later, but right now, all the focus and resources have to be put into the emergency of getting successful—it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work because it’s always the interim. It never seems like the right time to stop doing what worked and start doing what we said was important.”
—Seth Godin, The interim strategy
How can we stay focused on our mission when there’s always something demanding our attention right now? There are four core steps:
Notice what’s going on. (“A week has gone by, and I’ve spent fifteen minutes, tops, working on my mission.”) Sometimes this is the hardest step. We can’t change when we are unaware or avoid the changes we really need/want to make.
Make a plan. End/delegate/deprioritize the short-term stuff that’s getting in the way. Set goals for your mission-related work.
Carry out your plan. Sometimes this is the hardest step.
Steps 1-3 aren’t a one-time process. Loop ’em. Keep noticing, making new plans, and acting on them. That’s how you’ll grow and, potentially, succeed in your mission.
As Seth concludes his aforementioned post: “The interim is forever, so perhaps it makes sense to make act in the interim as we expect to act in the long haul.”
And remember this.
If you remain continually immersed in interim work, executing your Mission becomes Impossible.
What information is needed for event design? Every week I receive requests for advice on improving existing meetings. (Design consultations on new meetings are less frequent, which is unfortunate since it’s much easier to begin with a good design than successfully redesign meetings that attendees have already experienced.)
All event designs require certain basic information. Typically, clients start with an initial consultation where we explore desires, needs, and circumstances, winkling out the basics in the process.
Quite often, however, I’ll receive emails asking for design advice that omit significant information. Here’s an example I received last week, quoted in full:
Dear Adrian,
I am a researcher working on a side-event to [an upcoming international meeting]. I work for [a European foundation] and am looking for innovative ways to engage an audience of up to 300 people in the subject of [my foundation’s mission].
We want to get away from the lecture-style format but we do not have the ability to split the group up (for translation reasons, amongst other things).
If you could offer any advice or links I would be most grateful.
[“Dominique”]
Meeting designers need answers to eight questions before design can commence. The following list includes some commentary on how Dominique’s request complies.
Who is the meeting owner?
Every meeting has anowner. There is invariably a single person who has ultimate authority over the meeting objectives, budget, format, and content. A common problem for meeting designers is that they are approached for assistance by someone other than the meeting owner (who may not even be aware that a meeting designer exists or is needed.) That’s certainly the case here. When you can’t work directly with the meeting owner, any design work performed will be wasted if the meeting owner is not convinced of its value by the intermediary with whom you’re working.
Who is the meeting designer working for?
The meeting owner? The meeting participants? One or more intermediaries? Some combination?
Who is attending?
What are the profiles of desired/expected attendees? Is the event invitation-only, or is it of interest to specific groups? For Dominique’s event, are the audience members supporters of the foundation’s mission? Skeptics who need to be convinced? What are the translation issues she mentions?
What are the desired objectives/goals/outcomes?
Many clients find it hard to define their goals and outcomes for their events. Dominique wants the audience to be “engaged”. What does this mean? Engaged about what? What is the desired outcome of this engagement?
How many people?
The only meeting designs that scale are those that omit inter-attendee interaction; i.e. broadcast-style events. If you want or need interactive or participative events, the number of attendees is essential information for creating an effective design. (2/8/15/25/60/100/200/450/1000 people? Each level will generally require a somewhat different approach.) Dominique’s “up to 300 people” includes the possibility that some other breakout will be taking place that siphons off all but 30 attendees. We need either tighter bounds on this number or several alternative designs that cover a range of attendee counts.
How much time?
Are people together for an hour? A day? Two days? A week? Most of us have an idea of how much content we can be exposed to via lecture in a given amount of time. An understanding of the time needed for people to productively peer learn, make significant connections, and become a member of a valued community is far less common. The amount of time that people are together sets limits on what is possible and informs design decisions on the most appropriate processes to use for the meeting.
What venue?
Venues often constrain what’s possible at an event. Desired objectives like engagement may be difficult or impossible if attendees are stuck in fixed seating in an auditorium. Working in small groups can be thwarted if the venue is noisy, undersized, or adequate breakout space is unavailable.
What resources are available to support work on the event design?
Is the meeting owner willing to work on the event design, or pass full responsibility and authority to a trusted alternative? Can you afford a day of my time to assist with your design? Are you looking for free advice? (Dominique was.)
We need answers to all these questions—and often others—before workable and effective meeting design is even conceivable. (I thought about adding the event budget to the above list, but, though it’s obviously ultimately important, it’s less relevant in my experience than you might think.) I don’t expect clients to spontaneously volunteer all this information before we first talk or meet. But it certainly doesn’t hurt if they do (and I get some reassurance that the client has made an effort to really think through what they want and the steps they might take to get it.)
Eight pieces of information needed for event design
So, I’ve shared eight pieces of information needed for event design before a meeting designer can commence their work. I’ve probably missed some other pieces of information that are important. What would you add to this list?
There are moments when I’m playing with myself. (No, not like that.)
“Yesterday I took the Trailways bus home from New York City. My seat had a small video screen above it. (The screen was blank.) We had a stop at Kingston, and as I stood up, I hit my head on the screen — then laughed at my blunder. My life is a slapstick comedy for an audience of one.”
—Sparrow, The Sun, July 2015
My life is a slapstick comedy for an audience of one.
Traditional meeting evaluations are unreliable. We obtain them within a few days of the session experience. All such short-term evaluations of a meeting or conference session possess a fatal flaw. They tell you nothing about the long-term effects of the session.
If you are a “professional”, doing measurable work can be harmful to your future.
The Thirty-Minute Rule: Another issue of an occasional series—
