In late 2019, I was “this close” to booking a long-distance train trip. Either from Adelaide to Darwin, or across the Nullabor. It would’ve been a solo trip, specifically for the amazing expanse of time and brain space. Then, 2020, and so of course it hasn’t been done (yet).

Trains are a good place for thinking. Moving scenery, the gentle rock and hum, no decisions to be made about the route.

Today I rode the suburban trains for awhile around midday, for the unencumbered thinking time. I’m in such a better place when I make time for deep thinking time.

A good engineer, with ethics and professionalism dialled in, will have a good mix of hubris and humility.

Hubris is having the confidence to have a viewpoint, decision or judgement, to the point of taking a stand even when it might cause trouble. Hubris is standing firm, particularly when it is right to stand firm.

But in the face of that hubris, is the need to show humility as well. An engineer who stands firm even when the information has changed isn’t showing humility, that’s just being stubborn. Humility allows you to confidently say, “let me think about this again”.

Forgetting is a skill, as much as remembering is. If we never forgot anything, our brains would become overloaded. This applies to mere mortals of average memory skills. Remembering the combination to our high school locker isn’t much use now.

The brain is a fascinating thing. What we pay attention to, we tend to remember, though we do forget important things.

So the ability to forget the right things is a skill. I marvel at my ability to remember the lyrics to countless 80s pop songs, but had to look up the formula for calculating the volume of a cylinder.

Everything old is new again, right? It’s a new year, sure, but the calendar is just a human construct that helps us communicate. Otherwise, how else would a person know when to celebrate the ‘new’? Happy new year!

I’m back for another year of 100 words a day. This is year five of 100WAD, though obviously I’m not posting “every” day. Never Saturdays, sometimes inconsistent. But it’s become a habit that I can’t quite quit.

One hundred words, exactly, most days, about something I’ve thought of on that day. Go ahead and count em, if you are pedantic like that.

The word hiatus is apt: I’ve been on one from my 100-words-a-day.

And the hiatus will continue, for another week or so. The word hiatus means “a pause or break in continuity in a sequence or activity”, and that fits.

I found an article titled “why a hiatus is good for you”. It extols the benefits of taking a break, and having different priorities. I can see that: shake it up a little by stopping a habit for a while.

Anyway, I know when the 100 words are 100 too many.

Like every other break I’ve taken, I’ll be back.

This one is from my friend and colleague, Ted Metcalfe (who is not on LinkedIn). Ted has a significant influence on my thinking around engineering, judgement, ethics, and how we learn from (infrastructure/engineering) failure.

He made this astute observation, which needs more exploration, about the role of memory:

“Even after reading many books about how we think and make decisions, I still wonder why people make mistakes, but increasingly it seems that memory plays a big part.

Some people are better than others at choosing, storing, and recalling previous experiences; allowing them to demonstrate better mindfulness and judgement under pressure.”

Being in the middle of the Gen-X cohort (1965-1980), I observe the generational and demographic impact of the Boomers and the Millennials with some interest.

Like it or not, the smaller size of Gen-X means we’ve sailed through our 40s into our 50s without much impact on society.

The front end of the millennials cohort (1981-1995) are now in their 40s, probably with children and a mortgage. This inevitably has an impact on values, views, and priorities. And they are moving into management and directorships, with all the associated responsibility (and ageing) attributes. Millennials are not the ‘young ones’ anymore.

It makes sense when you think about it: ceiling height influences our thinking.

It’s a proven response: low ceilings invoke detailed, problem-solving item specific thinking. High ceilings have a ‘cathedral’ effect and cause us to think bigger and more creatively.

Certainly, ceilings have gotten higher over the last 40 years. I remember the old-style airports, which were almost like a concrete bunker in some cases. Modern airports make you think to the sky.

Neither is wrong, they just have their place to consider for your work/life. High ceilings promote wide-ranging creative thoughts, and low ceilings aid with focus and details.

I’m not much into woo-woo stuff (don’t ask me about chakras. I did read a little, listened a little, and then moved on. Interesting, but…woo-woo).

Differentiating between ego and soul isn’t woo-woo, though some might see it that way.

Our egos are well understood: they swell with success, and pout when distressed.

But consider the soul, too. Our soul is not impressed by success, but rather feeds on joy, and comfort. Egos wants reward over and over, nothing less. The soul thrives on wonder.

It’s Elizabeth Gilbert’s writing that got me seeing the difference. Ok, maybe a little woo-woo, sometimes.

Those of us in the engineering field often face the question ‘what does an engineer do exactly’? The answer is “it depends”. And anyway, engineering is undergoing a great morphing right now; the traditional disciplines like civil and mechanical are ever-blurring.

An interesting truth is that the general public rarely ‘hires an engineer’. In comparison, the general public hires accountants, lawyers, dentists, surgeons. So, we kind of know what those professions do, because we deal with them in our own lives. Not so much with engineers, individuals don’t hire engineers. And yet, what engineers do affects everything in our lives.

The energy transition is now, I think, simply too big to fail. I also think there are more local and impactful changes that should be highlighted in the short term.

Announcements about massive projects make me uncomfortable due to the enormity of the required new stuff for the transition. I’d rather we spend effort and money on improving what we already have.

I recently heard the statement ‘waste is a design fault’, and I like that. Rather than building a whole new energy system (with its incumbent waste), just quietly, I’d rather we make the one we have more circular.

For most of my working career, when a meeting was over, it was over, and only in the memory remained.

In the meeting, you talked and participated, sometimes you said things that were brilliant and insightful, sometimes you said something embarrassing or wrong. Sometimes you’d have a heated argument. And when the meeting was over, you moved onto the next activity.

Now, meetings are often recorded. Now, something you said is re-watchable. Now, it’s possible for someone who was not in the meeting to watch it later.

Recorded meetings: now that’s a lot of (boring) data being stored for later.

I’m a bit of a stickler around spelling, and yes, I’m one who notices others’ spelling errors.

Sorry, not sorry.

But I keep it to myself, when it doesn’t matter. I know not everyone is as fussed about correct spelling as I am.

Meanwhile, my ego thanks you for not calling me out on a recent 100words where I incorrectly spelled ‘curiousity’. It’s one of those words I assumed includes the ‘u’, like neighbour and honour (for those of us not in America).

I have left the mistake there for posterity. And proof that even sticklers get it wrong sometimes.

I recently started on a project that is turning out to be more complicated than anticipated.

When I realised that, I went back through my emails and focussed on the people. The people who’d been emailing me. The people I’d been talking to. The people who’d been in the meetings.

I worked out who they are, what concerned them, and, most importantly, how I can help them.

I usually dive into documentation and start reading. This time I dove into the people and started talking.

It’s been a great turnaround on how in control I feel on this project now.

When you’re in the state of not quite knowing what exactly lights your fire, it’s difficult to take the oft-given advice of “follow your passion”. And besides, if you know what you’re passionate about, you probably don’t need to be told to follow it.

The other, and better, approach is to go with figuring out what you’re curious about. There are many things that interest me, and I’m curious about them. Not “passionate” about them (i.e., endurance events, ethics, the energy transition).

When something pops up that makes you curious, dive deeper. Pay attention to what you pay attention to.

This quote (or philosophy) was aimed at the education system, but I think it applies to career development as well:

“The mind is not a vessel that needs filling, but wood that needs igniting”.

So, when we’re studying something new, or learning a new process, or faced with change, take the approach of ignition instead of filling.

Don’t just fill your mind (or others’ minds) with more information and data and explanations and reasons and words. Rather, look for ways to light the mind like a fire. Inspiration and creativity and insights about new things come from ignition, not overload.

On the “Business of Authority” podcast recently, there was an insightful conversation differentiating between being a “contributor” or a “guru”.

The encouragement was to shift your mindset from “I must be a guru expert” to “I want to contribute to the conversation”.

I think this is a healthy and useful shift in thinking.

It might be a little incongruous perhaps. But approaching knowledge work from a helping viewpoint is very valuable. Showing up as the “I-know-it-all-and-I’m-the-best-just-ask-me” expert can be off-putting. Demonstrate your expertise by doing good work, not just talking about it. This is especially true in a collaborative environment.

I’ve learned a new word and concept just recently: we are all part of the ‘polis’.

It literally means “city” in Greek, but the context is more interesting than that.

It’s an ancient word that invokes a togetherness. And it is (or might be) the foundation for words like politics, police, policy and polite. These are important concepts and ‘ways-of-society’ that, when working well, make for a great society.

The polis is a little wonky right now, I must say. What we can all work on is the concept of being polite; it’s one thing we have some control over.

During the summer months in Brisbane, I put my mental clock ahead an hour, matching the southern states that go on daylight savings.

So my 5am alarm in Brisbane is equated with “but it’s already 6am in Sydney”. And 6am doesn’t seem as ‘early’ as 5am.

The sun is in the same spot in the sky, whether my clock says 5am or 6am. It doesn’t care.

Though it’s awkward at the other end of the day. Dinner at 6pm isn’t very social, even though in my mind it’s 7pm which is quite reasonable.

Like I said, it’s all an illusion.

Today marks 100 years since the inception of Standards Australia.

“Standards”, not just published ones, are an integrated, inseparable part of my life, from contextual and behavioural, to conceptually around their purpose, and down into the weeds of getting the actual standards wording right.

Contextually, standards are a measure, norm, or model for comparative evaluation. Conceptually, standards are an agreed way of doing something, applying to behaviours, technical requirements, administrative processes, or professional or ethical standards. In the weeds with the words is the challenging best bit.

Congratulations and thanks Standards Australia, for being a home for this standards enthusiast.