#2. Writing up learning, looking for a job
#2. Writing up learning, looking for a job
Also prediction tournaments, Consider Phlebas, The Great, bucatini
Hello again!
Last week’s newsletter was an adventure and I was taken aback by the response. In particular that so many friends (hello friends!) signed up as well as work people. That’s going to keep me descending too far into a pit of jargon.
I appreciate the support. Honestly, I needed some cheering up last week because on top of the usual January blues there was more grim lockdown stuff plus the insurrection. It was good to escape that and think about something else.
Writing up learning
Recently I’ve been helping Claire and others write up “things we’ve learned” for two Lottery reports. Writing this stuff is hard. One reason is that the concept of “learning” looks simple on the surface but underneath lurk three competing framings:
Topic-oriented. You gather everything you’ve learned about a subject and give it a name. Like “Off-the-shelf software” which is a noun heading. We learn in topicsat school so it’s sadly prevalent at work too. But it lumps the interesting and uninteresting together. It makes the reader do the work and hides what matters.
Action-oriented. You talk about what you’ve learned to do. Like “Buy cheap off-the-shelf software” which is a verb heading. Yes, we humans love action so much that we equate learning with telling others what to do! It’s better than listing everything, and it can be helpful, but it hides what you learned behind the actions you decided to take. Unless you’re always right this is of limited value to others.
Meaning-oriented. You declare something specific, interesting, important and unexpected that you’ve learned. Like “Modern off-the-shelf software automates many tasks for less money than a development team” which is a statement heading. Writing like this forces you to be bold. You’re not telling people what to do but giving them information to integrate into their worldview. Inviting people to think for themselves rather than broadcasting dogma. This is the gold standard for me.
I think one big reason people struggle with writing “what we’ve learned” is they mix up these three types of headings in their heads. The writing grinds to a messy halt. If this happens to you - stop, pick one type (noun, verb, statement), and reformat all your headings to match. Symmetry rules. Grammar hacks are real.
Honestly, I think this is the researcher’s superpower - seeing clear differences between what happened (topics), what it means (statements) and what to do (actions).
Looking for a job
I finished at Local Welcome at Christmas so I’ve been looking for a new job. I’ve got work for January and (probably) February so I’m going to tempt fate and reflect a bit.
One unexpected joy has been talking to loads of people that I love and respect. Last year was lonely and catching up made me happy. I’ll take unexpected joy where I can.
I spotted two big themes in these chats. First, lots of places have closed offices for good so hello remote working. Secondly, old organisations have been panic-shifting online so there are lots of ambitious digital strategies out there. Interesting.
I’ve also been thinking about job-as-security-blanket. It’s scary not knowing where my next pay packet will come from. I’ve had terrible anxiety dreams. But it’s freeing too. I haven’t explored so many paths since I got made redundant in 2011 and changed career.
It made me realise that I’ve been so head down that it feels weird to look up. I’m not sure that’s healthy. So I’ve thought harder about what I want. I’ve said yes to every conversation and learned new things along the way. I’ve even interviewed and been rejected twice. These things feel healthier because they’re stretching me.
But my favourite moment was with Eliot. He gave me a shot in the arm and told me to wake up and realise that I was at a stage in my career where I could choose radically different paths. He pushed and maybe I’ll fly. Thank you Eliot.
Prediction tournaments
Years ago I read Philip Tetlock’s Superforecasting. Don’t let the Dominic Cummings hype put you off - it’s a good read about prediction tournaments.
A prediction tournament is where you take a yes/no question - like will we vaccinate 13.9 million people by 15 February - and assign a probability from 0-100 rather than giving a yes/no answer. Do this for 20 or more yes/no questions and later you can compare the accuracy of your predictions with others using a Brier Score (which punishes overconfident errors). Media pundits are famously terrible at prediction tournaments.
Anyway. When the pandemic hit everyone had big opinions about what would happen. My friend Raj created a prediction tournament to hold our WhatsApp group to account for our ten-a-penny political opinions.
I learned loads by taking part.
The main takeaway was how serious my own hindsight bias is. It felt so odd looking back at my predictions when they went wrong. If I hadn’t made them in black and white I wouldn’t have believed that I ever held that opinion. It made me realise just how slippery my memory of previous beliefs is. And how terrifying that is.
It also taught me to distrust my gut feel when questions triggered my political beliefs, to start with Bayesian priors, to plot trend lines on datasets, to back away from overconfidence, and to correct my mistakes over time. Big lessons.
I still don’t buy the idea of superforecasters saving the government because I’m not sure that more accurate data - even about the future - will stop flawed humans making bad decisions. But as a way to think about thinking I loved it.
Reading, watching, cooking
I re-read Consider Phlebas by Iain M Banks with an intention to revisit all the Culture novels that I read in my 20s. I was a bit disappointed because it’s kind of average-thriller material - even if it’s quite a feat that the future he imagined from 1987 doesn’t seem wildly out of date now. I don’t think I’ll be reading them all again.
I’m enjoying The Great on Channel 4. I swear I don’t only watch new-school costume dramas with colour-blind casting but I studied Catherine the Great, the swearing makes me laugh more than it should, I’m fascinated by court behaviours, and I’m a sucker for smart-women/stupid-men scripts so it’s pushing my buttons.
And I cooked bucatini pasta for the first time. It’s spaghetti with holes in it! I made bucatini all’amatriciana with Rachel Roddy’s recipe and it was tasty. It’s just pork, tomatoes, chilli, wine and loads of pecorino blended into the sauce. This sequence of delicious events was all prompted by the Great Bucatini Shortage of 2020…
Difficult second episode done. I might need to cut down to two main things rather than three if I’m going to stay weekly but we’ll see how it goes.
Stay safe.
Will