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Um, yeah, if your metric for success is "I've read more articles than the other guy" or "I've published more papers than the other guy", obviously you'll benefi
by mechanical_fish 19y ago
Um, yeah, if your metric for success is "I've read more articles than the other guy" or "I've published more papers than the other guy", obviously you'll benefit from... reading more articles and publishing more papers.
Personally I don't give a crap that I am 10% as "productive" as John Tukey. I suspect that his productivity made him happy, but that it bought him no more happiness than my own, somewhat lesser productivity buys me. I'm pretty damn sure that all his work didn't bring him much extra money or buy him one extra year of life. I suspect that my friends and relations would rather have 10% more of my time than watch me publish 10% more papers. And I'm with DHH: If I worked with guys like Tukey I would quit rather than be constantly told that I'm some kind of slacker because -- unlike Tukey -- I have more than one interest in life. I know this is true, because I did work in academia with guys like Tukey, and I did quit.
[NOTE: I actually know nothing about the life of the real John Tukey. I'm using the poor guy, as Hamming did, as a notional example of the workaholic. For all I know, Hamming and his boss were wrong, and the actual Tukey had lots of fun hobbies, spent most of his life having fun, and was famous as a genius because he was, in fact, a genius who could do more in three days on the job than most could do in a year. I mean, that plan worked for Feynman.]
- mwerty 19y agoI don't think you'd need that metric to make Hamming's point. I can't speak for your personal sources of happiness but what if your metric is 'When I'm old, can I look back and feel content?'? The difference between what is and what could have been could cause regret in either direction (productivity vs 'fun').
- mechanical_fish 19y agoWell, I haven't exactly read the Stumbling on Happiness book -- and that really is something that I regret -- but one of the points that the author made in his TED talk is that the ability to "look back and feel content" depends very, very much on your personality and very, very little on your biography. I can't quite manage to look back on middle school with happiness, because I consciously remember that it was a profoundly unhappy time in my life. But I can remember the happy bits (many of which centered on the blessed Commodore PET and Apple IIe) much better than the sad bits. My time at ArsDigita was absolutely the most stressful time of my entire life -- it was completely confusing, I worked 80 hours a week, I didn't really know who my manager was, the VCs smiled a lot but seemed to be speaking an alien language, my project was a weapon which various turf warriors would occasionally use to bash other turf warriors over the head -- but I now look back on it with... happiness! It was trial by fire! I learned a lot of valuable stuff about dysfunctional companies! I met lots of smart but overworked hackers who used Lisp and emacs and Kinesis keyboards, and remembered them as models to emulate! I learned that Boston was a great place to live! (How, I'm not sure. I certainly didn't feel that way when I left town the first time... I needed to decompress from that experience for several years before my sanity returned.) From this we can conclude that I am basically an optimist. My late grandmother was not. She had Alzheimer's, and as she lost her memories she became a gloomy, paranoid person who was constantly unhappy. I am hopeful that I will take after my late grandfather, who also had Alzheimer's, and who was a cheerful and sunny person right up to the last hour of his life. Anyway, let's climb out of this rathole and ask: What's my point? Tukey was happy doing work in the moment. I seriously doubt that Tukey gave a damn about whether or not he would "look back and feel content" in his old age. He worked like a dog because he loved reading and writing statistics papers. And, hey, god bless him. We're all grateful that he got so much joy out of something that is do darned useful for the rest of us. But expecting yourself to be addicted to that kind of work -- let alone expecting your coworkers to be addicted to work -- is a recipe for unhappiness and disaster.