Today on my way to Philadelphia the SEPTA regional train was full of American citizens on their way to do citizenship work. Citizens looked cheerful. Citizens were looking at each other’s eyes. Citizens were reading each other’s creative signs. It was a rare but refreshing sense of trust in the air. These weak but emerging networks of trust (horizontal by nature), if nourished, can make authoritarianism impossible. It is as if American citizens have for once taken notes from the Ukrainians, who are ready to rescind their atomizing and isolating egos in favor of networks of citizenship.

The key to finding value (friends, relationships, projects) is to offer value. We live in a culture of consuming, of expecting, of receiving. Before consume, produce. Before expecting, deliver. Before receiving, give. Before asking for value, offer some value.

Penn professor Angela Duckworth recently delivered a commencement speech at Bates College. Her advice to graduates? Be judicious on where you leave your smartphone. Trivial at first, but surprisingly insightful on closer look. After all, it has been found that the mere presence of a phone within reach significantly diminishes your brainpower. Americans are now expected to spend about 17 years of their adult life looking in front of a screen. What are the implications for our politics?

Smartphones, and addictive algorithms in particular, are fragmenting everyone’s attention. Everyone is getting dumber, and because everyone is getting dumber, nobody is noticing it. I feel bad for Gen Z, the generation that we treated as guinea-pigs. I feel bad for myself, as I struggle to not check Instagram for a new dopamine hit. Knowing how these things work does not shield yourself from addiction.

If the most consequential decision you can take is where you place your phone, I suspect the second most consequential one is if and how to train your attention.

More coming.

I’ve been thinking about lines recently. The one thing to learn from Europe in the 1930s is that people made excuses not to leave. They rationalized their decision to stay. “My real estate agent is busy and I can’t sell my house.” “I will leave when my kids finish school.” “I have parents to look after.” And so on. They did not draw a line, and if they did, once it was crossed, they did not listen to it.

The one advantage we have from Europeans in the 1930s, if there is one, is that we can learn from them. That is about it.

Where do you draw the line? And more importantly, will you listen to it?

Today I spent the afternoon inventorying books, journals, and catalogs in a new work environment. It was a productive and focused afternoon. It is surprising how the room you choose to do work influences the character of your experience. To be stuck in the same cubicle every weekday flattens the work life and ultimately dulls the spirit.

It is a privilege to be able to work remotely. It means one can choose their environment and be in control of their work ryhtms. Perhaps I should dedicate a day of the week to work from a cafe, a new cafe every week. Then you get more motivated and discover new spots in the city.

Things are bad. And they are getting worse by the hour. The most powerful person in the world and the intelligent people behind him are brewing a new Reichstag Fire. Institutions that were supposed to keep people safe are now creating unsafe and violent conditions. Agencies meant to ensure the rule of law and due process will now have break both national and international law to meet the boss’ daily quotas. Loyalty to the Constitution has been replaced by loyalty to the Leader. Everything is escalating. The temperature is rising. The steam fog is forming.

And in that fog, we will get confused with our own little moral compasses we each carry.

But those little moral compasses have been a bit off for a while now. By gradual exposure, the needle has been subject to new magnetic forces. The compass normalized every new pull. It started to point to a new north. And with a new direction, we carried on with our lives. We looked away. We thought it would never happen to us.

Navigating life with broken compasses, we behaved very much like the frog being slowly boiled alive, never noticing that the circumstances were changing, and by adapting, we also changed.

There is a problem with the frog analogy, though. In defense of frogs, they do actually jump.

Today I spent the day inventorying books, magazines, and other materials. It was hard to begin, but once I got the groove of things, it became evident to continue. I had planned splitting the day with other projects, but it became evident to ride the wave of flow. It is very difficult to land in that precious state of focus, especially when your attention is hijacked by other pressing projects, people, or events. It is a luxury to be in a state where time passes without you noticing.

I now wonder if there is a way to get more days with prolonged states of flow.

Last Wednesday, on my way to a conference in Minneapolis, I stumbled upon at the airport a neat series of books on emotional intelligence published by Harvard Business Review. These pocket books cover many topics: influence and persuasion, difficult conversations, confidence, focus, authentic leadership, and my favorite: dealing with difficult people. I have a strong impulse to get their Ultimate Set Box of 14 books.

Learning these so called “soft skills” is crucial. Any form of career success requires working with other people effectively. I think business schools need to integrate more courses on emotional intelligence — an important skill to any aspiring captain of industry. I am suspicious though on the promise that one can increase their EQ by reading books. The truth is, these skills are the work of a lifetime of introspection and reflection. It is hard work. Nevertheless, learning a bit that sticks is still better than nothing.

HBR, please take my money.

Consistency is the mother of “easier said than done”. It is the ultimate test of commitment: of being serious about your calling. The days where it is hardest to show up are the most important.
This past week I hardly wrote my daily entry. Instead of whipping myself on the back, I chose to forgive myself and move on. There will be days where a single sentence is all I will be write. And that is enough. The difference between one and two is double, but the difference between zero and one is infinite.

This long weekend has convinced me that the 4-day workweek with 10-hour shifts is a good idea. For many of us, a 2-day weekend is not enough. We need a day for doing nothing; another for socializing and going out; and yet another one for doing groceries, housecleaning, and laundry.

I feel more energized at the end of this Memorial Day weekend. The Sunday blues are gone. I feel well rested and ready to tackle the week ahead.

The possibility of restructuring a typical workweek makes me question the entire 7-day week cycle. Why 7? Why not 8 or 10?