Death by Process.

Do you have a process, or a cage?

A process is a massively useful tool.  It’s a powerful way to make sure you don’t miss any steps, and that the finished product reaches the standards for quality you set.

But a process is also inherently limiting.  By establishing steps, procedures and specific measurements of quality across the board, you run the risk of creating a factory that generates one kind of solution, rather than a method of determining the best solution for each unique problem.

And no, brainstorming doesn’t ‘fix’ this situation.  Inserting a creative act into a box that limits its shape and scope does not make a process creative, or original.

That said, you need a process of some kind.  Creativity, when aimless, rarely ships anything of value.

Things that I consider key parts of my process:

• Open ended questions that get me to consider what the actual problem, and actual solution are
• Identifying creative elements that each project requires (from myself, and others)
• Listing un-executable but awesome solutions (then dissecting why they are un-executable)
• Identifying the end behavior desired, then working backwards
• Screwing around: that is, diverting focus to tangentially related content for inspiration and insight (WARNING: not billable)

If every action is identified in advance, the range of potential outcomes is limited.  When playing an instrument, there’s a limited number of notes, and pleasing combinations thereof.  You are already inherently limited by the extent of what your chosen canvas (whether it be artistic, or professional) can incorporate.

Consider this before creating a rigid process that turns your ideas into widgets, all coming off the same assembly line.

Attention older geeks: You are not the world.

Even though I don’t own an iPad, and probably won’t anytime soon, I find the launch exciting.  It seems like a big shift in interfaces, and a great opportunity for some of the talented developers I know.

It is also, apparently, going to kill creativity and social aspects of content, if you ask Cory Doctorow.

This is a difference of opinion, but I have a few key things to point out:

• Closed platforms can be hugely inspirational.  Go read Scott Pilgrim and tell me it would have existed without Super Nintendo and Sega Genesis, two very closed platforms.
• Nothing that offers internet access keeps people from creating.  The internet BEGS for content, and offers thousands of ways to create it.  My work and passions don’t require unfettered access to my device’s inner workings.  They require information and a way to share my ideas and conclusions.  
• Code is not the totality of creativity.  Geeks (and I count myself among them) often forget this.
• No one is going to buy an iPad because ‘it’s easy’.  If you think Apple’s value proposition is ‘easy’, you don’t understand the market.  Simplicity, clarity of use and purpose, and astonishment aren’t ‘easy’.  If they were, maybe people would use linux for something other than servers and proving a point.
• Saying Apple isn’t developer friendly is in no way connected to the reality I observe.  The most engaged, excited and interested developers I know are working on Apple’s mobile devices through the app store.  Would they like a clearer process from Apple?  Of course.  But they also like having a market, which no other mobile platform offers in a meaningful way.

What confuses me most is the suggestion that the iPad, and by extension the iPhone OS, design has “a palpable contempt for the owner”.  It’s not contempt, it’s respect for a more common set of priorities than your own.  Contempt is creating something that you need to conform to, a thousand times a day.  Contempt is expecting someone to become an expert in using your tools, to make a simple task feasible.

If you’ve ever used Open Office, you’ve felt software with contempt for you.

Bending to Reality.

I was never more creative than when I didn’t have a schedule.  I’d have deadlines, sure, and classes which were of varying importance to attend, but I had to constant, overarching reason to bend the time spent on any given task, per day, to anything other than when the work had to be delivered.  And I never missed deadlines, because everything else was flexible.

I miss being able to go on a 12 hour research binge, followed by a 4 hour writing and revision binge, followed by 2 hours of Entourage, 2 hours of sleep, delivering the finished product, and finally another 14 hours of sleep.  I have a vast array of reasons why this is no longer a feasible approach to work (mostly working in teams, on large, intricate processes where many people rely on my being accessible) but I miss it nonetheless.  I miss being able to disappear into the work, rather than have the work disappear into the process.

I also have a feeling that this type of work, the type I cherished so much, is only possible in a situation like academia, where someone is so closely defining the scope and ingredients of your work that you can be left entirely to your own devices.

I don’t have a solution or suggestion this time.  I’m just pointing out one of the inherent sacrifices in working with real world toys, rather than intellectual playgrounds.  You need to bend to reality, from time to time, in the real world.

It’s probably worth it.  This is no way means I’m not constantly looking for a workflow that mimics the best parts of complete independence, while offering the benefit of working in a skilled, motivated, tightly knit team.

Play with the Medium.

I’ve always argued that text is a visual medium, and drawing a line between it and images is a dangerous thing to do. I don’t just mean in terms of fonts or kerning, I believe that certain sentences just look better on the page than others. I think this should be a concern, whenever the interpretation of your sentences is a key issue.

As referenced in the last post I made, playing with formats is a great way to create something notable. Breaking the traditions, especially the ones that are treated as rules but not enforced by anyone, is attention grabbing.

Go cause some trouble.

Advertising as Freedom.

(In reference the the quote posted immediately previous.)

Movies often fail creatively because, at core, they are designed to make money. This means that letting the creative forces have complete control is a massive risk.

Advertising doesn’t need box office impact. But it does need to be discussion-worthy, and it can be artistically valid.

Hire a genius. Let them work without any unnecessary restrictions. Ads can be art, because you care about attention, not box office receipts.