Badly Designed Systems Are Just That

Learning to Laugh

Life can be a rather humorous existence, or at least, I tend to laugh at myself more than I berate myself. It is a healthy disposition to have. What fools we have been in too many things, though hopefully we have refused to allow those things to define us.

Consider the pressure to deliver a product that was less than ready for primetime, yet pushed towards deployment by the powers that be. This came after misgivings and concerns that eventually became valid and were proved so too.

An AI-generated infographic on the blog content. (Click to enlarge.)

A Premise That Failed

I found myself testing a premise that did not work. Every time I made an adjustment, I did not see the expected result. When I was asked to put it out immediately, I had one inescapable point: what is not working cannot be deployed. I had a slight window of protest, insisting that until it worked on my system, it could go nowhere.

When I eventually got the working parts to work, I realised my error had been using a similarly named old component when the new one was intended. The urge from one end had beclouded my ability to concentrate. Once I discovered what the issue was, I sternly suggested that people should ease off and wait for my update.

Back to the Drawing Board

The next morning, we saw some results, along with the proof of why the other parts would not work. We had the knowledge, but the architects, in their wisdom and hubris, thought they knew better.

Did I not write about this last month, when I set out why technical authority without social consent produces brittle solutions? The whole process returned to the drawing board, yet once again it missed the essential part of engagement that would take a great concept to a successful deployment.

Then came another issue. I had written a letter to express my frustration at being unable to secure a slot for a review. The website presented a user experience you barely wanted to relive once, let alone many times over a couple of weeks.

An Unwinnable Lottery

As I recorded all the issues that fed what had looked like an unwinnable lottery for access, I clicked on another link within the interface, only to find that a slot had already been booked on my behalf, though I could find no record of being informed of that appointment.

I did, however, find one message that allowed the rescheduling of an earlier slot; but I attributed that to another booking I had received a few days before. What was missing from the information exchanges was any indication of what each message particularly pertained to.

When Systems Forget the User

How much better it could have been if they had not assumed they were the only ones communicating with you, and that the possibility of multiple appointments scheduled within a short timeframe might exacerbate the confusion about what was what.

This discovery meant my letter of frustration did not have to be sent. It was also a relief that the said slot had not passed, as the alternative arrangements made would not have been realised for almost three weeks.

The Wry Smile

Essentially, badly designed systems are just that: badly designed, no matter how they seem to work. The end user is simply left with concerns, frustrations and misgivings, entirely out of the frame of what affects them the most, because they are not properly considered as part of why, and for whom, the system was designed.

Then, for each of these episodes, when things are not as bad as they once seemed, there is a wry smile, some mirth and laughter, and even that urge to step out for a walk for having been so worked up earlier.

A Gemini Notebook AI Podcast on this blog

Memento Mori in the Modern Workplace

The Two-Headed Fear

I usually say that I am only scared of a person with two heads, and thankfully, I have never met one. Yet in my working life, I have had many encounters with colleagues, juniors, seniors, and C-suite personnel.

In the main, they have been nice, respectful, considerate, and courteous. It is the workplace that brought us together; our backgrounds can be radically different, just as our outlooks on the world might never be the same. If we are human, humane, and accommodating of each other, it makes for a pleasant working environment.

Frustration Is No Excuse

There have been exceptions, people who think their positions give them room to misbehave and be discourteous. Usually, they get away with it, and the behaviour becomes compounded and accepted by many. Once, I was offering support to a caller at work when he began hurling expletives out of frustration.

We all get frustrated, but frustration is no excuse for abuse. I calmly told him that I did not get paid enough to take abuse at work, and informed him that I was going to put the phone down.

When he was ready to discuss the matter calmly, he could call me again. We ended that conversation, and a few minutes later, he called back, apologised, and I resolved the matter.

The Gracious Senior VP

On another occasion, a deployment for which I had provided statistics showing a high success rate just happened to brick the Senior VP’s device. His secretary was implacable, and other senior staff were running around like headless chickens. I was instructed to call the SVP to explain my actions.

I had never met him before, but he immediately acknowledged me, then said he had seen the statistics and understood that, on occasion, something might fail; it just happened to be his device. He closed with, “Take your time, I appreciate what you do.”

There have probably been other technical personnel elsewhere, in the very same position, marched out of the office simply because the screen on a manager’s computer flickered.

Things can be that brutal. I learnt early in my career that keeping users honestly informed reaped more dividends than leaving them ignorant of what might affect what they do or how they work. To inform is to liberate.

The Master of the Universe

Bring in the esteemed fellow, the one to whom no one says no. He has the ear of the CEO, and anything he says is gospel and unquestioned. To have attained that status is commendable; but unlike the generals of ancient times, who at their victory parades had a man whisper memento mori into the ear of the celebrant, this master of the universe, for all that they have achieved, yet so lacking in character, thinks they own the world and that everyone answers to them.

They seek exemption and exception in the demands they make. Aggression and coarseness are their raison d'être; nothing is ever a request. They hold Aladdin’s lamp, incessantly summoning the genie to grant any wish, and should the wish be denied, truculence becomes them.

Any resistance, even a reasonable challenge to their requirements, is met with forceful tales of woe about how they cannot get anything done because the system, the design, or the personnel are lazy, wasting time, and derelict in their duties.

The thrust of the conversation leans towards disparaging you, your work, your team, and anything else you have done professionally and diligently.

Winning the War for Peace

It is tempting to assume nothing can be done when management indulges its favoured figure. Yet such attitudes can be named and challenged, and I have done so many times, with success. The behaviour is not untouchable; it simply relies on everyone presuming that it is.

Each encounter is weighed on its own merits; sometimes you yield, and sometimes you hold firm. Where there is no point in holding the fort, and they are used to having their way, you make that allowance too, for the peace of mankind.

Yet even in those bruising encounters, you can own facts that clearly prove their position wrong, leaving them with no option but to concede the point, even if they remain unrelenting in pursuit of their self-aggrandising goals.

We do not have to win every battle when the war is for peace, for respect, for dignity, and for the recognition that in every endeavour, no matter the position, the esteem, or the remuneration, no one of us is better than another.

We are equal as human beings, deserving of the same courtesy, respect, and dignity. It is in our efforts together that we all make the organisations we work for successful.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Dreamscape: I said hire me

Untouched by Touch

It was one of those contactless payment nightmares, and it truly was a nightmare. I was with a close family friend, and we had boarded a train within the city to travel from one location to another.

Upon arrival at my destination, my mobile phone simply refused to provide the NFC-related information and contactless payment interaction to let me through the exit barriers.

Despite my efforts, my friend easily exited and waited for me as I began to look like a fare dodger. However, I had indeed touched in where my journey began and was struggling to touch out.

A Free Pass Granted

One of the staff came to help, first directing attention away from us before moving us outside the perimeter of the checking system. Effectively, I was beyond the exit barriers and could go on my way.

However, having touched in, if I did not get a legal touch out, I could potentially be fined almost 10 times the cost of travel. I needed this resolved before I was subject to a cash grab from my account.

Finding a Solution

Upon reviewing transactions on my phone, I found that the entry contactless system had failed to register my touch-in properly, posting an Error 21, indicative of a fault with the system rather than a mistake of my own making.

I approached the staff who called in a technical architect to review the error. While acknowledging the error was not my fault, he opted to do nothing about it as he prepared to take his dogs out for a walk. As far as he was concerned, the cost was too minuscule to warrant concern.

Meanwhile, in my examination of the information related to the error, the company admitted fault and offered compensation for the inconvenience. As the architect was walking away, I inquired about the compensation, and he promptly signed off a few free tickets for daytime and nighttime travel.

Fighting My Corner

It was his attitude that was grating, inconsiderate, and failed to recognize the needs of the customer. To which I vocally stated, for all to hear, “If your company needs a technical architect with an eye for detail and solutions to help the customer, please immediately hire me.”

That was completely out of character for me; I am not typically one to express myself in that manner. However, I felt irked and disrespected; it needed to be said. All that agitation, and it was only a dream.

Clippings of the thought and drippings of the thoughtless

The matchup of views

There are two versions of my blog, one which I wrote expressing some feelings that I would not be able to describe after some attempts at doing so, and then I decided to pass the text through an LLM grammar checker with a preference for English and when unqualified, I mean what we speak in Great Britain as opposed to that spoken across the pond.

The tone I went for was emotional rather than casual, formal, laconic, or something else I cannot remember. At Brian’s inadvertent prompting, I won’t even tell which version was the original and the edited and none of the customary delineation of paragraphs and sections, the title of the blog however is original. We can’t give everything to AI when we can allow some human intervention.

To make it even more atrocious but not as bad I had some machinations that crossed my mind as I typed this, I won’t set out where one begins and the other ends, the evil thought was to intersperse the paragraphs. As Brian is wont to say. “I’m not that bad.” My response? That’s between us.

With many thoughts coursing through my mind, I found myself reflecting on a difficult telephone conversation that had left me feeling unsettled. Though I endeavoured to remain calm as I respectfully explained my perspective on the importance of patient-centred care, I sensed tensions rising.

In my attempt to process the interaction, I began writing but soon realized my thoughts lacked focus. While I had intended to respectfully express concerns around communication and coordination of my treatment, my emotions had made it difficult to do so constructively.

Over subsequent days, further challenges with the navigation of my care only added to my feelings of frustration. Multiple attempts at documenting my experience proved futile as overwhelm took hold.

However, with time and distance, clarity emerged. In reframing my goal as open dialogue rather than accusation, I was able to convey my perspective and needs in a balanced manner. Though the road to resolution remains long, small steps toward understanding are progress indeed.

With many thoughts coursing through my mind, I had begun to type away, the discombobulated scratches of the upset that resulted from a telephone conversation that soon lost cordiality for tempers rising.

Surprisingly, I held it together as I lectured my interlocutor on the primacy of the patient in the decision tree of treatment options. I was pulling no punches because taken together, one had become a bystander where full disclosure and engagement should have been the rule.

Six good paragraphs in, I was exhausted, that I put it away thinking I might find the wherewithal to complete it, but it was flailing without direction, and I doubted my ability to rescue it.

Half a day later, another phone call was ping-pong between oncology and urology, with little consideration given to the fact that regardless of department responsibility, I was at the receiving end of their inability to coordinate and the poor management of my case.

I started another write-up and before I could complete the first sentence, I had lost interest and inspiration, it was compounded exasperation seeking the travails of frustration that I have tried hard to avoid with sanguinity.

A day, another, and another before I settled at the keyboard for a third attempt taking a totally different slant from the first two attempts.

It turned out a lot better and much shorter than I expected. I guess some events can snatch away the will to see some things to the desired conclusion.

Attention Extermination

One can easily be driven to distraction,
Maybe caught in exasperation,
When the vagaries of communication,
Have no context of precision,
You strain for some clarification,
Something with the slightest indication,
From the jumble of crude expression,
Making sense or comprehension,
Whilst I strain with consternation,
Avoiding such deserved condescension,
I seek and yearn for explanation,
Though won’t expect elucidation,
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition,
Of every past and recurring conversation,
Each exchange exudes more frustration,
Please, catch me away from this condition,
Ere a match sets off a conflagration,
Dare one wish a spontaneous combustion,
Get a mob for a defenestration,
An arrow strikes to gruesome exsanguination,
As they make the wildest assumption,
That you’re gifted with prognostication,
In their bizarre imagination,
They pine for your appreciation,
But for my grooming and compunction,
I will let go with utter vituperation
In truth, there is no solution,
To everything representing confusion,
For which on simple reflection,
Has capacity for a better exposition,
Being a man of toleration,
With the quest for peace and determination,
It’s a cross, a test, a life’s audition.

[]

Boy weakness when man strength is required

What am I to do?

It is probably one of those feelings of helpless abandon when one is overcome with some incapacity or infirmity, the inability to complete a task.

Earlier this evening I thought of putting together another concoction with my NutriBullet blender, I almost foresaw the end of my impending pleasure as I screwed on the blade assembly to the beaker, that last twist did it.

I had meticulously taken off the hard brown skin of the coconut pieces just to use the white solid of the coconut, poured in milk, then vanilla yoghurt, some garlic flakes, almond flakes and hulled sesame seeds.

I thought of adding some organic honey but forgot and screwed the assembly shut and set it on the NutriBullet blender for a few minutes. In the last week, I have had a few portions of this delicious food-drink for dinner and liked it.

For now, I can’t do it

However, my frustration is compounded by the fact that for the past 90 minutes I have been unable to unscrew the assembly and have my drink. I even tried putting the assembly in hot water without must success, it is all plastic.

Progressively, I have realised that my grip and twisting strength has been failing to be efficacious at the first few tries, but this has been the worst experience of realising I cannot do a simple domestic activity and yet it is no one to call in the emergency services.

I probably will get to open it eventually, though I have one had a lady in the house do what essentially we would expect a man to do without a fuss. I have my weaknesses and really, I am not afraid to ask for help, it gets difficult things done.

Postscript:

I thought of this over an hour ago, I finally donned my Roeckl leather gloves which are stowed away for the winter, this gave me the grip I needed for the twisting action I required. I will have the pleasure of the food-drink and have this in mind for the next time.

Thought Picnic: Frustrate your frustrations and live well

Don’t let it

Over time you learn that the last thing you to be hampered by is frustration.

Yet, there are many things to frustrate you daily in all endeavours that you need to put things in perspective.

Perspective comes from knowledge of what you can control, what is out of your control, what is open to negotiation and what is not.

Do let it

Each situation is a test of your resolve and outlook, if you are able to keep your calm or find an outlet for the pent-up emotions, you are probably on to a winner already.

How you choose to express yourself to others in speech or writing can reveal a lot about you and your mind-set.

Taking a break from that environment for a walk and some thinking time might well have you back, the better and confident that you can handle frustration and whatever else might accompany it.

In form for more forms

Back to form of forms

Gathered strangers of situation and circumstances from all walks of life seeking new relevance in the world of work.

Under the tutelage of some who for reason and opportunity find a calling in what they do as opposed to what they could do if they cared little.

Yet, they are all caught in the maelstrom and spectrum of ability that ranges from the talentless in other departments to the talented in company, the impartations sometimes useful or sometimes useless.

Tumbled by slumber

Forms ruled the day as time fillers and occupational activity, but one whose slumber interrupted his ability to keep pace was sent to his bed with much agitation, his bad luck, a result of his not being able to keep his eyes open.

Maybe he should have declared Human African trypanosomiasis as a condition, but he did not look African, probably he was a somnambulist and the course leader might have been a bit lenient, but the class being held back meant progress was too slow to retain any patience.

There is no shame is saying you have sleeping disorder, there are therapies and help available to those who recognise their frailties, but that is by the by.

Interesting insights

The discussions, lively, funny and humorous, the time passed with periods of boredom helped along with engagement and banter, sometimes skirting the risqué but never offensive – friendships can grow from this.

Why do you want this job?

What skills do you possess that makes you the right person for this job?

Apparently, those two questions are essentially the same question phrased differently and can be asked at different ends of the interview with the interviewer expecting similar rather than different answers.

In closing

However, one should hope that interviewers are not rigidly schooled in particular expectations without the flexibility to assess the total person beyond the rote of function and conformity.

A few more hand-outs, the polishing up of the marketing literature and the mandated requirement was completed to satisfaction with a certificate to boot.

Here is to better luck, favour and good fortune in the next endeavour.

Sent on a fool's errand to possible frustration

Like a fool’s errand

At a government mandated training course this morning where the disconnect between all related departments became so apparent that it was laughable, the dead hand of government protocols landed with a thud before us.

The question was whether any of the participants knew why they had to attend the course on advice and instruction of their advisors, for literally all the answers given, none was close.

Persuade to dissuade

The referral office was just ticking boxes without knowledge of the reasons to tick boxes, as each answer ranged from helping to write CVs, finding work for long-term unemployed, interviewing technique tips and useful preparations for work.

Surreptitiously, part of the purpose of sending people for this course is to frustrate them off the welfare roll and at least one of the attendees disappeared the moment the group broke up for the first break session.

To the market with the marketable

However, in the midst of the mundane and rudimentary, there are nuggets of wisdom, clues as to how people can alter their outlook and mind-set, leading to gainful employment.

Fundamentally, a CV is marketing literature; it is the means of selling yourself to the market. A market seeking talent and expertise you may possess.

The CV should create enough curiosity to excite interest, but it should never be overloaded such that there are no discussion points to give depth and detail to the ability and personality of the person.

The demeanour to project

We rise to challenges thrown our way in everyday walks of life but that boldness and confidence with which we effortlessly tackle problems seems to be lost at interview.

It is important to act naturally, being oneself rather than trying to impress thereby giving rise to nervousness, one of the factors indicative of poor interview technique.

Blessed at the font of the double page

The advice whilst useful could be quite prescriptive as preferred fonts being Garamond or Verdana, set headings providing uninspiring structure, page setups with set margins or that a CV must never exceed two pages with the employment history restricted to five years except for security or artistic roles.

For information technology roles, the suggestion is to use LinkedIn to document the other roles or have a webpage containing that detail.

Some things

Avoid clichés like ‘hard-working’ or ‘customer service skills’ in the profile because people are expected to be hard-working regardless, and customer service skills are innately functions of a person’s respect for others, acting courteously, politely and with a friendly disposition – you either have it or not.

Besides all this, forms, yes, many forms filled to the point of distraction but with the challenges, opinions, reviews, assessments and the ideas, it really was not a wasted day. Another day of observation and participation is set for the morrow.

The UK: Caressed by the dead hand of government protocols

Fill the will

Forms are what I encountered this afternoon, a meeting with officialdom that started with a convenient, but extraneous data-entry on my laptop just two days before.

Yesterday afternoon I received a text message on my mobile phone scheduling an appointment for today, just a 10-minute walk from where I now live.

On arrival, I was greeted and asked to take a seat and expect Irene attend to me, but instead a gentleman came round to get me a good 40 minutes after the appointed time without apology.

Sign and whine

After introductions and a number of printouts I had to proofread and other questions I had to ask, I scrawled my signature at least 15 times on all sorts of documents to gain access to a support framework.

He said there was a form I had to fill in; the instruction was everyone had to fill the form in especially if you had lived out of the UK for more than 13 weeks in the last two years.

However, logic escaped its function because out of 12 questions, there was none I could answer because I am British citizen and every option it presented pertained to Mainland European citizens and beyond.

Where I was to present an identity document, there was no requirement of a UK passport, yet, I had to bend the logic to complete the first part and the sign it before he registered me for another needless meeting with some other official.

Bureaucracy to make you crazy

It was the dead hand of government; forms aping formula without function, exercises that exercised your patience into frustrated resignation as apparatchik automatons gave the zombie of government exhausted of life, long before we were born purpose for existence.

I will not suffer too much in this, as I am on therapy, and I engage my hospital in my holistic well-being, anything untoward I will offload unto them to resolve. My mental state remains sacrosanct. I will not entertain the attempts of the state to sap every will out of the person in what they term encouragement to purpose by negative inducement.

Yes, bureaucracies are there to make you crazy, not if I can help it.

Gosh! I'm in London again

London incognito

My sojourn to London this time is somewhat impromptu and unannounced; even though one had opportunity to announce long before time, spontaneity depending on scheduling and time allowing might just bring me in contact to the realists of my blog world.

Air travel never ceases to amaze, I have been through a time of flying as a kid, getting irrationally scared of air travel to the extent that I forsook my plane at the air for a 7-hour train journey to a point where I can better manage my anxiety, it does not bother me that much anymore.

I'm like a bird

However, when I think of the daring, genius and tenacity that made men put big metal vehicles in the air, take advantage of the air to traverse places and use the same to stop the aircraft, I am just too impressed for words.

Generally, I belong to the jet engine generation; there is no way you will get me to get in a turbo-prop even if I had to escape the savages of King Solomon's Mines, well, it might get me thinking.

But one thing I have noticed about Amsterdam Schiphol Airport is whilst it can be friendly to the elderly, handicapped or parents with young children, in that they can order a concourse vehicle to cart them around the airport, those with canes find that the elevators do not go to the connecting floors and we are not called forward to board flights first.

John Steed, I'm not.

I once had one long cane with a ivory ball for the handle, then acquired another which is quite versatile because I can take it apart - 4 bits that go into the customs check system - mercifully and thankfully, I do not have to take off my shoes.

It makes the cane easy to pack into my bag. So, when we landed at Heathrow and taxied around the runways till we all thought we were lost for 15 minutes we came to a standstill, when usually the impatient cannot wait for the seat-belt sign to go off before they open overhead bins and spill the contents on the sitting party.

I finally got my bag, took out the 4 pieces of cane and proceeded to put them together when another passenger surmised, good weapon - I had to remonstrate vehemently, it is my cane, nobody carries weapons onto planes and please do not get me into deep serious trouble.

Some people have been watching too much monochrome Avengers, that is not helped that I also wear a hat, this time, not my bowler hat, though.

Sign for me properly

Then, the beauty of reading English properly written - Please have your passports ready for inspection as opposed to the literal translation in Schiphol which reads Please keep your passport ready - it narks me off when these foreigners cannot avail themselves of native speakers such that I do not have to be welcomed in London.

I got to my hotel which is beside the British Library, one should walk in and have a look, and much has been said about the architecture and more.

Stranger in my room

Just as I settled in my room, I had a shower, dried off and wist not that I was unclothed because I was covered with glory when my door opened.

Stranger: Oh!

Moi: What are you doing in my room?

Stranger: Reception, gave me this room.

Moi: Well as you can see, it is not your room, it is mine, this is outrageous.

Stranger tries to divert my vitriol to blame the reception for a sloppy job, I am having none of it.

Moi: Please close the door now; make sure you are not sent back here.

Stranger, scolded and angry walks away closing the door rather than slamming it, well, that would have been the end of him as he would have been defenestrated.

Why did I go for the stranger, well, I wanted to make sure he doubly expressed his displeasure at the reception, such that they do not mess it up again?

20 minutes later, my television goes off and a name; not mine appears on the screen, my second call to reception would not hear of the excuses that the system is down, I am having none of this nonsense in a 4-star hotel, it just does no augur well for my custom and their brand.

When I show my face at reception, well, maybe, it is best to leave out the tip when checking out.

What would we do without computer systems, what makes us thorough and meticulous has been lost that excuses suffice for unforgivable simple mistakes - not good, not good at all.

Is this London?

I’m leaving on the slow train

With the new developments in the mind games that have been the real war on terror, travelling by air to London is completely out of the question. If you have to arrive at the airport a day before you depart and might only be able to have your hair shirt as hand luggage, why bother?

The other alternatives are road, sea and train – I took the latter which involves travel through Brussels and then the Eurostar from Brussels to London, at least you can carry whatever you want before some nut thinks that is another little scare in the making.

All signs lead nowhere

So, I arrived in London this afternoon and missed something I usually see in stations in Berlin and Paris, good signs for locations above ground and local maps on advertisement type billboards. Nothing of the sort, I need to get my A-to-Z out to find my bearings, hopefully, the street names appear where they should.

Before I surfaced, I had to get a London Underground travelcard (it used to be mainly paper-based with a magnetic strip – shows how long I’ve been away from London), it is now known as the Oyster card – a nondescript credit card sized plastic thingy that does not show any obvious sign that it is a 7-day travelcard for all zones.

Then to the hotel where I should had a deal that extended my entire stay, but with two days left, the cost is too outrageous to contemplate – this city is not paved in gold but they pay diamond prices for things that glitter like dark wood.

The spectre of crimes recent

So, I had a rather long walk to one of my old haunts and could not help but notice two crime scene notices seeking information for events that happened in the last few weeks. One victim was shot and another looked like a racial attack by a mob, all within a 5-minute stroll. Makes me weary of what is happening in London.

Then, somehow I ended up at Elephant and Castle; I remember my cousin once saying important landmarks in London are named after places in the biggest city in Nigeria – Ibadan. He gave a few examples like – Ìtá aperin (translates as the Elephant Square or Elephant and castle in this case), then Eléyelé (translates as the pigeon’s keeper or Trafalgar Square, if you like).

The maze of castle with no elephants

Anyway, I had to get a bus to my hotel, the signs indicated I need to look for bus stop C which was on the other end of that area, I got there and found that the maps did not correlate with the realities I could see, having traversed tunnels till my orientation is as bad as compass doing 10 revolutions per second, I threw up my hands in absolute despair and incredulity that anyone could make sense of those location maps.

A lady who seemed to know what my frustration was and the nonsense that masquerades as help for tourists and non-locals alike then gave directions which had me walking off in another direction, then finally I found the stop, only to see the that location map at the stop should have been the same all through.

It is strange because the map of the London Underground is considered a work of art, a masterpiece of engineering drawing and it is the standard by which other city maps are drawn; that these ideas have not converted to locations maps for bus stops is unfortunate.

London after six years of absence – not too sure – I give my views in a week.