Archive for October, 2010
Academics Behaving Badly
Posted by John in innovation on 6 October 2010
I had an interesting experience the other week as an editor of an innovation journal. The specifics of the story are a tale of academic corruption but in the broader sense it highlights issues about how academics should communicate their work. Tim is probably freaking out as he reads the blog title but I promised him I wouldn’t name anyone in case we get sued.
I am an associate editor of a journal called Prometheus: Critical Issues in Innovation. The journal has been around for a few decades as a technology and science policy journal with some innovation management content. Over time, interest in the public policy angle has waned and I joined the editorial board this year as part of an effort to refocus the journal on innovation management.
About two months ago I recieved an email from the managing editor, Stuart Macdonald (Sheffield University) to review a paper that had been submitted to the journal. I’m not very familiar with research that has been done on emotional intelligence and innovation so somewhat unusually, I did a topic search on Google Scholar to see what had been done lately. What I found was a journal article that had been published in March this year that seemed quite relevent to the topic but after reading the published article I realized that it was almost indetical to the one that I had been given to review. This is in complete breach of the agreement that authors sign up to when submitting their research to a journal.
Feeling pretty outraged, I told Stuart what I had found and then let him loose on his investigations. This is easy for Stuart since the author is working at a ‘significant’ UK university. It turned out after talking to the other journal that the author had submitted his paper to Prometheus while doing final revisions to his other article. In other words, the misconduct was completely deliberate. In some parts of the world such as Australia and the UK, research performance has become a numbers game with some journals being rated higher than others (regardless of the value of the particular article) and the more publications the better. Under these conditions, people work out how to play the game very quickly and I think that the temptation to act in a way that damages the academic community has become too great for some.

That story isn’t terribly interesting to non-academics but the conversations that followed got me thinking about how universties should share their research. Publishing in journals is an incredibly slow process. Minimally, it can take about 6 months (rare) but typically to go through the revisions to meet the satisfaction of the reviewers it can take years. The reason why we keep going through this process is that we believe in the integrity of the journal review system. In this regard, the responses from the publishers of Prometheus and the other journal are worth thinking about. The Prometheus publishers (Routledge) deal with at least one of these cases every day. More concering, the editor of the other journal couldn’t see a problem with what had happened, but fortunately the publisher of that journal was considering legal action.
With all the pressure to publish and gaming that goes along with it, the inefficiency and waste starts to look more untennable. Don’t take this as a rant by someone who can’t get published. We both get our research published (and sometimes we ‘score hits’ in the top journals). Tim and I get some good feedback on our research through these journals but I’ve got to say that a lot of our current work comes from ideas that we share on this blog and the responses and comments from you, the reader. Keep the comments and ideas coming. They help keep me sane as I try to get my work published. Perhaps just getting ideas out there for comment is better than a pseudo rigourous review process.
Execution is Everything
Posted by Tim in book riffs, innovation on 5 October 2010
Several reviews of The Social Network hit on an critical innovation point – that the value in a great idea is not in having it, but rather in executing it. The topic comes up because apparently the movie deals a fair bit with the lawsuits brought against Mark Zuckerberg once Facebook became successful. Here is how Jeff Jarvis refers to the lawsuit brought by the Winklevoss twins, which alleged that Zuckerberg stole the idea for Facebook from them:
It’s just business. And as for the Winklevii, they didn’t invent crap. Ideas, especially obvious ones, are worthless; every entrepreneur and geek knows that execution is everything. Zuckerberg’s fellow Harvard drop-out Bill Gates didn’t invent crap, either, but he did execute. That’s business.
In his discussion of the movie, Lawrence Lessig makes the same point more strongly (both posts are worth reading in full too, as they discuss important issues raised by the film):
The total and absolute absurdity of the world where the engines of a federal lawsuit get cranked up to adjudicate the hurt feelings (because “our idea was stolen!”) of entitled Harvard undergraduates is completely missed by Sorkin. We can’t know enough from the film to know whether there was actually any substantial legal claim here. Sorkin has been upfront about the fact that there are fabrications aplenty lacing the story. But from the story as told, we certainly know enough to know that any legal system that would allow these kids to extort $65 million from the most successful business this century should be ashamed of itself. Did Zuckerberg breach his contract? Maybe, for which the damages are more like $650, not $65 million. Did he steal a trade secret? Absolutely not. Did he steal any other “property”? Absolutely not—the code for Facebook was his, and the “idea” of a social network is not a patent. It wasn’t justice that gave the twins $65 million; it was the fear of a random and inefficient system of law. That system is a tax on innovation and creativity. That tax is the real villain here, not the innovator it burdened.
Why does Lessig think this is absurd? Because, like Jarvis, he believes that innovation is all about idea execution, not idea generation. Here is how he describes it:
In 2004, a Harvard undergraduate got an idea (yes, that is ambiguous) for a new kind of social network. Here’s the important point: He built it. He had a bunch of extremely clever clues for opening up a social space that every kid (anyone younger than I am) would love. He architected that social space around the social life of the kids he knew. And he worked ferociously hard to make sure the system was stable and functioning at all times. The undergraduate then spread it to other schools, then other communities, and now to anyone.
There’s not really much to add (especially since we’ve dealt with this topic a number of times already!). In innovation, execution really is everything.
For some ideas on how to act on this idea, The Other Side of Innovation: Solving the Execution Challenge by Vijay Govindarajan and Chris Trimble is a good place to start. I’ll talk more about this book soon, but for now, here is Govindarajan making the same point as Jarvis and Lessig – execution is everything!
Answer One Question to be a Better Manager
Posted by Tim in book riffs, innovation on 4 October 2010
I learned a lot in my first job as a manager. In part because it wasn’t a traditional business, nor a normal management position. My first real job as a manager was being Station Manager at my college radio station. It was an interesting situation. We had about 120 people that worked at the station. We were a commercial station (one of the few commercial college stations around), so we had advertising.
The people that sold ads got some commissions, but every other person working there was a volunteer. Not only were they volunteers, but since they were all students at the time, they were volunteers that probably had more important things to be doing than working at the radio station – like studying.
And yet, the station had to stay on the air. We needed DJs to play records, people to filter through all the music sent to us, people to put together newscasts and then deliver, people to do play-by-play for our university’s sports broadcasts, engineers to keep the transmitter working, producers to make ads, and promotions people to try to encourage listeners to give us some of their time.
That’s a lot of jobs – especially for a pack of volunteers that all have other things on which they’re supposed to be spending their time.

And there were crises. The day I was named Station Manager two of the most experienced people at the station wanted to quit because they weren’t happy with how the job allocations for the coming year had been handled. So I had to figure out how to keep them happy, without being able to force them to do anything, and without much in the way of compensation to offer them (other than appreciation).
In the course of dealing with those problems, and with the other issues that got in the way of keeping the station on the air, I learned a lot about what motivates people, and what rewards them. Some of the things I learned are:
- Passion trumps everything: passion is what kept the station running. It’s why I got involved with it in the first place. All of us were passionate about finding music and sharing it with people (or sharing the news, or sports). How can you keep a group of 120 volunteers going? Purpose.
- You can’t use power: when everyone is a volunteer (with more important things that the should probably be doing!), you can’t force them to do anything. If they don’t like the situation, they’ll quit.
- The number one job of managers is to remove obstacles: when you have neither carrots nor sticks to fall back on for motivation, you develop a different set of management skills. Finding the things that motivate people is one of them. The big one though is figuring out how to clear out the obstacles that prevent people from getting things done. A good manager is not a director, but rather a supporter.
Most of you aren’t managing all-volunteer organisations, so you may ask: so what? Here’s the thing that I realised though – the more I managed in “real” businesses, the more I realised that all of the lessons I learned at the radio station still held true. Carrots and sticks don’t work very well anymore (see the talk by Dan Pink). Here’s how Douglas Rushkoff puts it in Get Back in the Box:
These top-down, regimented forms of group cohesion could not cope with the complexity of real human beings interacting with one another. Our newfound ability to embrace more complex dynamics changes all this. Instead of trying to get everyon to conform to a simple set of commands, a great manager, organizer, or leader strives to create an environment or provide the tools through which people naturally cooperate.
So answer this question then act on it and you’ll be a better manager:
What would I do differently if everyone reporting to me was a volunteer?
The Value of Clarity
Posted by Tim in complex systems on 3 October 2010
One part of the language that always gets a bit of a bum rap is jargon. Everyone hates jargon. It’s easy to say we should just rid of it completely. The problem is that jargon actually serves a purpose. When a group of people share an interest in a topic, they develop a vocabulary to describe it. In doing so, they develop precise meanings for words and phrases which enables them to communicate ideas more effectively. These words and phrases are jargon. But within the community, they are just the way that people communicate.
The problems with jargon start when someone within the group has to talk about the topic with people outside of the group. It’s easy to forget that the meanings of the words and phrases used within the group aren’t clear to everyone. Furthermore, it’s easy to make the mistake of using jargon to show that you have some expertise, and that you know something.
The problem for innovators is that we have to get our ideas to spread. That means that we have to explain them in ways that everyone can understand. There is a great example of this in Danny Hillis’ article describing the work that Richard Feynman did in Thinking Machines, the company that Hillis put together to make parallel processing computers:
In the meantime, we were having a lot of trouble explaining to people what we were doing with cellular automata. Eyes tended to glaze over when we started talking about state transition diagrams and finite state machines. Finally Feynman told us to explain it like this,
“We have noticed in nature that the behavior of a fluid depends very little on the nature of the individual particles in that fluid. For example, the flow of sand is very similar to the flow of water or the flow of a pile of ball bearings. We have therefore taken advantage of this fact to invent a type of imaginary particle that is especially simple for us to simulate. This particle is a perfect ball bearing that can move at a single speed in one of six directions. The flow of these particles on a large enough scale is very similar to the flow of natural fluids.”
This was a typical Richard Feynman explanation. On the one hand, it infuriated the experts who had worked on the problem because it neglected to even mention all of the clever problems that they had solved. On the other hand, it delighted the listeners since they could walk away from it with a real understanding of the phenomenon and how it was connected to physical reality.
We tried to take advantage of Richard’s talent for clarity by getting him to critique the technical presentations that we made in our product introductions. Before the commercial announcement of the Connection Machine CM-1 and all of our future products, Richard would give a sentence-by-sentence critique of the planned presentation. “Don’t say `reflected acoustic wave.’ Say [echo].” Or, “Forget all that `local minima’ stuff. Just say there’s a bubble caught in the crystal and you have to shake it out.” Nothing made him angrier than making something simple sound complicated.
…
Actually, I doubt that it was “progress” that most interested Richard. He was always searching for patterns, for connections, for a new way of looking at something, but I suspect his motivation was not so much to understand the world as it was to find new ideas to explain. The act of discovery was not complete for him until he had taught it to someone else.
It’s a wonderful article, and you should read all of it. But these quotes are great at showing what you have to do once you have a great idea – it’s not enough just to have it, you also have to get it spread. To do that, you need to be as clear as possible when you explain it to people.
Jargon has its place, and it can be useful when you trying to spread the idea among experts. But when you are talking about your ideas with everyone else, you have to translate the jargon. If you can’t do that, you might not understand the idea as well as you think you do.



