Each step is abstracted into a vision of the whole road. Each step is new, but each step is simply repeating the past.

Young men look at the road in front of them and see one hundred thousand paths and variations.

Old men look down the road in front of them and see the same path they’ve traveled all along.

Why do we become so emotionally involved with our tools? How can we feel betrayed by a golf club, mocked by a pull-start lawn mower, or sabotaged by backup software? How can a pair of shoes or a guitar bring about feelings of guilt? How can an emotionally inert, inanimate object affect our emotions so suddenly and powerfully?

When we understand that the value of a tool is directly related to the potential that tool represents, then it becomes clear why we’re so emotionally involved with our tools.

Focusing on the Potential

I bought a guitar a decade and a half ago. It cost $300. I still have it. I’ve played it 20 times. Maybe. And when I look at it I’m filled with mixed emotions  of regret, guilt, inadequacy, and shame. Not because I owe the guitar anything, or even because I promised anyone that I’d use the darn thing. It’s because I love music and dream of someday being able to create music on my own, and when I see the guitar it reminds me that I am not accomplishing my goal or fulfilling my dream.

It’s not an overwhelming feeling, and it passes in an instant. I don’t think I’m alone in this, or even in the minority. Most of us have a possession or activity (or person) that consistently evokes in us a feeling of guilt. And the reason for this has nothing to do with the object, but has everything to do with the potential of the object—the task that we imagined we’d accomplish with it, or the person the tool would enable us to become. This is both natural and understandable.

Potential vs. Theoretical

I’ve frequently heard people express a certain feeling of guilt when they think about their neglected blog or twitter account. Some people feel a sense of obligation to technology that can’t necessarily be blamed on social pressure or financial investment. I think it’s because people inherently recognize the immensely powerful potential of technological tools, particularly ones that enable instant global communication. But without a specific goal or end result in mind, a tool’s value becomes more theoretical than potential. So, if you have nothing to say, why do you need a microphone? If you have no goal to accomplish and no vision to pursue why are you emotionally investing in a particular tool?

Don’t be passionate about swinging a hammer, be passionate about building wonderful furniture. Don’t be passionate about social networks, be passionate about connecting people or sharing meaningful ideas. Don’t be passionate about technology, be passionate about humans.

I’ve built a small script that automates the creation of multiple time-lapses from webcam snapshots. It works well and I don’t have any plans on fundamentally changing the code. At one point in time, I considered turning the script into a web service that would allow an unlimited number of people to have time-lapses generated from their own webcams. While thinking through what it would take to accomplish this I realized that my script (and the server it was running on) simply could not create more than a few dozen time-lapses an hour without failing. Image storage, timing, processing power, multiple instances, and bandwidth were just a few of the issues that arose when I looked at my problem on a larger scale. The solution that I identified was unfortunately out of my area of expertise, and while still captivated by the idea of a web service to create time-lapses for every cubical-sitting, cat-loving webcam owner, I’ve embraced the fact that even though I’ve solved the problem on a small scale, I can’t (within reason) solve the problem on a large scale.

The scale of the solution presents a problem of it’s own.

Take the problem of cookies. Say your going to start a business baking cookies. The task of supplying your local coffee shop with fresh-baked cookies is infinitely simpler than the task of supplying a nation-wide grocery chain with fresh-baked cookies. While the process may still be the same—identify a recipe, procure ingredients, mix, bake, deliver, and collect—the solution will be directly shaped by the scale of the problem. Are there 100 grocery stores in the chain or 10,000? Are those stores distributed across six states or 48? These questions must be answered before the question of flavor or quality can even be considered. Simply put, the problem of baking four dozen cookies is an entirely different problem than baking four thousand dozen cookies, and the person who can identify and solve problems of scalability has a much more valuable skill set than the most talented baker of cookies.

Scale is different than scalability.

During the early 2000′s, I spent several years working with a small advertising agency that frequently fluctuated in size between 40 and 50 employees. The reason for this fluctuation was that Bill, the creative director and part owner, had identified his optimum scale of operation. He knew that once the organization grew beyond about 45 employees he would have to drastically change the way he led, managed, and operated his organization. So instead of focusing on scalability, he focused on maintaining a specific scale that allowed him to be very effective.

Identify a scale or a series of scales

Most organizations don’t have a hard cap on the number of employees they hire, instead they keep their labor costs at a certain percentage of their revenue. This practice is great if you don’t plan on growing. If you do plan on growing, at what point does your scale require a fundamentally different solution to your basic business problem? At what point will your cookie business require an IT specialist, ad buyer or distribution manager? In many cases, as an organization scales there are clear phases, caps or boundaries that, once crossed, require that you reassess your business strategy because, in all reality, you’re no longer in the same business. So why not think through the next 3-5 phases ahead of time and include those in your business plan? Or at least be like Bill and put a hard cap on growth so that you can instead focus on effectiveness and optimization.

The solution you’ve found to your problem is specific to the scale of the problem. How will your solution perform when your problem changes? Will you simply try harder? Will you simply double your resources? Or will you acknowledge that you’re dealing with a fundamentally different problem and create a fundamentally different solution.