> But not all businesses are making those investments. Only 36% of executives said they have the necessary learning infrastructure to upskill their employees, according to the report. Less than half (48%) said they are investing in building soft skills, such as adaptability and collaboration. 

On the other hand, since 2018, surveyed people think they have the needed leadership in place much more than back then.

🔗 [Then and now: Digital transformation in the pandemic landscape](https://www.ciodive.com/news/capgemini-digital-transformation-pandemic/594396/)

Estimating the death of the IBM System i market

> At an even amount of 9 percent of the current base per year or 10,8000 customers, it would only take 11 years to vaporize the IBM i base. If it is 9 percent of the base incremented down per year as it declines, it will take 40 years to reduce it from 120,000 to 3,000 customers. Neither of these scenarios seems likely given the current commitments that Big Blue is making in the Power server line and the IBM i platform. We think that without too much investment, IBM could keep the IBM i platform going at least to 2035. (That is just using Power11 chips.) We think the actual attrition rate is probably closer to 1,000 customers a year against maybe 300 new customers, but that is just a guess.

So, like, effectively: never.

🔗 [Talk Is Cheap, Action Is Costly](https://www.itjungle.com/2021/02/01/talk-is-cheap-action-is-costly/)

Don’t make your corporate memo/deck perfect

> If everyone on a team (including the leaders) accepts that all first drafts are bad, that automatically gives everyone permission to write a bad first draft, about anything, at any time…. The bad draft is a place to experiment with thoughts.

A bad draft – an imperfect thing – drives collaboration, exploration, more rigorous analysis, and, even co-ownership.

🔗 [All first drafts are bad drafts (and that’s what makes them good)](https://gilest.org/2021/bad-first-drafts/)

Mindfulness from blood-sport

Americans haven’t found a constructive was to discuss inequality and power distribution. We like quick, violent arguments and fights that focus on zero-sum outcomes: one group wins, another losses.

Things like GameStop throw all that inequality and weirdness on the table and so we have a chance to discuss it and act aghast.

In this instance, the aghastness is:

  1. Why can’t I have some of that money?
  2. Is this illogical system worth all the sacrifice and worship we give Finance?
  3. Is this the best thing to spend our time on?

Also, it’s a good story – entertainment with clear villains, but also ambiguous heros.

There’s little, if anything, about race and gender in the discussion, morals even. This is a huge change from years of culture wars. This is just like watching gladiators, context free of any culture wars. It gives you that focus one one thing to exclude all the stuff you’re anxious about. In a gentler system, this would be called “mindfulness”: focusing on “the now” to stop the voices in your head.

For the most part, gladiators were slaves (I think). In the case of GameStop, both sides volunteered.

What I’m saying here is that you can’t have sympathy for either side if you base sympathy giving on: they had no choice or were somehow tricked into the negative situation.

I don’t think that means much, but it does highlight another American oddity: we don’t really think about downside as a real thing. We are raised to value the underdog, and much of our folklore is about the underdog winning. However, that doesn’t happen much. We can’t deal with the concept that people just lose, that you get defeated, that there’s no way to win. We get upset when that happens to us as individuals: it’s not fair!

I don’t know other cultures much, but my sense that this idea that you deserve success is part of American-think.

This idea that you would be resigned to your fate is incredibly un-American. In fact, it’s perhaps the worst sin you can commit: idle hands and all that. When people are poor and underprivileged (until very recently) American culture assumed it was just because they didn’t try hard enough and have given up. Boot-straps and all that.

We can’t conceptualize that most people don’t win most of the time. There must be cultures that are more aligned to this style of thinking.

That’s part of what makes mindfulness and “living in the now” so hard for me to…believe? If I’m not always struggling, planning, worried…bad things will happen. If I give up and accept things as they are, then things will go bad, I’ll lose all my money, security, etc., happiness.

This, of course, isn’t the point of mindfulness. It’s not giving up and letting yourself float around in a sea of shit. But, it’s hard to even think otherwise with this American notion that the only way to be happy is to fight, to work for it and suffer along the way.

modernize large app portfolios by starting very small

> “Oftentimes, we get clients who will say, ‘We need to assess those 10,000 applications that we know have to go to the cloud before we do anything on them.’ And we try to change that around and ask why: ‘Why do you have to look at all of them?’
> “ . . . I haven’t found a customer that doesn’t know some of those critical applications that are very painful, that go down all the time or whatever the criteria is. They all have something that keeps them up at night, that they get the calls [about] at 3 a.m. They know they’ve got to think about those first.

🔗 [Refactor or lift-and-shift: How to prioritize modernization efforts](https://tanzu.vmware.com/content/blog/refactor-or-lift-and-shift-how-to-prioritize-modernization-efforts)

Joan Didion interview, 1978 – _Paris Review_ – The Art of Fiction No. 71

> I didn’t realize until after I’d written it that it was essentially the same ending as Run River. The women let the men commit suicide.


> INTERVIEWER: So the process of writing the novel is for you the process of discovering the precise novel that you want to write.
> DIDION: Exactly. At the beginning I don’t have anything at all, don’t have any people, any weather, any story. All I have is a technical sense of what I want to do. For example, I want sometime to write a very long novel, eight hundred pages. I want to write an eight-hundred-page novel precisely because I think a novel should be read at one sitting. If you read a novel over a period of days or weeks the threads get lost, the suspension breaks. So the problem is to write an eight-hundred-page novel in which all the filaments are so strong that nothing breaks or gets forgotten ever. I wonder if García Márquez didn’t do that in The Autumn of the Patriarch. I don’t want to read it because I’m afraid he might have done it, but I did look at it, and it seems to be written in a single paragraph. One paragraph. The whole novel. I love that idea.


> INTERVIEWER: You say you treasure privacy, that “being left alone and leaving others alone is regarded by members of my family as the highest form of human endeavor.” How does this mesh with writing personal essays, particularly the first column you did for Life where you felt it imperative to inform the reader that you were at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in lieu of getting a divorce?
> DIDION: I don’t know. I could say that I was writing to myself, and of course I was, but it’s a little more complicated than that. I mean the fact that eleven million people were going to see that page didn’t exactly escape my attention. There’s a lot of mystery to me about writing and performing and showing off in general. I know a singer who throws up every time she has to go onstage. But she still goes on.


Jack Kerouac interview, 1968

> Yes, we’ve all been influenced by movies. Malcolm Cowley incidentally mentioned this many times. He’s very perceptive sometimes: he mentioned that Doctor Sax continually mentions urine, and quite naturally it does because I had no other place to write it but on a closed toilet seat in a little tile toilet in Mexico City so as to get away from the guests inside the apartment. There, incidentally, is a style truly hallucinated, as I wrote it all on pot. No pun intended. Ho ho.


> The part of Zen that’s influenced my writing is the Zen contained in the haiku, like I said, the three-line, seventeen-syllable poems written hundreds of years ago by guys like Bashō, Issa, Shiki, and there’ve been recent masters. A sentence that’s short and sweet with a sudden jump of thought in it is a kind of haiku, and there’s a lot of freedom and fun in surprising yourself with that, let the mind willy-nilly jump from the branch to the bird.


> I know a lot of stories about Buddha, but I don’t know exactly what he said every time. But I know what he said about the guy who spit at him. He said, “Since I can’t use your abuse you may have it back.” He was great. [Kerouac plays piano. Drinks are served.]


> Oh the Beat generation was just a phrase I used in the 1951 written manuscript of On the Road to describe guys like Moriarty who run around the country in cars looking for odd jobs, girlfriends, kicks. It was thereafter picked up by West Coast Leftist groups and turned into a meaning like “Beat mutiny” and “Beat insurrection” and all that nonsense; they just wanted some youth movement to grab on to for their own political and social purposes. I had nothing to do with any of that. I was a football player, a scholarship college student, a merchant seaman, a railroad brakeman on road freights, a script synopsizer, a secretary … And Moriarty-Cassady was an actual cowboy on Dave Uhl’s ranch in New Raymer, Colorado … What kind of beatnik is that?

🔗 [Jack Kerouac, Paris Review – The Art of Fiction No. 41](https://theparisreview.org/interviews/4260/the-art-of-fiction-no-41-jack-kerouac)


Relearning the value of complaining

In my real life, I don’t complain. Even when I get cut.

But complaining is bi-directionally valuable

What I get wrong is that people complaining want immediate action, a fix. This makes complaint stressful, both for me to do and hear. I don’t want people doing things for me, to carry that debt on my books. And when someone complains at me, I get stressed out that I know have to work, and do the right thing. Either way, complaining just opens up another opportunity for struggle and failure.

Instead, complaining is mostly a form of blowing off steam, and even friendship.

I’ve read that angry and defeated apes will hit lower status apes to blow off steam.

In some way, complaining is that, without the hitting. You feel better, and people can also bond with you.

And with me, when I don’t complain, it metaphorically builds up until I get anger and, worse, resentful.

I don’t understand the mechanisms of it at all, and therefore find it hard to do and benefit from, but: sharing your bad feelings and experiences with someone – complaining -, being “heard” is critical for mental well-being.

Digital privacy is more about hiding secrets from your neighbors than from big corporations selling you soap.